GrG - vol8

1.    Lost in the Fog

The path was dark and twisted.

And it sometimes grew so thin that it almost seemed like they had hit a dead end, so the lantern’s light only showed a foot or so ahead of them.

The feel of the rock walls that he sometimes touched was hard and rough.

So was the sensation of the ground under his feet.

The further along they went, the more the fire of hope seemed to dim, and it felt like even the slightest breath could extinguish it. Even if they moved forward cautiously, step by step, was there even going to be a payoff for it at the end?

Had this been the right choice? Wasn’t it a huge mistake instead?

It had been hot when they’d first wandered in here, but it had been cool for quite a while now. The air was dry, but it still smelled like a bog for some reason.

“Hey, Parupiro...” Ranta began. “What, Rantaronosuke?”

“Listen, pal, don’t you dare add weird nonsense to the end of my great name. I’ll kill you.”

“If you stop messing with my name, I’ll think about it.”

“I’ve got rights, Parupyororin, and you’d better not infringe on them,” Ranta said viciously. “Wait, hold on, is this really okay...?”

“It’s fine,” Haruhiro answered immediately, then bit his lower lip. Could he say that for sure? Was he confident about it?

No.

There was no way he could be.

He didn’t know whether it was fine or not. How could he?

This passageway connected Darunggar to Grimgar. Did he have any evidence of that? Yes. Mr. Unjo’s statement.

Mr. Unjo had wandered into a foggy place on the border between the former kingdoms of Nananka and Ishmal, then reached Darunggar by passing through a cave he’d found there. He was a former volunteer soldier, with far more seniority than Haruhiro and the party. It was hard to imagine someone like that would lie to them. He was trustworthy.

Still, even if he wasn’t lying, he could have misremembered. Even if Mr. Unjo had spoken the truth, what proof did they have that this passageway was the cave in question?

Was this even a passageway at all?

If it wasn’t... No, how would they even decide that it wasn’t?

If the path ahead was blocked, Haruhiro would have to admit this was a mistake.

That’s right, he thought. We have no choice but to go as far as it takes us.

Was that really true?

What if they went as far as they possibly could, and then it was a dead end? Maybe it would be better for them to give up at some point and turn back while they still could? Somewhere? Where exactly? With what timing?

It started to bother him, so Haruhiro looked upwards. He lifted his lantern.

There was no visible roof. It was almost like they were in a deep, dark rift.

It’s different, he thought.

This place wasn’t like the passageway in Grimgar’s Wonder Hole that connected to the Dusk Realm, or the one they had passed through on their way to Darunggar, either.

For a start, there were no gremlins. Lala had talked about them.

Gremlins had the ability to cross from one world to another, or the power to find the places where the worlds were connected and flee through them.

There were no gremlins in this passageway. Didn’t that mean this was the wrong place? It might.

It also might not. He didn’t know.

How long had it been since they’d entered this passageway? His sense of time wasn’t just dulled; it had basically disappeared. The days they had spent in Darunggar were like a distant memory, and when it came to Grimgar, he

had to question whether they had ever been there at all.

Did Grimgar even exist? Wasn’t he just imagining it did? There was no way they could go back to a place he wasn’t even sure existed.

Moving forward, turning back, it was all the same. They would never get out of here. They had no choice but to wander until their last strength gave out.

How was that fine? It wasn’t. Haruhiro had lied. He’d deceived them. His comrades. And himself.

He felt the regret, the self-hatred, the weight of his own responsibility, the sense of powerlessness, and the despair, one after another, all of them weighing down on him at once. They strangled him. Tripped him up. How could he move forward when he was suffering under their weight? Wasn’t he going to stop?

Even though everyone was there, he felt alone. The light illuminated where he was going, yet he saw nothing. He felt like he was in abject darkness, abandoned and left behind.

Isn’t this good enough? he thought in despair. Time to stop. I mean, it’s not fair. Why am I the only one going through this?

Ranta, he can complain whenever he wants, so he’s got it easy. If you don’t like it, do it yourself, man. Take some responsibility. You try carrying this heavy burden. It’s not like I ever wanted to. If I didn’t have to, I wouldn’t. I’m not kidding. I’ve had enough. I don’t care who it is, I just want someone to take over.

“Is that okay with you?” a voice said.

Haruhiro heard the voice, so he turned back. His eyes met Merry’s. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Just now...” he started to ask, but stopped short.

No one had said anything. It was all in his head. He’d heard a voice where there was none. Of course. There was no way he could have heard that voice.

After all... it had been Manato’s voice.

Manato was gone. He wasn’t anywhere now, outside of Haruhiro and the others’ memories.

But what if Manato were to ask him that?

Is that okay with you?

If Manato hit him with that question, how would Haruhiro respond? If Manato could ask, Haruhiro might want to turn to him for help.

Please. I’m begging you, come back.

Manato would probably give him a slightly troubled smile, then say, “Even if I wanted to take over for you, I can’t. You know that, Haruhiro.”

A ghostly voice spoke up again. “I’m not one to talk, but...” That was weird.

Really weird.

He could even hear Moguzo’s voice.

“If you really don’t want to... if it’s hard on you... I think you can quit,” Moguzo said. “If you talk to them, everyone will understand. But...”

“Haruhiro, would that be okay with you?” Manato asked again.

“If you’re tired...” When he heard Shihoru’s voice, Haruhiro thought that maybe he was still sane. His feet were still moving.

“Nah, I’m not tired.” Haruhiro shook his head slightly, but then thought,

What about the others? It looked like he was still thinking straight.

Is that okay with me? he wondered. I dunno? Maybe not? What does everyone else think?

Well, even if I suddenly said, “I’m done being the leader. Someone else do it,” they wouldn’t know what to do. Would it be like, “Come on, just do it?”

Well, I’ll still do it. I know no one else wants to. So, for now, I’ll do it. No matter what happens, don’t come crying to me, though, okay?

If things went really bad, the rest of them would be just as much to blame for making a guy like him be the leader for so long. It wouldn’t just be the leader’s fault. Haruhiro wasn’t alone. Even if Haruhiro screwed up as the leader, it would still be everyone’s fault.

“Is that how you really feel?” Moguzo asked.

That’s right, Moguzo, thought Haruhiro. I’m sure I’m no better than this.

Haruhiro had no resolve. Even though, in the time since Manato had passed, he’d had more than enough time to make his peace with being the leader, he wasn’t even aware of how unprepared he was. He went with the flow, pressed by necessity, and somehow he’d managed to deal with all the tasks that had piled up in front of him up until now. That was all.

Manato had been different. He had only been able to be with them for a short time, but it had felt like, if they followed Manato, they could go somewhere. It’d felt like Manato would pull them along to a better place. It’d felt like Manato would lead them.

“We’ve become a good party,” Manato had once said.

Thinking back on it now, Manato had been able to see something then. Some sort of path that they should follow. Manato had had a vision for the future. He’d stood up front, looking further ahead than anyone else, his eyes turned upwards.

Haruhiro could see nothing. He wasn’t even trying to look. He couldn’t think about what was to come. What would things be like tomorrow... no, even later today? What was going to happen?

That was something that Haruhiro didn’t know. No, not just Haruhiro; nobody knew that.

He didn’t want to get his hopes up. He didn’t want to have hope.

He didn’t want to be disappointed. He didn’t want to get hurt.

His goals were always set low. He only wished for the things he thought he could get. If it didn’t work out, well, that was that. He could just abandon responsibility at the last moment. What choice did he have otherwise? He wasn’t cut out for this.

“Is that okay with you?” Manato asked once again. No.

No. That wasn’t it.

Manato wasn’t saying anything to him. He couldn’t.

Manato wasn’t going to show him where to go. Moguzo wouldn’t stand up front and swing his sword for them. Those two wouldn’t cheer Haruhiro on. They couldn’t give him courage. Because neither of them were here.

Because they were dead.

Haruhiro came to a stop, and so did the rest of the party. He took a deep breath. Things smelled a little different here, though it was hard to explain how. The air was damp.

“There are hurdles out there that are insurmountable,” Haruhiro said aloud. “That’s life. I’m sure there are things you just can’t do anything about. I can’t just say I’m sure it’ll work out somehow.”

Obviously, Haruhiro couldn’t be like Manato. Even so, he wanted to see new things with everyone. He wanted to pull everyone along the way Manato had. Not because he had no choice, but because it was what he wanted to do, Haruhiro would find his own way to make it happen. For that, he had to take things on one at a time.

First, no matter what happened, he couldn’t run away. He wouldn’t abandon his role, his position. That was one thing he now resolved never to do.

“But still,” Haruhiro said, “this one we can get over. I mean, we’ve experienced a lot of different stuff. This isn’t even tough next to some of the things we’ve gone through. If we’re all together, I’m not worried in the least.”

“There’s some big talk. Like you’re someone important.” Ranta gave a snorting laugh. “Well, when things get rough, you’ve got me. I can make anything work, man.”

“If there’s one thing we’re worried about...” Shihoru muttered.

“What was that?! I’ll grope you! You and your damn squeezable tits!” “Your lust is showing way too much there,” Haruhiro sighed.

“Shut your face, Pyarupyororon! Listen, man! Let me tell you, I’m pent up, okay!”

“Too much information, Ranta-kun...” Kuzaku muttered.

“Shut up! Fine, Kuzacky, Parupiro, what about the two of you?! If any healthy young man were living with women the way we’ve been, it’d be only natural for him to be so pent up that he was about to explode! If anything, there’d be something wrong with him as a man if he wasn’t, you know that?!”

“Is that how it is?” Merry glanced at Haruhiro and Kuzaku, hitting them with a question that was truly hard to answer.

“Well...” Haruhiro exchanged glances with Kuzaku.

Kuzaku shook his head, but it wasn’t clear what the gesture meant.

Haruhiro looked down and twisted his head to the side. “...Not really, not for me. It’s different for everyone, I mean, that’s true for anything, but everyone handles it differently, you could say...”

“Hrm...” Yume crossed her arms and puffed up one of her cheeks. “Hey, hey, he was sayin’ he’s pent up, but what exactly’s gettin’ pent up anyway?”

“Er, that’s...”

“Oh, and if he’s got somethin’ pent up, and it’s ready to burst, y’know, Yume was thinkin’ maybe he should just let it out.”

“Yume...” Shihoru tugged on Yume’s sleeve with an almost pitying look on her face.

The way Yume went “Huh?” like she wasn’t just playing dumb was

incredibly worrying.

Merry had her eyes cast downwards, like she was thinking about something, maybe. Was she at a loss for what to do?

Kuzaku was looking up for some reason. He apparently wanted to pretend this had nothing to do with him. No fair.

“Heheheheh....” Ranta laughed creepily. “...Heheheh. Gwahahahaha! That’s right, Yume. You’ve got it. If I’m pent up, I should just let it out! That’s the one true answer!”

“Uh-huh,” Yume said. “That’s why Yume said it.”

“But! If I’m letting it out, the thing is, I can’t just whip it out and go,” Ranta declared.

“Wuh? You can’t?”

“Yeah. Sorta. So, I’m gonna need you to put up with me for a bit. You were the one who suggested it, after all. Let me play with some tits. Let me play with your tits. While I play with your tits, I’m gonna—”

“Dark,” Shihoru called. The elemental appeared as if stepping forth from a door to some unseen world. He looked like black string coiled into the shape of a human. The elemental Dark perched on Shihoru’s shoulder.

“...H-Hey.” Ranta backed away. “H-Hold on. Okay? Lay off, Shihoru.” “Don’t say my name. You’re filthy...................... Dark.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, I-I get it, I mean, come on, you’re misunderstanding, i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-it was a joke, okay? A little joke! You ought to understand that much!”

“I don’t understand, and I have no desire to.”

“Sorry.. !” Ranta kowtowed so hard he slammed his head against the

ground. “I reeeeeally mean it! Sorry! I was totally in the wrong! It won’t happen again, I swear! Believe me! Please, I’m begging you!”

Ranta ought to be thankful that the exaggerated-but-cheap kowtow he was performing was enough to get Shihoru to let it slide. Also, he needed to reflect deeply on his behavior.

Not gonna happen? Yeah. Probably not.

Regardless, they probably had just a little farther to go.

The air was moist. It was flowing, too, if only slightly, and from the direction they were heading, at that. Haruhiro didn’t want to be overly optimistic, but there was no need to be too much of a pessimist, either. Whatever the case, the answer would soon be apparent.

Let’s keep going, he thought. We’ll find out if we keep moving forward.

“Fog,” Merry whispered.

“Yeah,” Ranta agreed, and then there was a long silence. “Heyyyyy?!

Why’s nobody saying anything?! Be like, ‘Sure is,’ or ‘Hey, you’re right,’ or something! This is where you’re supposed to say something like that, obviously! Are you bullying me?! My feelings can get hurt, too, y’know?!

Well, no, not really.”

“‘Not really,’ huh.” Haruhiro sighed. He was a little jealous of how tough Ranta was.

Fog.

It was true, there was a thin fog, or haze, or mist of some sort hanging in the air of the passageway. What it was called was determined by the visibility, right? Maybe it was only called mist in the spring. Whatever the case, countless fine droplets of water were floating in the air, making it look white. The further they went, the thicker it got, though only gradually.

Mr. Unjo, the super senior volunteer soldier, had once wandered into a foggy place on the border of the former kingdoms of Ishmal and Nananka and gotten lost. When he’d passed through the cave he’d found there, he said he had reached the mountain in Darunggar where the fire dragon lived.

The incline suddenly became a little more steep. At the top of the slope there was a bright white circle.

It’s just like the moon, thought Haruhiro.

There was no sun or moon in Darunggar, and Grimgar’s moon was red.

This was a whitish moon.

Where had he seen one of those? He didn’t know, but he definitely remembered it. The white moon hanging in the pitch-black sky. That had to be... their original world, maybe?

“Isn’t that the exit there?” Ranta said in an uncharacteristically subdued, even cautious, tone.

“Let’s take it slowly.” Haruhiro was aware that he had incredibly sleepy- looking eyes. He wasn’t tired, of course. If anything, his every sense felt heightened.

I want to get there quickly, thought Haruhiro. But don’t rush. I can’t be hasty. Settle down, and move forward calmly.

He looked to his comrades. Everyone was tense. Excited, too. Weren’t they getting a little too stiff? Well, he couldn’t blame them for that. Not this

time. After all... they might be able to go home. They might already be home.

He put out the lantern. They didn’t need its light anymore.

White. The fog was so thick. Even so, it was bright. Enough that his eyes hurt.

He took a deep breath of the cold, wet wind. It was markedly different from the air in Darunggar. The taste, the scent, everything. Every cell in his body felt revitalized. Even though it wouldn’t normally be his style, he wanted to do a little happy dance. He wouldn’t, though. Now wasn’t the time to celebrate.

The exit was right there. Only three more meters. Because of the slope, his stride was currently about forty centimeters. In seven or eight steps, he would be at the exit.

He took a deep breath on the sixth, then stopped. Seven steps.

On his eighth step, he was finally outside.

It was all white. He could barely see a thing. That reminded him once again that it was too early to start celebrating. They had no idea what their current location was, or the lay of the land.

“Yume and everyone made it back, huh...” Yume said from behind him.

From the tearful sound of her voice, the air wasn’t the only thing around here that was a bit misty.

Shihoru let out a deep sigh.

Merry put an arm around Yume and Shihoru’s shoulders.

The way Kuzaku thumped his chest once with a “Yeah!” and then focused on the task at hand again was heartening to see.

Ranta was looking around this way and that.

Was the sky cloudy, or was it just the fog? It wasn’t clear where the sun was, but with how bright it was here, it was probably still high in the sky.

“This is near the border of the former kingdoms of Nananka and Ishmal...

I think,” Haruhiro said.

His legs felt ready to give out. Haruhiro clicked his tongue. He wished he could fix this weakness of his. He had to.

“I don’t know the precise location,” he added. “But the one thing I am clear on is that we need to head south. South is... Er, Yume?”

“Meow? Oh. Well, if the sun were out, Yume’d be able to tell you. Mr.

Moon or the stars would work, too. It’d even be possible to more or less

figure it out goin’ by the rings of a tree stump, though.”

“Can’t see the sun here...” Kuzaku looked up at the sky, then around the area. “There are stumps, though. Or trees, at least.”

Just as Kuzaku had noted, there were countless trees growing nearby.

Some were straight, others were crooked, but none were especially thick or tall. There were fern-like plants on the ground, too. Walking around for a bit, the soil was so soft that it could have been called muddy.

“It’s hard walking...” Shihoru complained.

“Pfeh.” Ranta spat. “I dunno how heavy your tits are, but quit your moaning. This is no big deal.”

Merry immediately swung her head staff with no expression. “I don’t think we made you kowtow enough last time, did we?”

“Eek! L-Like I told you, it’s a joke, okay, a joke! Geez! You should never forget your sense of humor! It’s a lubricant for relationships! Like me!”

Haruhiro could have come up with a witty retort, but there would be no end to it, and giving Ranta any attention would only make him worse.

Leaving Ranta alone and moving around a bit near the entrance to the passageway, there were a lot of sudden rises and falls in elevation. Haruhiro didn’t see any stumps. It seemed there was no one doing any logging around here, human or otherwise. Should they try cutting one down themselves? If they were to use one of the blades they had on hand, it wouldn’t be impossible, but Ranta’s RIPer and Kuzaku’s black blade were both weapons, unsuited to felling trees. Yume’s Wan-chan was like a machete, so it could probably hack off branches. Cutting down a whole tree, however, might be difficult.

“What, she can’t cut down a tree real quick with magic? She’s useless for anything other than her tits...” Ranta said under his breath.

Shihoru didn’t seem to have heard him, but he clearly hadn’t learned his lesson.

Were they going to go out of their way to cut down a tree? What were they going to do? It was a minor decision, but Haruhiro was surprisingly torn on it.

While he was still wavering, Yume said, “Hmm, let’s see,” and then offered some advice. “With tree rings, y’can more or less figure out the direction, but my master was sayin’ that the precision is low. When Yume asked him if he meant she should cut it down low, he told her, ‘No, that’s not

it, it means it’s not very accurate.’”

It was hard to be a decisive leader. Even so, he still had to aim to become one.

“First...” Haruhiro decided to speak up. If he kept quiet, everyone would get nervous. I’ll just say something, he thought. He’d sort out his thoughts on the matter as he spoke. “...we head back to Alterna. That’s our greatest goal, but it’s pretty far. It’s got to be six hundred, maybe seven hundred kilometers...”

Even having said it himself, it was dizzying to hear. It was supposed to be three hundred kilometers just to cross the Quickwind Plains north of Alterna and reach the Shadow Forest where the elves were said to live. North of the Shadow Forest was the former kingdom of Arabakia, and the former kingdoms of Nananka and Ishmal had to be even further than that.

In other words, this was five, six, or seven hundred kilometers from Alterna. Possibly even more.

How were they going to move around? They didn’t know the roads. On top of that, they were in enemy territory. It felt pretty much impossible.

No, no, no. Stop that, Haruhiro told himself. You can’t give up.

“If we assume it’s seven hundred kilometers, that’ll be thirty-five days if we walk twenty kilometers a day,” Haruhiro told them. “I think twenty kilometers a day is fairly realistic, but we’re looking at least that long. We’ll need water and food. It hurts that the fog makes visibility here so poor, but it helps, too, I guess. Even if there are enemies about, it’ll be hard to get spotted. Even if we do get spotted, we can take advantage of it while running away. As for the direction... Well, the fog will clear eventually. If the fog were out year round, there wouldn’t be so many trees here. If we move around carelessly and find out it was the wrong direction later, it won’t do us any good. For now, let’s stay near the exit and wait for the fog to thin out.

Once we know the direction, we’ll all set out together. I’m going to go scout things out while being careful not to get lost. It’s safest for me to move alone, so while I’m sure the rest of you are feeling restless, do try to get some rest.”

“Um, hey.” Yume raised her hand. “Would it be okay if Yume came with you?”

“Don’t do it,” Ranta said in a whisper. “It could be dangerous.”

“Why does Yume need you worryin’ about her? You oughta mind your own pea patch,” Yume retorted.

“I-I’m not worried! Wh-Who’d be worried about you, you moron?! A-A- Also, it’s beeswax, not pea patch, okay?”

“Ahh. Yume got it wrong. It’s supposed to be beeswax, huh.” “W-W-Well, be more careful!”

“What are you so shaken up over...?” Shihoru shuddered. “It’s creepy.” “I know.” Merry cast a cold look in Ranta’s direction as she agreed. “It

gives me nothing if not an ominous feeling.”

“Give me some human rights!” Ranta yelled. “I’ll cry, damn it! Wahh, wahh, wahh, the women are bullying me! Let me squeeze your tits! Just enough to see what they feel like!”

Just how desperately did he want to squeeze them? There had to be limits to how sexually frustrated the guy could be. Was he gonna be okay? It was a bit scary, but, well, it’d probably be fine. Ranta didn’t have the guts to try and get his way by force.

Haruhiro reflected upon Yume’s request. Yume was a hunter. Her knowledge and skills would be of help. She had good eyes and ears, too. She was also light on her feet, so she wouldn’t be a burden.

“Okay. Yume, you come along, too,” Haruhiro decided. “Everyone else wait here.”

“Meowger!” Yume declared.

The two of them left to scout. Just to be on the safe side, he marked the trees using his knife with the guard on it as they went. If he did this, even if they didn’t know which way was which, they could follow the marks back to their comrades.

Still, the terrain here was ridiculous, or just plain awful. It suddenly sloped up and down, and there were hardly any level spots. Even if the fog cleared, they probably wouldn’t be able to see very far. In fact, even when the fog thinned slightly, their line of vision was quickly blocked by the trees or some protuberance in the ground up ahead.

“It’s somewhere between noon and evenin’, maybe,” Yume offered. “That’s just what it sort of feels like, though.”

“I’d say that’s about right,” Haruhiro agreed. “I’m just going on a vague hunch, too, though.”

Based on Haruhiro’s senses, they had traveled around five hundred meters in a mostly straight line away from the exit to the passageway. They’d found nothing. The sense that this wouldn’t be easy only deepened.

Even so, Yume was bright and cheerful, so for all the seriousness of their situation, it didn’t feel as grave as it maybe should have.

“You’re always saving me,” Haruhiro told her. “Fwuh? What’s this all of a sudden?”

“Well, I mean, without you here, we’d be a pretty gloomy party.” “Hmmm,” Yume said. “Even without Yume, y’know, Ranta’d still be just

as noisy, don’tcha think?”

“But the reason I don’t have to butt heads with him quite so hard is because you’re here.”

“That Ranta...” Yume suddenly came to a stop, tilting her head to the side. “Why do you think he wants to squeeze boobies so bad? Do all boys want to squeeze girls’ boobies?”

“Well...” Looking at the group as a whole, that might not be untrue, but to generalize that they all did would also be false. Or maybe it wouldn’t. But he was pretty sure it would be. “It depends on the person,” Haruhiro finished at last.

“How about you, Haru-kun?” “Huh? Me? Nah, I’m...”

What is this? he thought, suddenly tense. What do I do? Is it safest to deny it? But is that honest? If I did, would I be lying to Yume? I don’t want to lie to a valued comrade. But what harm can a little white lie do? Still, as a man with few redeeming qualities, I at least want to be sincere with my comrades.

“...I-If they belonged to someone I like, maybe?” Haruhiro hedged. “Ohhh. Huh. So that’s how it works. Yume loves squeezin’ Shihoru and

Merry’s boobs, after all. Yume, she likes Shihoru and Merry... Hm?”

“Huh. ?” Haruhiro asked, flustered.

“In that case, does that mean Ranta’s wantin’ to squeeze Yume’s boobies ’cause he likes her? If he hated Yume, he probably wouldn’t want to squeeze her boobs.”

Yume, Haruhiro thought, shuddering. Damn, she’s scary. She just went and opened up Pandora’s box like it was nothing.

The truth was, Haruhiro couldn’t deny the possibility, and he’d thought about it before, too. Like, he’d thought there was something kind of strange about Ranta’s attitude towards Yume. But it wasn’t enough that he could be sure of it, and it was questionable whether Ranta himself realized it. With everything so iffy, Haruhiro had figured maybe it was best not to touch the

subject—it’d be a hassle, after all—so he’d done his best to pretend he didn’t notice.

But then, Haruhiro was probably the type who was a little dense about these things, so he might have just been misunderstanding the situation.

“...I don’t think he hates you, no,” Haruhiro said at last. “Obviously. He doesn’t. Like, for someone to hate you, Yume, there’d have to be something wrong with them... Well, there is something wrong with him...”

“Why would there have to be somethin’ wrong with a person if they hated Yume?” she asked.

“Ah, I mean, well, I dunno. It’s just there’s so little to hate about you.” “Y’think? Well then, do you like Yume, Haru-kun?”

“Sure. I like you,” he said, then thought, Oh, was that okay? Am I in trouble? Is she gonna misunderstand? and started feeling uncertain about it.

But when he saw Yume smiling and saying, “Oh, I see,” he was embarrassed by how impure he was.

Yes. Yes! That was right. It was right.

Having affection for a person was a matter of whether or not you liked them, not about romantic intentions, and it needed to be thought of as separate from anything sexual. In that sense, Haruhiro certainly did like Yume. He could say that with pride. Of course he liked her. Of course he did. She was Yume, after all. That was a given. He had to like her. But still...

“Yume feels the same.” She said that to him with a goofy smile, and his heart raced just a little. “Yume likes you, too, Haru-kun.”

“...Th-Thanks.” Haruhiro scratched his head. “Uh, is it weird for me to say that...?”

“Dunno. But if you’re feelin’ thankful, Yume thinks it’s okay to say so. When you do, it makes the person who said it feel good, too. Of course, that goes for Yume, too. She’s feelin’ super-duper happy now.”

“I... guess so.” He hesitated. “If you don’t say what you feel, people may never know, after all. Yeah...”

“So, if Ranta likes Yume, he should just say so, huh? He’s always bullyin’ her, or callin’ her Tiny Tits, after all.”

“He can have a pretty hard time being honest about how he feels,” Haruhiro told her.

Or rather, the kind of liking someone Yume was talking about and the way Ranta liked her were different. Even if Ranta did come out and tell her

honestly, Yume might take it differently from how he intended, and it could turn into a huge mess. There was a lot of room for worry there.

In the end, Haruhiro couldn’t help but think preserving the status quo was for the best. Maybe there was room for improving his usual wait-and-see attitude.

He’d have to think about it. Not now, though. It looked like they had bigger concerns.

Haruhiro put a finger to his lips. He pressed himself against a nearby tree.

Yume followed right behind him.

There was a noise. What was it?

Yume pointed up ahead to the left. Haruhiro looked over there. He tried squinting his eyes. He couldn’t see anything through the fog. But if he focused in that direction, he could hear the sound more clearly than before. Noise? Voices? Fighting? Was it wild beasts? Or...?

It was time to make a decision. Naturally, he wanted to avoid danger. Did they hurriedly retreat? It wasn’t clear if there was even any danger at this point, so maybe it was best to ascertain that much first? He personally wanted to run away, but that was only because Haruhiro was a coward.

He could still hear the sounds. Were they gradually getting closer? Hold on, this was—a voice.

Yes. It was a voice. Not screaming or shouting. Speaking in words. That was what it sounded like.

“Humans...” Yume said in a hushed voice.

He agreed. It was hard to believe, given their location, but it was probably a human male’s voice. Naturally, Haruhiro was surprised. Was he disoriented? No, it wasn’t that bad. His pulse was racing a little, but he believed he was still calm.

Haruhiro motioned for Yume to follow him, then started walking. Then, less than thirty seconds later, he sensed a presence that seemed to stab into him from behind.

There was something behind him.

Yume didn’t seem to have detected it. If he turned to look, it would strike.

That was the sense he got. But he couldn’t just stay as he was. The other party was sure to come at them eventually. He had to move first.

“Yume, get down!” Haruhiro shouted and did an about-face. Yume was already getting down. Haruhiro switched his knife to his left hand, drawing

his stiletto with his right and jumping over Yume. “Wait, wait, wait!” Haruhiro shouted.

A person. It was a human, wearing what looked like a fur-lined coat and a knitted hat. There was a bow in their right hand, an arrow in their left. Both hands were in the air.

This bearded man had closed in to a distance of thirty meters behind Haruhiro and Yume. It was unbelievable. Or rather, Haruhiro didn’t want to believe it. To think he hadn’t noticed until the man got that close.

Haruhiro still had his knife and stiletto at the ready, just in case. But he was more surprised than anything. He was feeling shaken, and his thoughts were a mess. He couldn’t hope to fight like this.

“‘Wait,’ you said?” A smile appeared on the man’s chiseled features, and he tossed his bow, and then his arrow, to the side. “There. I won’t do anything to you. It’s okay. I never meant to kill you, after all. But you’re suspicious, you know that, right? Humans like you, in a place like this. You don’t look like you’re from the village, either. But neither am I, you know?”

“...Hrmm.” Yume was still on the ground, still covering her head with her hands as she looked up. “You kiiiiinda sorta look like a hunter, huh?”

“Oh? You’re a hunter, too, young miss? Well, it’s former for me. I’m a warrior now,” the man said. “So that’d make you a volunteer soldier.”

“You, too?” Haruhiro wanted to let out a long sigh, but he refrained and tried to keep to short, shallow breaths.

Don’t carelessly let yourself feel relieved, he cautioned himself. You can’t let your guard down.

“Are you also a volunteer soldier?” he asked.

“Been one for over ten years now,” the man said. “Thanks to that, I’ve gotten old.”

“Well, that would make you our senior... I guess.”

“Well, about the only thing I can teach you is how to drink until you get a hangover.” The bearded man shrugged his shoulders, giving them a smile that seemed awfully unguarded. “I’m Kuro.”

“Kuro... Wait...” Haruhiro murmured.

Hold on, he thought. Wait, wait, wait. I feel like I know that name. I’ve heard it somewhere. Is it just by chance? Pure coincidence? But maybe he actually is that person. This place being where it is. There can’t be many volunteer soldiers who can come out this far.

“...You wouldn’t happen to be Kuro-san of the Day Breakers, would you?”

“Hm?” Kuro pointed at himself, his eyes wide. “Wait, am I famous?” “No, um... I, or we actually, we’re technically sort of... members of the

Day Breakers.”

“The way you’re dressed, you’re a thief,” the man said. “...Haruhiro?” “Yes. Huh? Why do you know? Oh, is that it? You heard from Soma

that—”

Kuro burst out laughing. “You people were alive! Bwahahaha!” “Wh-What are you laughing for?! Is it something to laugh about?!”

“How rude.” Yume was still down on the ground. “It’s a happy day, isn’t it? Right?”

“Oh, happy day!” Kuro pointed at Yume and laughed out loud. “You’re right, it is a happy day, bwahahaha! Well, I’m glad you’re alive, yeah, real glad! This is a happy day! I’d figured you’d all bought it, after all!

Gwahahahaha!”

Haruhiro was dumbfounded. Kuro was clutching his belly, and there we even tears in his eyes. He was laughing way too hard. What was with this guy? He was creepy. Or rather, he was pissing Haruhiro off.

“Whew, sorry, sorry.” Kuro wiped his tears away with his thumb and picked up his bow and arrow. “But it’s certainly a coincidence. Like, would we run into one another, normally? Well, I’m just glad you’re not an enemy. Saves me the trouble of killing you. I’m busy enough as it is right now. So, on that note, I don’t have time to look after you, but take care.”

Returning his arrow to its quiver, Kuro waved to them with bow in hand and walked away. His steps looked slow and relaxed, but they were mysteriously quick. Quiet, too. He barely made a sound. At a glance, he seemed to be wide open from behind, but if they attacked, he would easily dodge them. More than that, they’d likely receive a painful riposte. This guy was good.

“Wait... Huh?” Haruhiro burst out. “Uh? Hold on, you’re leaving.. Uh?

No way, h-hold on, please, where are you going?! H-Hey! We’re lost! We don’t know the way back!”

“Huhhh?” Kuro turned back and started laughing again. “Bwaha! Lost?!

You’re lost, wow, seriously, you’re kidding, right? If you can’t get back home, that’s hilarious! You guys are great!”

“...It’s nothing to laugh about,” Haruhiro muttered.

“Hee.” Yume started giggling, too. She was still down on the ground, incidentally. “Somehow, y’know, even Yume’s startin’ to think it’s funny. Hee, hehehehehe...”

“Okay, got it.” Kuro sniffed his nose as he beckoned to them. “You guys, come with me for a bit. I’ll do something about the road back for you. Like I said before, I’m a busy man. I’ve got some things to sort out. You don’t have to help; just watch. Okay?”

They couldn’t refuse. Kuro was clearly a weirdo, but he was in the Day Breakers. Probably. He was supposed to be.

This was an unexpected bit of good luck. What was it that he needed to sort out? It wasn’t dangerous, was it? There were things that left Haruhiro feeling uncertain, but if they didn’t take this opportunity, they might never make it back.

“W-We’ll help!” Haruhiro grabbed Yume’s hand and pulled her to her feet. “Well, only if it seems like we can, that is!”

“No need to push yourselves.” Kuro grinned and started walking.

He was rather fast, and keeping up with him was difficult. It wasn’t a matter of just running. The footing was really bad, and if they took one wrong step, they’d be liable to trip or slip. If they weren’t careful, they might even sprain an ankle. It was only because Haruhiro was a thief and Yume was a hunter that they were managing not to fall behind. That was the best they could do. He couldn’t afford to look at the area around them.

He could hear the noises, though.

Beyond the fog, something... someone... was there.

There was a place where the ground suddenly swelled up, and when they went around to the other side, there were a number of humanoid figures. It was hard to see them through the mist, but they might not all be human.

No, not “might.” They definitely weren’t.

“Stop.” Kuro raised his hand to stop Haruhiro and Yume. “Well, well.

Moyugi-kun’s hard at work. Well, he’s got Moira with him, after all.” “Moira...” Haruhiro said slowly.

There was a name he didn’t recognize. He did recognize “Moyugi,” though. He was a member of the Day Breakers, like Kuro. He was a member of a famous party, the Rocks, or Typhoon Rocks, led by Rock.

Which of them was Moyugi? The moving figures, there were... six of

them? One of them had to be— “Oh...” Haruhiro whispered. Now there was one fewer.

That whitish figure. That one was most likely human. The figure backed away, thrusting out with some sort of weapon, and that caused another figure to collapse. He’d finished off one of them.

“Guess I’ll get moving, too.” Kuro nocked an arrow to his bow. Or so Haruhiro thought, but he’d already let it loose.

Wasn’t that shot kind of fast? Did he aim properly?

Either way, it looked like he’d hit. Yet another one of the figures collapsed.

“Would you kindly mind your own business?!” someone shouted. That was probably Moyugi’s voice. He might have been saying it to Kuro.

Kuro said, “Yeah, yeah,” and lowered his bow. It might be none of Haruhiro’s business to think this, but was it really okay for him to do that?

Yume, who was crouched down next to Haruhiro, let out an impressed sigh.

Excuse me...? What are you crouching down and relaxing for? I know there’s an atmosphere, or general flow of events here, like we don’t need to do anything, though.

“I have this all planned out properly!” the person who seemed to be Moyugi declared.

The whitish figure moved smoothly. The remaining three figures tried to close in on the whitish figure that was likely Moyugi from three sides.

Moyugi ran away. Or rather, ran towards them. He was running this way. But was Haruhiro imagining it? That guy, is he facing backwards...?

Moyugi looked like he was facing backwards.

He’ll get caught like that, won’t he? There’s no way he can get away.

None. Should we help him? But he got mad at Kuro for interfering when he tried. He said he had this planned out, or something like that.

“Funah!” Yume let out a weird cry, and Haruhiro gulped.

All of a sudden, Moyugi tripped. However, rather than landing on his backside, it looked like maybe he’d sat down on his own...?

Naturally, sensing this was their chance, the three figures rushed at Moyugi.

That one’s an orc, realized Haruhiro.

The humanoid figure swinging a curved single-edged sword down at Moyugi had to be an orc, based on his body structure. The other two looked similar to humans, but it was unclear what they were.

Suddenly, from above the orc’s head, a thing appeared. Or that was what it looked like, but that was impossible, so it must have been hiding somewhere. It mounted the orc’s neck. Wrapping both its legs around the orc’s neck and twisting, and slamming a scissor-like blade into the top of his head, the thing let out a disturbing cry that grated on the nerves of all who heard it. “Nooooooooooooo!”

Having seen what a horrible thing had happened to the orc, the other two were shocked. Well, yeah, of course they’d be shocked. The two flinched and shouted something, then came to a halt.

Moyugi stood up. He hadn’t tripped, after all. He’d sat down on his own.

If he hadn’t, he wouldn’t have been able to just stand back up like nothing had happened.

As an afterthought, Moyugi stabbed his thin weapon into one of the enemies’ faces, then tore it free. It didn’t feel like an especially sharp move, and Haruhiro couldn’t help but think, What, it’s going to go down to that?

He also thought, Hurry, hurry. There’s still another enemy, after all.

Don’t just take it easy, you need to hurry up and attack or—See. See, see, see!

I told you so. Well, no, I didn’t tell you, but I did think it. I knew you needed to hurry.

Maybe because it was enraged by the death of its comrades, the remaining enemy came at Moyugi with incredible vigor.

However, and Haruhiro was only noticing this now, Moyugi was wearing glasses. He pushed them up with his left hand, and greeted the incoming enemy with—nothing. He retreated.

He didn’t really jump back; it was more like he was drawing back. He backed away from the enemy, snaking back and forth as he did.

The enemy was hot on Moyugi’s heels.

Oh, no, Haruhiro thought. Not good. He’ll close in on him soon. Just one more step, and—

At that point, for some reason, the enemy lost his balance. Had something tripped him up? That was what it looked like. It was a perfect chance for

Moyugi. He didn’t miss it, of course. If anything, it looked like he had predicted it would happen, and that thin weapon of his stabbed through the enemy. When he pulled it free, the enemy collapsed to the ground.

The thing that had snapped the orc’s neck with its legs was now fishing around inside the orc’s skull with something like a pair of scissors. It had apparently finished its job. The thing left the orc’s corpse and went to stand beside Moyugi. It looked almost like a long-haired woman, but it probably wasn’t human. The woman’s shoulders were too square, her back too hunched, and her waist was too thin. She was something else.

“Looks like it’s over.” Kuro walked over toward Moyugi.

Haruhiro exchanged glances with Yume, then followed after Kuro. Yume hopped along after them, too.

Moyugi was even more lightly equipped than Kuro. He wore a white top that was practically a shirt, along with ordinary pants. His shoes were nothing out of the ordinary. His backpack wasn’t especially big. He had a sheath hanging at his hip. In his hands he held a thin, straight sword. Honestly, his attire was nothing special. That was bizarre, and somewhat scary.

What was more, Moyugi immediately extended a hand to Haruhiro, and introduced himself like so.

“Greetings. I am the current strongest dread knight, Moyugi. I know not who you are, but it is a pleasure to meet you.”

“N-N-Nice...” Haruhiro accepted the hand extended to him without meaning to. “...to meet... you. Um, er... I’m Haruhiro. From the Day Breakers...”

“Indeed.” When Moyugi released Haruhiro’s hand, he pressed on the bridge of his glasses with the middle finger of his right hand, the corners of his mouth turning upwards. “I thought that might be who you were. No matter how much of an incorrigible fool our Kuro is, he wouldn’t go dragging around just anyone who he happened to meet out here. From the looks of you, you’re a young male thief. The young woman is a hunter. You must be Haruhiro-kun and Yume-kun, yes? I’ve heard about you from Soma. To think you actually made it back alive from the Dusk Realm. I’m surprised. Is it just the two of you? What about Ranta-kun, Shihoru-kun, Merry-kun, and Kuzaku-kun? Did they die?”

“Of course they’re alive!” Yume’s face distorted with anger, but, this being Yume, it wasn’t all that intimidating.

Regardless, she still rounded on Moyugi with a reasonably threatening attitude, her brow furrowed and her cheeks puffed up. She stood on her tiptoes and got her face up as close to Moyugi’s as she could. Yume must have been thought she was being intimidating.

“I see.” Without so much as a change in his expression, he grabbed Yume by the chin. “That is most wonderful. Now, would you mind if I suck your face?”

“...My faaaace?” Yume blinked. “Suck it? Hmmm...?”

“Wh-Wh-Whoa, whoa, whoa, what’re you doing?!” Haruhiro hurriedly pulled Moyugi away from Yume. “What’s this, out of nowhere?! Could you not?! You’re not making any sense!”

“I’m not making sense, am I? You say some strange things.” Moyugi tilted his head to the side. “If you see a woman, the first thing you should do is take her, isn’t it? I am the strongest dread knight in active service, you realize?”

“Well, yeah.” Kuro stroked his beard. “I dunno about you being the strongest dread knight, really, but if you think you can do her, you’ve gotta go for it. I’m not into kids, though.”

“I’m heterosexual, so I limit myself based on gender, but when it comes to women, I’ll do just about anyone,” Moyugi declared. “No matter how bizarre or unappealing, they each have their own unique flavor, you see.”

What was with these people? Just maybe, had they run into a couple of crazies? No, not “maybe”—these guys were definitely nuts. It was probably best not to get involved with them.

If possible, Haruhiro didn’t want to be anywhere near them, but even setting aside their connection through the Day Breakers, if he didn’t get those two to tell him the route, their trip back to Alterna would get that much longer. Worse than that, it might not even be possible to get back without relying on them. When Haruhiro had Yume get behind him for protection, his eyes were practically spinning.

What would he do? What could he do? What should he do?

“It can wait for now.” Moyugi sheathed his thin sword. “We’re a little busy at the moment, you see. Come along now, Kuro, Moira.”

“Noooo...” The being that looked like a long-haired woman gave him an unhappy-sounding reply. That was apparently Moira. Moyugi was a dread knight, so maybe she was his demon.

Moyugi walked off at a brisk pace with Moira in tow.

“You people come, too.” Kuro gestured to them with his chin and then followed Moyugi and Moira.

“...Um, our comrades aren’t with us yet,” Haruhiro said, but Kuro turned back and scowled in irritation.

“They can wait until later. We’re sort of in a hurry. I’ll leave you behind.”

They really can’t wait, and you guys don’t seem like you’re in that much of a rush, now do you? Haruhiro wanted to argue back, but he couldn’t see it getting him anywhere, so he followed Kuro. Moyugi and Moira were already on the other side of the fog.

“Hey, Haru-kun.” Yume tugged on his cloak. “Yume’s thinkin’ it might be best if she went back. Do you know the way, maybe...?”

“Let’s follow those people,” Haruhiro responded immediately and pulled Yume along by the hand as he followed Kuro.

When Yume said that, he realized that he’d made a fatal mistake, but rather than wander lost in the fog, he was better off cooperating with his highly capable seniors in the Day Breakers who were no doubt familiar with the area. For that reason, they couldn’t split away from Kuro and Moyugi.

Up until he’d noticed Kuro sneaking up on them, Haruhiro had been marking the trees as they went along. Ever since, he hadn’t left a single mark.

“Sorry, Yume,” Haruhiro said. “I completely forgot to leave marks.” “Well, if you’re gonna say that,” Yume said, squeezing Haruhiro’s hand

tight, “Yume didn’t do it, either. It’s a bad habit of yours, the way you go takin’ all the blame for things.”

“...I see. I’ll try to be careful about it. But, while this may be both of our faults, I’m still in the wrong.”

Because I’m the leader.

Was he unable to say that out loud because of embarrassment? Or was it because he wasn’t able to fully shoulder the burden yet?

That aside, there hadn’t been any need for them to hold hands, had there? It felt even less necessary for them to keep holding them now, too. However, Yume was gripping his hand pretty tight, so it was hard to let go. If he could offer her even a little support, he felt like he shouldn’t let go.

Honestly, it was reassuring for Haruhiro, too, and finding the right time to let go was tough...

2.    An Odd Couple

“So slow!” Ranta snapped and shouted out loud, his eyes wide open. “When are they getting back?! They said they were going scouting, damn it, scouting! They’re taking too damn long! It’s weird! Something must’ve happened! Hold on, could they be... Were they all alone together in the mist, and they felt a spark and just sort of... s-started going at it...?!”

“...Nah.” Kuzaku waved his hand dismissively. “That’d never happen. Not with Haruhiro. He’s not you, Ranta-kun.”

“Come on, don’t go slogging me like it’s an afterthought!”

“You mean slagging, not slogging.” Merry sighed. “How can you go around imagining things like that about your comrades? Unbelievable.”

“You never know, right?!” Ranta yelled back. “They’re a guy and a girl, after all! Besides, it was weird that Yume suggested she go with him! She coulda let Haruhiro go scouting on his own, like always! Y-Yeah... I’ll bet Yume secretly has a thing for—”

“Yume doesn’t seem interested in that sort of stuff...” Shihoru was as cold as ever. “But, even if she were, how would that be a problem?”

“I-It’s a problem. You know! Of course it is. It affects the party’s sense, of, uh, what was it again... Well, you know? It’s not like it’s against any rules, but they could be more open about it. If not, I mean, it’s an affront to common decency, right? Hey, why are you all looking like you don’t care? I’m talking about some important stuff here, you know?”

“Setting aside the question of whether or not it’s actually important, do we really need to talk about it now?” Merry asked, with absolute cold.

“Fine, I get it!” Ranta crossed his arms and puffed up his chest. “In that case, let’s talk about something really important. Haruhiro and Yume left to scout, but they haven’t come back. It’s taking way too long. I think

something happened to them, so do we just sit here? Until sundown? For a night? Two nights? Three nights? Are you all okay with that?”

“...What do you think we should do, Ranta-kun?” Shihoru asked. “I’m glad you asked, Shihoru!” he hollered.

“The way you said that pisses me off...”

“Even if you do get pissy, I don’t care one bit! So, anyway, in my opinion, we should go looking for them!”

“What if we miss each other?” Merry demanded. “That’s an excellent question, Merry-saaaan.” “...I want to kill you.”

“Now, now, don’t get so mad over such a little thing! It’s a waste of that pretty face of yours, you know? You’re beautiful, all right? Smile. Okay?”

“Could you stop? I’m not sure I can put up with you any longer.” “Righto, righto. I think it’s a bit much that you snap at me over a

compliment, but I’ll stop, I’ll totally stop, I’ve done enough. So, about if we miss each other. The missing each other problem. I’m worried about that, too, but, well, can’t we just leave half of the group here? Perfect solution.”

“Hmm...” Kuzaku groaned. “Well, I am a little worried...”

“That’s—” Merry couldn’t say she was unconcerned, and that she thought they should just leave the two of them to handle themselves. “...I feel the same way.”

Shihoru hung her head and touched her lips. “But half of the group...” “So, for a start, I’d be going, right?” Ranta gestured to himself with his

thumb. “I mean, that’s a given. Which means Kuzaku would be staying. He’d have to.”

Merry glanced to Kuzaku. Kuzaku just so happened to be looking at Merry at the same time, so they ended up looking into each other’s eyes. However, they both immediately looked away.

“I’ll go,” Merry sighed, shaking her head. “Left to your own devices, you’ll cause trouble, and I don’t want to put Shihoru in danger.”

“The way you said that, isn’t it like you’re assuming that being with me guarantees she’ll be in danger?” Ranta asked.

“Isn’t it dangerous just being alone with you? Think back a little about how you behave, why don’t you?”

“Okay, sure, I said I’d like to squeeze her tits, and I asked her to let me, but I’m not seriously going to try to squeeze them at a time like this, okay?!

Use some common sense, would you?”

“Common sense...?” Shihoru looked at him with utter disbelief. “This, coming from the guy with the least common sense in the world?”

“Anyway, I’ll protect Shihoru-san,” Kuzaku said with a sideways glance, not to Shihoru, but to Merry. “But still, Ranta-kun, don’t go too far. It’d be pointless if you got lost.”

“Be careful,” Shihoru added, but it was clear that Merry was the only one she was actually concerned about.

“Yeah.” Merry smiled just at Shihoru. “You, too, Shihoru... Oh, and

Kuzaku.”

“The way you people play at being friends makes me sick. Bleh. ” Ranta

muttered and then stepped out into the fog.

Merry followed after him without a word.

Huh? he thought.

Wasn’t she closer to him than usual? Maybe, for all her complaining, she actually didn’t hate Ranta all that much? No, no, maybe she even kind of liked him?

Yeah, no. Not a chance. She was probably just sticking close because the fog was thick and she didn’t want to get split up.

“She’s not even subtle about it, seriously,” Ranta muttered. “Did you say something?”

“Not a word. —Oh, yeah. This is the time for... O darkness, O lord of

vice, Demon Call.”

When summoned, a dark purple cloud formed a vortex, and.. out it came.

It was here.

It looked like a person with a purple sheet over its head, with two evil, hole-like eyes, and a vicious gash-like mouth underneath them. In its right hand it held a knife that could only be called an assassin’s dagger, and in its left hand it held a fearsome club. It had two proper legs, but it floated in the air. It was pretty close to a human in size.

“Zodiac-kun! You were so tiny in Darunggar!” Ranta, full of emotion, tried to hug the demon, but it dodged him. “—Wait, what?!”

“Ehe... Ehehehe... Ranta... Honestly, you’re annoying... Kehehehehe. ”

“Hey, buddy, you’re like an extension of me!” “What a bother... Ehehehehe................ ”

“Poor Zodiac-kun,” Merry sighed.

“Don’t go pitying him, Merry! Z-Zodiac-kun’s just, you know, awkward! Basically... he can’t be honest with himself, with his feelings, but the truth is, he loves me...”

“Ranta...” Zodiac-kun hissed.

“Wh-What, Zodiac-kun? Did you have something to say?” “When it comes to you...”

Not a chance.

“Y-Yeah?” Ranta asked.

“From the bottom of my heart, I...” “Uh huh?”

“...feel nothing but disdain... and hate for you... Ehe...” “Ouch!” Ranta complained.

Well, even though Zodiac-kun said that, the demon still came when summoned, and would stay at his side. Ranta knew there was no questioning it. Zodiac-kun loved Ranta. He could tell, even if Zodiac-kun was the only one who did.

“...I mean, that’s all a dread knight really needs, am I right?” “Ehe... Talking to yourself, Ranta? How pitiful... Kehehehe...”

“Shut up,” Ranta snapped. “Just shut up! I’m your master, got it?! If you aren’t more servile, I’ll never use you again!”

“...Kehe... Fine by me...”

Leaving those words behind, poof... Zodiac-kun disappeared.

“Huh? Wait... Zodiac-kun? F-Fine, then. I can just summon you again. O Darkness, O Lord of Vice, Demon Call. ...Huh? No response? Why...?”

“Even Zodiac-kun’s finally given up on you now, don’t you think?” Merry asked.

Merry’s words stabbed into Ranta’s chest. What did she mean, “finally”?

What did she mean “even Zodiac-kun”?

Damn it...

Ranta hung his head.

The next moment, he puffed his chest out and held his head high. “Gahaha! Fine! Who needs Zodiac-kun?! I’m glad to be rid of him!” “...It looks to me like you’re crying, though.”

“You’re imagining it,” Ranta blustered. “Like I’d ever cry. I’d never cry.

Not me.”

“I’m sure Zodiac-kun will appear again eventually.”

“Merryyyyy! Don’t be so quick to console me! I’ll fall for youuuu!”

“I won’t console you again,” Merry said. “Never again, no matter what happens.”

“If something happens, I don’t mind if you do, okay?! I won’t fall for you! I swear! Please!”

But Merry was stubborn, and wouldn’t give in to begging. Well, a dread knight didn’t need anyone to console him, anyway, so it was fine. Now then, how would they search for Haruhiro and Yume?

There was a mark in one of the trees, carved with a knife or something similar. That caught his attention. When he found a second mark, it clicked for him.

“These weird marks,” Ranta said. “I’m sure that moron Haruhiro left them. Seems like the sort of thing he’d come up with.”

“You didn’t need to call them weird, or call him a moron,” Merry reproached. “But, yeah, I think so, too.”

“He set it up so that he could find his way back, so why isn’t he back yet?” Ranta complained.

Merry said nothing, but she seemed to agree with him. There must’ve been an accident or incident of some sort. That was all Ranta could think. He was getting mad.

“...That loser,” Ranta muttered. “Him and his sleepy eyes. He takes Yume along, and then lets this happen. This is why I can’t trust him. He’s trash.”

“You’re that worried about Yume?” Merry asked.

“O-Of course I am. W-We’re comrades, after all... No other feelings

involved. Not for her and her tiny tits.”

Anyway, they had no choice but to follow the marks left in the trees. It looked like Haruhiro and Yume had gone in a more or less straight direction, so it wasn’t that hard.

It seemed the two of them had been doing a good job scouting. But then something happened.

Thoughts of the worst sort crossed Ranta’s mind. He immediately dismissed them. It wasn’t helpful to think things he couldn’t do anything about.

“I’m an efficient guy,” Ranta said. “The fog. ” Merry suddenly put in.

Ranta noticed it, too. The fog had suddenly begun to clear. He’d only

been able to see five or six meters ahead before, but the area was getting noticeably brighter.

He could see. Ten meters ahead. No, not just that. He could see much farther.

There were large swells in the ground, and the area was thick with trees, so he couldn’t tell what was going on too far away, but that bright white round thing floating in the milky white air... Could that be the sun?

“My eyes hurt.” Ranta smiled wryly as he squinted. He’d been staring at the sun without meaning to.

Merry turned and looked back. “That’s the direction we came. If the sun is there, then...”

“You can’t tell what direction it is just from that. I think we’d have to make a sundial, or something like that. Damn it. If Yume were here, she’d know...” Ranta cocked his head to the side. “Huh?”

“What?”

“No, just now, it seemed like... something moved.” Ranta pointed over to his left. “Over that way. But it doesn’t seem like anything’s there. Am I seeing things?”

“Even if you are, we’d better be on our guards.”

“Yeah.” Ranta licked his lips. She didn’t have to tell him; he already was. However, Ranta wasn’t a chicken like Haruhiro. In a crisis, he showed even greater power than usual. He was a dread knight who thrived in adversity. “If we get into a bit of a pinch, I can get us out easy as pie.”

“Don’t get carried away. If you screw up because you took things too easy, I can’t save you.”

“Fair enough,” Ranta said. “If that happens, forget me and run for it. I won’t hold it against you.”

Merry didn’t say a word. It was hard to decide whether that was endearing or not.

Whatever. For now, they just had to follow the trail. The fog was starting to clear, so it was suddenly a lot easier to walk. Thanks to that, they picked up their pace. They were covering a lot of ground.

“Don’t you think we’re rushing too much?” Merry asked. “Whaaaat? Can’t keep up with my strong legs, Merry-san?” “Whoever said that...?”

“Ha ha ha,” Ranta cackled as he looked back.

Merry was breathing a little heavily. Ranta’s breathing was a bit uneven, too. Was he being hasty? He couldn’t deny it. Ranta came to a halt.

“...Hold on. Is that a cat?” “Huh?” Merry asked.

“That.” Ranta pointed up and to the right. “Over there.”

There was a swell in the ground, and there were trees growing out of it on an angle. A creature was sitting on one of the branches. It was... a cat? It had brownish, striped fur, and its face, or more like its head, was clearly that of a cat. It had a tail, too. The way it sat with its front paws together and its ears at attention was catty, as well, but something was different about it.

“...It’s cute.” When Merry let that slip out, the cat’s ears perked up. The cat quickly turned and was gone.

“Ah...!” Merry reached out in the direction the cat had disappeared off in, but stopped when she noticed Ranta looking at her. “I-It was cute, right? That animal just now. Like a cat.”

“I don’t care if it was cute or not. It was like a cat, but it wasn’t a cat, right?”

“I think so, now that you mention it.... But that’s not that strange, is it? It

just means there’re cute, cat-like creatures living in this area.” “Is it that important that it’s cute?” Ranta asked.

“I-It’s not about it being important, it’s just a matter of fact that it was cute, so I was—” Merry’s face went stiff. Had she found a monster instead of a not-cat this time? No, apparently that wasn’t it. “. It’s not just the one we

saw a moment ago. There’re others, too. Four of them.... There’re lots.”

“Huh?” Ranta looked around, then gulped. “Seriously.. yeah, there are.

Lots.”

Over in the shade was a gray tabby. Up in a tree was a bicolor one with a black and white mask-and-mantle pattern.

There was a pure black one. And a grayish one.

And a dirty white one, too.

Not all of them, but some of the cats had a glint in their eyes, and that was really creepy. The cats—No, they probably weren’t cats. He finally figured it out.

Their heads were a little too big. They had fairly large bodies, but the heads were closer in relative size to what you’d expect on a kitten than what

you’d expect on a full-grown cat. That was probably what made Merry think they were cute.

But their front legs... oh, and their hind ones, too... the toes on their paws weren’t cat toes. They were long, like they could probably grip things with them. Actually, some were doing exactly that and hanging from branches right now.

It wasn’t just two or three. They were all over the place. There were more than fourteen. No, there had been.

They were gone now.

All at once, bam... they were gone. He got goosebumps. “Did that seem natural to you?” Ranta asked.

“I can’t say it did.... Maybe not.”

“I figured.. ”

Ranta was struck by a strange feeling. Or rather, he couldn’t do things the way he wanted to. He was strangely stiff. This had happened before. In Darunggar.

When Haruhiro had been out searching in Waluandin alone, two young orcs had ambushed them. Ranta had been caught by surprise, and he hadn’t been able to move like he wanted to. No, in fact, it’d been worse than that. He’d been struck by sudden indecision, and in the end, everything he’d done was awkward. The result was that Kuzaku had been wounded, and even Yume had gotten hurt.

He didn’t want to admit it, but he knew the reason now. It was because Haruhiro hadn’t been there.

If Ranta was alone, he could handle things and take care of himself somehow. The others were just nice to have around. He wasn’t counting on them. Well, he did more or less have an idea of what each of them would do in certain situations. He did take them into consideration before acting, but he was the main focus, and everyone else was secondary. If that guy was around, things worked best that way. However, if he wasn’t, things were a little different.

For example, right this moment, Ranta was alone with Merry, and Haruhiro wasn’t around. Merry was a priest. Even if she could defend herself, combat wasn’t her specialty. Besides, she was a woman. He had to protect her, and it was hard to fight while doing that. He wouldn’t be able to fight to his full potential, and that might mean he couldn’t defeat an enemy, and

they’d lose.

He might have been better off not thinking about these things, but he couldn’t help it. It wasn’t like him, but Ranta was at a loss for what to do. It was that guy’s fault for not being here.

Damn it, Haruhiro.

“Can’t live with him, can’t live without him...” Ranta drew RIPer. “Merry, get ready for combat. You know, just in case. Be on your guard.”

“You think they’re enemies?” Merry readied her head staff. “The cat-like creatures?”

“Who knows. Here’s hoping they’re...” Ranta shook his head. Why say something so timid? “It’s called not taking chances. I’ll bet you don’t want to be embraced by Skullhell just yet, you blind worshiper of Lumiaris.”

“Don’t let Skullhell trick you into rushing to your death either, okay?” “Nice comeback.” Ranta smirked.

Time to get back on his game. He could just handle it like usual. “Do we continue? Or go back?” Merry asked in a whisper.

Don’t ask me, Ranta nearly said, but he held it in. What? Why am I so irritated?

Would they continue or go back?

He just had to decide already. That was all. Besides, Haruhiro was always making decisions. If Haruhiro could do it, there was no way Ranta couldn’t, too.

Yeah.

Make a decision.

Quickly.

Hurry it up.

Decide right now.

While he was struggling to come to an answer, Merry rushed him. “Hey,” she said. “What are we going to do?”

“Don’t ask me! Use your own head! It’s not like I’m the one who has to make the decision!”

“Don’t shout at me all of a sudden. Okay, I’ll decide, then. Let’s turn back.”

“We’re going back empty handed?! My pride won’t let me—” He let out a hiccup.

He broke into a cold sweat.

He’d heard a voice. Some sort of cry. It wasn’t human or feline, it was like—a dog’s barking? Or maybe a wolf?

Without either signaling the other, Ranta and Merry stood back to back. The fog was getting thicker again.

Where? he thought. Where did it come from?

He heard footsteps.

Inside the mist, this way and that, from every direction, there were blackish forms approaching them.

Yeah, wolves. Black wolves, huh.

Though it was hard to imagine the thing that appeared upwards and to the right of them, where they had first seen the cat-like creature, was a wolf. It looked like a wolf, but it was too large. It was more like a bear. On top of that, there was something riding on its back.

Yellowy green skin. A hideous face. Ranta doubted his eyes. But there was no mistaking it.

“What, a gobliiiinnnnn?” he said.

3.    The Quiet Struggle Between Factions

“...Just now, did you hear something?” Kuzaku was by the exit, at a point where it was hard to say whether he was inside or out, listening closely. “Did I imagine it? No... I’m pretty sure I hear it.”

“Really...?” Shihoru moved over and crouched down next to Kuzaku, turning her right ear towards the outside. “...Oh. You’re right. It’s... the howling of dogs...?”

“If anything, sounds more like wolves to me.” Kuzaku leaned back, keeping as much distance from Shihoru as he could. “Well, it’s a forest, so I guess there being wolves isn’t that strange, but...”

It wasn’t because it was Shihoru; he just didn’t really want to get close to anyone of the opposite sex right now. While he wasn’t like Ranta, Kuzaku was aware that he wasn’t as disinterested as Haruhiro was. It’d be bad if he got into a weird frame of mind, and the girls were all a little unaware and unguarded, so he had to be the one to be careful.

“It does bother me,” Kuzaku said. “You think they’re all right? No, I do think they are, but...”

“It’s tough waiting,” Shihoru agreed.

“Sure is. But that’s what we’ve gotta do. Everyone’s got their own role to play.”

“Yeah,” Shihoru said slowly. “I need to work out more...” “Huh? You, Shihoru? Like, you’re gonna get all beefy?”

“I-I won’t go that far. I have trouble building muscle. I can only put on weight where I don’t need it.”

“No, I don’t think you don’t need—er, not that I mean that in a weird way or anything. I dunno. It’s best to be a healthy weight. Like, I don’t think you need to be overly thin. ...Huh? Am I digging myself a hole here? Erm...

Sorry? I was kind of rude there. Hope I didn’t offend you, did I?”

“It’s okay. No need to walk on eggshells. I may not seem like it, but I’ve got a thick skin,” Shihoru said, hanging her head with a wry smile. “...It comes with being fat.”

A self-deprecating gag? Should he laugh? Or tell her that she was wrong and compliment her? He wasn’t sure which was better. Honestly, Kuzaku had trouble dealing with this side of Shihoru.

“But it’s a pretty long way away, y’know,” Kuzaku said. “To Alterna.

Still, this is Grimgar, not Darunggar, so that’s a step forward at least.” “Um...”

“Yes?”

“That was boring... right? Just now,” Shihoru said. “I’m sorry. I meant it as a joke, but... I can’t come up with anything funny usually...”

Whaaaa. You’re bringing it back up, now? Seriously? Normally you’d just let it go. That was definitely a thing Kuzaku thought, but if she was going to bring it up, he had to rise to the occasion. She wasn’t a total stranger; she was his comrade, after all.

“Yeah,” he said. “It was kind of hard to laugh at. I mean, our bodies can be a pretty delicate subject. Even if it was funny, I’d wonder, like, is it okay for me to laugh? You know? Also, you’re not fat, obviously. Actually, you know, I think we all lost a lot of weight in that other world. It was harsh there...”

“Y-You might be right...” Shihoru looked at Kuzaku with upturned eyes. “Thanks for being straight with me. I’m really grate... glad that you did.

“Oh, you are? Well, good.” Kuzaku was relieved to hear it. “It took some courage to say that. Was worried I’d offend you. But I shouldn’t be so reserved, like you’re a stranger.”

“We’re comrades, right?” Shihoru asked. “We are, yeah.”

“But... you’re still overly polite sometimes?” she ventured.

“That’s, well, mostly force of habit, I guess? You’re all my seniors, so I think that’s part of it.”

“Not that we’re very reliable seniors.”

“That’s not true,” Kuzaku said. “I’m always relying on you guys. It makes me feel like I must’ve had a big brother or big sister. I don’t remember, though. That aspect of my personality, it’s not a good thing. I’m the party’s

tank, after all. Really, I need to get to the point where you can rely on me.” “Well, at the very least, I can say that I rely on you, Kuzaku-kun... I think.

I mean, you’re protecting me.”

“I wish I could cover for you better,” Kuzaku said. “You know, I’m tall, and I’ve got pretty long arms, too. I think, if I handle myself right, I should be able to draw all of the enemies to me. I need to do that, or—”

“No!” Shihoru suddenly grasped at Kuzaku’s arm as if clinging to him. “...You can’t. Kuzaku-kun, don’t stress yourself. It’s not good to take everything on yourself like that.”

“Is that what I’m doing? I don’t think so...”

“You definitely are... I think,” she said. “You were open with me, so I’ll be straight with you, too. Moguzo-kun was always trying too hard, thinking he had to do things... and that’s how he ended up how he did. I think you might be doing a bit of that. He tried too hard for the rest of us, who were underdeveloped. We made him push himself. I don’t want you to repeat that, Kuzaku-kun. I won’t let you. We can’t have someone wearing themselves down for the rest of us. One person can’t sacrifice themselves for the rest of us, all of us have to work to make up for the others’ shortcomings. That’s what I think.”

“...Ohhhh,” said Kuzaku. “That... makes sense. I mean, I don’t mean to seem like I’m in a rush. I feel like I’m behind the rest of you. Well, I’m chasing after all of you—” Kuzaku started to say, and then realized what he was saying. “...Ha ha. You’re right, I may be rushing things. But it sure is tough, isn’t it? I can’t help but get ahead of myself, you could say. I mean, Haruhiro, he’s amazing. He’s very detached, but in a good way. He’s calm.”

“Haruhiro-kun... I think, in his mind, there’s a lot going on,” said Shihoru. “He just doesn’t talk about it. Because he’s the leader... I think he can’t talk about it. If the leader was worried, and indecisive, everyone would feel uneasy. I’m sure that’s what he’s thinking.”

“You think he’s pushing himself too hard?” Kuzaku asked.

“...I don’t think it’s easy on him. But there’s not much we can do about it... Haruhiro was forced to become the leader because the rest of us are unreliable. It’s not that we pushed it off onto him... but he’s not the type who would normally volunteer for that sort of position...”

“Well... yeah,” Kuzaku said. “Haruhiro, he hates standing out. He’s not really the leader type, I guess. I like his style, though. Easier to deal with than

someone who’s like, ‘Shut up and follow me.’” “I like his style, too.” Shihoru smiled a bit.

Oh, she’s cute, Kuzaku thought, and then immediately felt guilty about it. “It’s just...” Shihoru looked down. “I think we’re causing a lot of trouble

for him. No matter how you look at it, it’s a job that hurts him... I wish I could at least do something to help, but I don’t know how...”

“Something to help, huh,” Kuzaku said. “I’m not really the type for it... but, I mean, neither is Haruhiro, and he’s trying his hardest. For all of us.”

“If only there were some small thing we could do to take some of the burden off of him...” Shihoru said.

Kuzaku crossed his arms and looked upwards, closing his eyes. This seemed like something he really ought to think about. Or rather, he wanted to give it some serious thought. Even if he didn’t have an immediate flash of inspiration, if he kept it in mind, he might come up with something eventually.

“Still, it’s good for you to agonize over these things. Especially while you’re young. Having more than enough time to agonize over these things is one of the privileges of youth.”

“Oh, you think?” Kuzaku said. “Makes sense...” “...Huh?” Shihoru gulped.

“Wait, what?” Kuzaku’s eyes went wide. “Hm?”

There’s someone here...? thought Kuzaku.

It was obviously someone other than Kuzaku and Shihoru. Furthermore, that person wasn’t Haruhiro, or Yume, or Ranta, or Merry.

That man was crouched just outside the exit Kuzaku and Shihoru were standing by, hugging his sheathed sword. He was wearing glasses, or goggles rather, so it was hard to tell what his face was like. His hair was parted in the center, and his face was covered in stubble. He didn’t look all that young.

Kuzaku figured he was probably human, but he wore a somewhat longish coat that was tied up at the waist, along with a pair of something like riding pants, so he looked quite different from the people who lived in Alterna.

“Oh, pardon me.” The man wearing goggles raised one hand and grinned. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but you folks hadn’t noticed me. I thought it would be wrong of me to just keep quiet, so I took it upon myself to subtly insert myself into your little conversation.”

“No...” Kuzaku hurriedly had Shihoru get behind him, putting his hand on the hilt of his black blade. “That wasn’t subtle at all, you know? Clearly. I don’t even know who you are.”

“Indeed. You speak the truth.” The man wearing goggles scratched his head and frowned. “Then allow me to say this, if I meant to do you harm, I would have already done so. I don’t mean to mock you, but you were wide open. Even with my paltry skills, I could have easily dispatched you.”

Kuzaku had to acknowledge he was right. He had been absorbed in their conversation, and hadn’t been paying enough attention. He was supposed to be here as Shihoru’s bodyguard, too. How pathetic.

Even so, if they were to fight straight up, it was questionable whether he could win against this man. Kuzaku still hadn’t drawn his sword. He couldn’t. All reasoning aside, he could sense it. If he drew his weapon, he’d be in serious trouble.

“We’re volunteer soldiers from Alterna,” Kuzaku said. “Does that mean anything to you? As an explanation?”

“Indeed,” said the man. “You are volunteer soldiers with the Arabakia Frontier Army, yes? I know them. I have acquaintances who are volunteer soldiers, too.”

“I’m Kuzaku,” Kuzaku said. Shihoru followed suit, saying, “I’m Shihoru...” in a quiet voice.

“I’m Katsuharu.” The man raised his goggles up to his forehead, squinting. “If I say I’m from the village, would you understand what I mean? We simply call it ‘the village,’ but outsiders refer to it as the Hidden Village.”

“...The Hidden Village,” Shihoru whispered. It seemed like she had some idea what he meant.

Kuzaku felt like he might have heard of it, or might not have, he wasn’t really sure, but he could tell that it was a place where humans like Katsuharu lived, at least.

Which meant what?

“Huh? What’s that mean?” Kuzaku cocked his head to the side. “I don’t really get it...”

“It means we’re not enemies,” said Shihoru. “The Kingdom of Arabakia, which Alterna belongs to, and the Hidden Village aren’t hostile to one another,” Shihoru explained in a whisper. “Though we aren’t exactly friendly with them, either... You might guess it from the name, but we don’t know exactly where the Hidden Village is...”

“So that’s why it’s a hidden village?” Kuzaku asked. “Huh... So, Katsuharu-san is from there, and... what does that mean? Uh...”

“You two are so easygoing. That’s nice.” Katsuharu sat down on the ground and rubbed his nose. He’d said Kuzaku and Shihoru were easygoing, but he was projecting a pretty easygoing atmosphere himself. Then again, it still felt like he might draw his weapon at any moment. He was a mysterious man. “That said, I do find it a little odd coming across two volunteer soldiers in a place like this. Could it be that the two of you just returned from the world that lies beyond that hole?”

“...You know about Darunggar?” Shihoru asked hesitantly.

“The name Darunggar isn’t familiar to me,” said Katsuharu. “However, some in the village are aware that that hole leads to another world. This place, Thousand Valley, is like our backyard, you see.”

“Thousand Valley...” Kuzaku looked out into the fog hanging over the area. He had a sudden realization. “Wait, if this is your backyard, you know the paths here? Right? The way to Alterna, too?”

“Indeed. I have made a number of trips to Alterna myself, after all.” “Then you could show us the way!” Kuzaku cried. “Oh, no, I know I

shouldn’t be asking you for a favor out of nowhere. You have no obligation to help us.”

“As you say, I have no obligation to,” Katsuharu said. “Not now, at least.

We’ve just met, after all. However, I sense a certain kismet in our meeting here, and once we come to know one another better, I might feel obliged to.”

“By which you mean...?” Kuzaku asked.

“Perhaps I was too indirect.” Katsuharu hit himself in the head. “The truth is, I happen to be searching for someone. Could you help me, perhaps? When my business is finished, I’ll show you to the village. You must be exhausted from your travels, no? Why not rest at the village?”

“...I think he’s a little suspicious,” Shihoru whispered in Kuzaku’s ear. “Isn’t he being a little too generous when he doesn’t owe us anything?

Besides, if he shows us the way there, we’d find out where the village is...”

“I can hear you.” Katsuharu pulled on his earlobe and smiled wryly at them. “I’ve got a good pair of ears on me, you see. Well, I suppose your caution is warranted. However, you’ve misunderstood one thing.”

Could they trust him? Kuzaku couldn’t decide.

“...What are we misunderstanding?” he asked cautiously.

“It’s outsiders that call it the Hidden Village, not us. I told you that, didn’t I? We relocate the village every year, sometimes more than once in the same year. Most of the villages are, well, not accepting of outsiders, you could say, but it’s not as if the gates are closed to strangers. As a matter of fact, you people must have heard of the volunteer soldier called Soma, right? He was recognized as a samurai by the four samurai houses.”

“Yeah...” said Kuzaku. “We’re technically Soma-san’s comrades...? Well, we’re in the same clan.”

“Oh, are you indeed? Then you must be highly capable.”

Kuzaku and Shihoru looked at one another despite themselves. How should they respond to that?

While Kuzaku was still confused about what to do, Shihoru spoke up. “If only that were true. We still have a long way to go.”

“How very humble of you to say that.” Katsuharu was grinning.

Somehow, he had completely seen through their skill level, and he was teasing them based on that knowledge. That was what it felt like. But it didn’t come across as nasty, and they really were inexperienced, so Kuzaku couldn’t get mad at him for it. Kuzaku consulted with Shihoru in a whisper, knowing full well that Katsuharu would overhear, then decided to fill him in on their situation.

“Katsuharu-san, we’ve got other people with us, too,” Kuzaku said. “Four of them. Two left scouting earlier, and the other two went out looking for them when they didn’t come back. So, we were left here waiting.”

“In that case...” Katsuharu’s expression clouded slightly. “It may be that your friends have already gotten caught up in things.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Kuzaku asked.

“Where do I even begin? To make it simple, there are troubles going on. My adorable niece has been caught up in it, so I can’t ignore it. She would be the one I’m looking for. Ahhh, this is such a hassle.” Katsuharu lowered his goggles, fixed their position, and then stood up. “You two come with me. I’ll explain more along the way. Or would you rather stay and wait for your

companions? Either way, I’ll be going.”

“...Maybe we should go with him,” Shihoru said.

If she said so—well, it was really that Kuzaku couldn’t make a decision, so he couldn’t possibly object.

Katsuharu led the way, of course, with Shihoru and Kuzaku behind him as they advanced through the fog. It was strangely easy to walk. Katsuharu seemed to be choosing the spots with the best footing. He’d said this was his backyard, and it was clear he hadn’t just been saying that.

“Um, Katsuharu-san,” Kuzaku said. “Now that I think of it, I heard what sounded like wolves howling.”

“Forgan’s beasts, no doubt.” Katsuharu wasn’t looking around. He just walked in a single direction.

“Are they bad news?” Kuzaku asked.

“There’s this guy called Jumbo, you see,” Katsuharu said. “Forgan is the faction he leads.”

“Huh? What do a faction of orcs and those beasts have to do with one another?” Kuzaku asked.

“Keep your voice down.” Katsuharu crouched and put his hand on the hilt of his sword.

Shihoru ducked her head and held her breath. It looked like Kuzaku would be best advised to ready himself and stay put, too.

For the next two, three minutes, he stayed there and didn’t move a muscle. It got harder and harder. But, in Kuzaku’s case, if he moved about carelessly, his equipment was guaranteed to make noise. Until he was told it was okay, he’d have to put up with it.

Still, can we go yet? he wondered.

Instead of thinking things like that, he should have been scanning the area, and thinking about what he’d do if something happened, as well as about what he should be doing.

I’m taking this too lightly. I need to reflect on that. If I keep on going like this, I’ll never catch up to Haruhiro and the others. But I can’t see anything through the fog, I don’t really hear anything, and if enemies attack then protecting Shihoru is about all I can do, so... can we go yet?

“There was a nyaa,” Katsuharu said in a low voice. “...A nyaa?” Shihoru asked.

“Yeah. Have you people never heard of them? They’re animals. A wild

nyaa hardly ever shows itself to people. The village’s onmitsu spies raise them, but that wasn’t what that one was. That was likely one of Forgan’s trained nyaas.”

The more he listened, the funnier the word sounded. Nyaa. It was just too cute. Like, a pet nyaa. No, this was no time for laughing. It was probably a serious matter. Kuzaku cleared his throat.

“But I don’t see anything that looks like that, and I don’t sense it, either,” he said.

“It was faint, but I heard a slight meowing earlier,” Katsuharu told them. “It went nyaa. It’s gone now. It doesn’t seem to have noticed us. Let’s hurry onward.”

If Katsuharu says so, that’s probably how it is, thought Kuzaku. It really is relaxing to just do as someone tells you. Obviously, it’s easier, too. Having to think for yourself, that’s hard. Haruhiro is amazing, seriously.

Honestly, by the time he noticed he was doing whatever Katsuhiro told him, he was a little exasperated with himself for getting used to that situation so quickly.

“It’s like I’m a dog,” Kuzaku murmured.

“True.” Shihoru who was ahead of him giggled. “You do have a dog-like quality, Kuzaku-kun.”

“Oh, you heard that? Huh. Am I really that dog-like? Hrmm. Well, I’m not cat-like, I guess. Are you more of a dog person or a cat person, Shihoru- san?”

“...I prefer dogs, I guess.” “Oh? Really?”

“Huh...? Oh, i-it’s not anything to do with you being dog-like...”

“Nah, I’m not going to misunderstand you like that, don’t worry,” Kuzaku told her. “I’ll bet you don’t even look at me as a man. I mean, I’m pretty sure all the girls in our group are that way...”

“...I wouldn’t say that,” Shihoru said.

“Nah, I’m sure of it. Like, considering how things went... No, no, I shouldn’t talk like this.”

“How what went...? Now you’ve got me curious.”

“Yeah, I guess you would be,” Kuzaku said. “If I say this much, then try to keep it a secret, would you? You would, right? ...Well, you know how it is. I mean... I confessed to Merry, and got shot down hard.”

“I thought so,” Shihoru said. “Urgh. You’d noticed...?” “Just vaguely, though.”

“Well, that’s embarrassing. But facts are facts, so what can you do? In the end, we decided to stay just comrades.”

“It’s tough, huh.” Shihoru nodded. “Knowing how close you can get to people. Merry’s the serious sort, and very well-organized, after all.”

“I’m over it now, though. I’m trying to put it behind me. But I’m worried about Merry. I mean, the one with her is Ranta-kun...”

“When I hear the two of you talk,” Katsuharu said, laughing and pretending to scratch himself all over, “it makes me feel ticklish.”

“S-Sorry...” Shihoru’s head shrunk into her body.

“It’s nothing to apologize for,” Katsuharu said. “I was like that, too, back in the day. It was a long time ago, but this brings the memories flooding back. That aside...”

Katsuharu came to a halt. He crouched, touching the ground.

“Looks like something happened here. These footprints are likely human.

From two, maybe three people.... Two, I’d say. These two people were

probably surrounded by a pack of wolves, and then.. there are no signs of a

struggle. The two walked off on their own after that. They headed towards the southwest. Hopefully we can follow the trail....... ”

4.    Hard Work

The path ahead of them dipped lower, and the fog swirled around them.

The sounds of fighting are coming from over there, thought Haruhiro. Moyugi was leading the group, pressing through the fog with his demon

Moira in tow.

“Huwuh?!” Yume let out a strange cry. “Where’d Kuroron go?!”

Haruhiro was taken aback. Kuro was gone. He’d vanished. He’d been right in front of them just a moment ago.

Haruhiro was surprised by that, but if they didn’t hurry and catch up to Moyugi and Moira, they were going to be left behind. If he was stuck alone with Yume in the middle of who-knew-where, that would be the worst.

He and Yume picked up the pace. For now, they were somehow managing to keep Moyugi in sight. But it also felt like they were getting themselves in deeper and deeper, maybe? Shihoru and the others must be getting worried.

And Ranta... he just hoped Ranta wouldn’t do anything stupid.

Damn it.

He’d just firmed up his resolve to be leader, and was doing his best to be careful, and then he’d made an awful mistake like this. Nothing ever went his way. It made him really, really resent how mediocre he was.

All that aside—they’re here. Going at it. It’s a battle. They’re fighting.

Haruhiro could hear the sound of a man’s husky voice cutting through the fog. It was human. There were a number of other voices, too.

Moyugi came to a stop. Moira went alone into the fog, vanishing out of sight. Haruhiro and Yume caught up to Moyugi, then stopped.

If he squinted, just vaguely, Haruhiro could make out a humanoid figure.

The figure was swinging around a fairly large sword. He was likely the owner of the husky voice. Was the group that kept attacking him made up of

orcs? Or were they some other race? Haruhiro couldn’t tell that much, but it was one against many.

Despite his obvious numerical disadvantage, the man with the husky voice didn’t take so much as a single step back. That said, it was clear he was fighting alone.

“Um, Moyugi-san?” Haruhiro asked hesitantly. “That guy’s human, right?

Don’t we have to help him...?”

“If it were necessary, I would, of course. That goes without saying. What are you, some kind of idiot?”

“I was just asking. No need to bite my head off...”

“It’s fine to ask questions, but think for yourself first,” Moyugi snapped. “To put it simply, you look up to me as some sort of superior, and you were looking for me to give you orders, right? In other words, you’re an idiot.

They say an idiot is what you make of him, and, it goes without saying, I could make good use of you. What do you say to that, Haruhiro-kun the idiot?”

“...I’ll think before asking from now on.”

“Please do. I hate having my thinking process disrupted by questions from idiots, you see.”

“Moyugin’s a real bully.” Yume puffed up her cheeks in anger, but Moyugi just smiled faintly as if it didn’t matter to him. Well, Moyugi had made a fair argument, and he’d been right on the mark. Moyugi had been in this line of business longer than them. Without a doubt, he was more skilled, too. It would be hard to find anything they were better than him at. That was why Moyugi was way above Haruhiro, and that was why Haruhiro had decided to do as he said. He’d naturally accepted that relationship.

Moyugi, with his sharp tongue, had questioned that. Are you okay with that? he was asking.

Moyugi had clearly stated that if Haruhiro and Yume acted like loyal little dogs who would just wag their tails and follow him, he’d be happy to use them as decoys or disposable pawns, but he wouldn’t treat them any better than that. They were all members of the Day Breakers, but so what? If they thought that made them his comrades, they were massively wrong, and a massive nuisance to boot. They needed to do something to make him acknowledge them—that was what he was saying.

It’d been harshly worded, but he was being pretty considerate. Or at least,

that was what Haruhiro decided to think. Haruhiro wasn’t earnest enough that he could get all worked up and think, Fine, I’ll make you acknowledge me, but he couldn’t let himself be used as a decoy or pawn.

For now, even if they couldn’t stand shoulder to shoulder with Moyugi and Kuro, they could still reflect on things that needed reflecting on. They could learn what needed learning. They could work on the things they needed to improve. They could, little by little, narrow the distance, the gap, between them.

Is that too much for us? he wondered. Well, even if it’s difficult to accomplish, we can make the attempt.

Think. Think hard. No, just thinking isn’t enough. Or rather, I need material to work with before I can think. I need information. Look for it with my eyes, hear it with my ears. Sense it with my skin.

What’s going on here? What are Moyugi and the others doing? Fighting enemies. What kind of enemies? There were orcs. But it’s probably more than just orcs. What about those enemies the guy with the husky voice is fighting? Are they just orcs? Or are there other races, too? I want to know. I need to learn more.

“Mind if I move up a little more?” Haruhiro began. “No, actually, I’m moving up.”

Without waiting for a response, Haruhiro walked ahead of Moyugi. Yume came with him.

He could see it now. The man had an incredibly large sword with an unusual shape, and he was swinging it around left and right.

What a sword, thought Haruhiro. I’ve never seen anything like it.

Each sword had a center of gravity. That was the point where, if the sword was held and it was allowed to balance itself like a scale, the weight on both sides would be equal. Generally, if it wasn’t somewhere from ten to twenty five or so centimeters from the point where the blade met the hilt, the sword became incredibly unwieldy. Unusable, even. And yet.

And yet, the man’s sword had to be more than a meter and a half long, which on its own was already enough to make it oversized. And the tip was broad, too. It had a shape that might be described as looking like a thin slice of a giant mushroom. With a shape like that, the center of gravity had to be incredibly close to the tip. As a result, his swings were slower.

Because he was forced to use big, slow swings, he left a lot of openings.

The man resolved that issue by using something other than his sword.

His feet.

When an enemy got close to him, the man would let loose a kick. Those kicks had an incredible amount of force behind them. After all, the man was built as strong as an orc, maybe stronger.

If Haruhiro took a kick from one of those log-like legs, he’d probably never get back up. And it went without saying that, even if he tried to defend himself with a shield or armor, he wouldn’t be able to stand up against the man’s massive mushroom sword. If he tried to get in close, he’d be kicked, if he didn’t, he’d be bisected by that massive mushroom sword. If he found himself facing that man as an enemy, what would he do?

Haruhiro had only one answer. Run. What else?

The guy was terrifying even just to look at. He wore no helmet, showing off his bald head, and while the mustache might have been okay, why was he wearing sunglasses? He was nothing if not intimidating. No matter how you looked at it, this guy was crazy.

He shouted and swung his massive mushroom sword, turning an enemy into a corpse. He shouted three more times, and with each swing, there was another corpse. One enemy tried to charge him as he finished a swing, but he kicked them back, and then, with another shout, immediately bisected them.

The corpses were piling up as Haruhiro watched. Okay, that might have been overstating it, but the man’s massive mushroom sword, the dynamic sword techniques, and the kicks that were quite agile for a man of his build all made Haruhiro want to describe it that way.

To add one more thing, this man used the fog to his advantage, too. For him, anyone who tried to get close to him was an enemy, but his enemies couldn’t say the same thing. With visibility as bad as it was, it would be hard for the enemy to surround him with ten to twenty men on each side, pressing inwards.

Haruhiro could see now why Moyugi didn’t try to join the fray. If he carelessly approached and tried to lend a hand, he might only succeed in disturbing the man. That being the case, couldn’t they just support him from a distance?

By no means was that something Haruhiro was actually thinking of doing. But then he carelessly got himself noticed by the enemy. That was it.

“Yume!” Haruhiro readied his stiletto and the knife with the hand guard. The enemies were closer than he had thought.

Incoming. Green skins. Orcs. Two of them. One with blue hair, the other red. Wearing metal armor. Their swords are probably single-edged. They’re curved. Katanas, maybe?

If they came at him together, he and Yume probably wouldn’t be able to hold out, not even for a little while. First, they had to split up the orcs, Haruhiro and Yume each taking one.

Haruhiro charged at the blue-haired orc, showering it with a series of blows from his two blades. Both his slashes and thrusts were focused on speed. Even if they hit, they wouldn’t be able to do much damage. Even so, he managed to take some of the wind out of the orc’s sails.

He could hear Yume shouting as she used her machete to trade blows with the red-haired orc, too. While Haruhiro had the blue-haired orc on the defensive, he adjusted his position so that his back was facing Yume’s. This way, even if new enemies came, they could at least avoid being attacked from behind.

Moyugi, Moira, Kuro, anyone, could you come save us, please? he thought desperately.

Don’t get your hopes up, he warned himself. If he couldn’t handle this by himself, how could he do anything?

In fact, it was because he had tried to rely on others that, the moment the blue-haired orc went on the offensive, he tried to pull back.

“Ah...!” Haruhiro shouted.

Whoa! Damn! He’s fast!

As the blue-haired orc took a savage swing at his throat, Haruhiro used the knife in his left hand to Swat it. With an immediate twist of his wrist, the orc swung downwards at him from above his head. The knife in Haruhiro’s left hand wouldn’t make it in time. He used Swat with the stiletto in his right. He couldn’t fully deflect it.

The blue-haired orc stabbed at him. It looked like he’d be overpowered if he used his left, so Haruhiro used the stiletto in his right to Swat, Swat, Swat.

He’s strong, this orc.

It was only to be expected that each blow would be heavy, but the orc’s blows were skillful, too. The orc didn’t rely on power alone; his technique was precise and accurate. If Haruhiro described it as being like fighting a

human, was that taking orcs too lightly? Still, that was how Haruhiro felt. This guy looked different, but he was human.

Human...?

No, he wasn’t. Not only was his body larger than a human’s, he had greater strength. If he was smarter and more dexterous on top of that, that would mean, on the whole, he was greater than a human.

While cautiously using Swat to deflect the blue-haired orc’s katana, Haruhiro shuddered. He might have been misunderstanding something all this time.

The No-Life King had appeared around a century and a half ago, giving birth to the undead, and unifying the orcs, kobolds, goblins, and others into a single faction. They had destroyed the human kingdoms of Nananka and Ishmal, and forced the Kingdom of Arabakia to retreat south of the Tenryu Mountain Range. As a result of that, the orcs and undead were now both powerful factions on the frontier of Grimgar.

That just showed how incredible the No-Life King had been. Somehow, that was what Haruhiro had ended up thinking.

Orcs were clever, and stronger than humans, and that was why they were in a better position than humans on the frontier. Had Haruhiro even once considered that possibility?

To be frank, no, he hadn’t.

Maybe Haruhiro hadn’t known what the orcs were truly like.

“Yume!” Haruhiro narrowly managed to Swat the blue-haired orc’s next attack, a two-strike combo consisting of a horizontal attack chained to a low one, then glanced over to Yume. He only saw her for a brief moment, but it was clear she was struggling.

We can’t hold out, he realized. Not like this.

The way things were going, Haruhiro and Yume would both go down sooner or later.

It was a fresh and clear reminder of how much more powerful Moyugi and his group were. Things were clearly hopeless, and they couldn’t win anyway, so should he just give up? No, that wasn’t an option. Clever. He had to get clever. Haruhiro might not have realized what a real orc was like, but their enemies didn’t know a thing about them, either.

“Two, one...!” he called.

“Meow!” Yume quickly turned. At the same time, Haruhiro did an about-

face.

They switched.

The blue-haired orc had been getting used to Haruhiro’s fighting style, and the red-haired orc had probably been getting a handle on how Yume moved. If their opponents suddenly changed, that would confuse anyone. Human or orc, it made no difference.

Haruhiro pressed the attack now. Naturally, he didn’t understand his opponent, so it was risky. Still, the way things had been going, there had been little chance of them winning, so he would have to take the chance and attack.

Haruhiro committed to it, getting in close to the red-haired orc. He used Slap and Shatter, and made it look like he was trying to use Hitter, but then used Cut, and another Shatter. The blows were all shallow, but the red-haired orc was bewildered by his combo.

Now, thought Haruhiro.

He slipped past the orc, getting behind him. He performed a Backstab with his stiletto.

It wasn’t just one shot. It was two, then three. He pierced the armor, but it wasn’t a fatal strike.

The red-haired orc turned to face him.

Circling around to get behind the orc again, Haruhiro performed another triple Backstab combo.

The red-haired orc staggered, but with a cry of “Orrrsh!” it managed to stay on his feet.

Having anticipated this, Haruhiro immediately grappled him from behind.

The red-haired orc was wearing a helmet. However, there were large openings for the eyes and mouth, and the orc’s red hair was sticking out from inside it.

Haruhiro rammed his knife with the hand guard into the mouth hole, then stabbed his stiletto into the orc’s right eyeball. He pulled both free in an instant, leaping away.

The red-haired orc groaned, putting one knee on the ground, but it didn’t fall yet.

Just how tough is this guy? Haruhiro wondered. Even if he’s dying, there’s no telling what he might do up until he’s completely dead. I have to think that way. Harden my heart.

Haruhiro kicked the red-haired orc down, and then immediately twisted his stiletto into the orc’s right eye.

“Sorry about this!” he shouted.

Die. Die. Die. Die. Please, die.

Leaving the now-motionless red-haired orc lying where he was, Haruhiro looked over at Yume. She was using Wan-chan to deflect the blue-haired orc’s sword, but he could see that she was clearly tired. He wanted to get in there and help immediately—

But don’t rush, he cautioned himself. Haruhiro had his own way of doing things.

First he had to relax his breathing, get it under control, release the excess tension from his body, and erase his presence. He couldn’t make the fog go away, but he could clear his mind.

His field of vision quickly broadened. He could see. He could hear. He could feel. His mind was set loose from his flesh, and it felt like he was looking down on the area, himself included, at an angle. He felt like this was a little different from the Stealth skill that Barbara-sensei had taught him, but Haruhiro was at his best like this.

Moyugi hadn’t moved a step from where he had been before, and was standing there, as if he were saying, Show me what you’ve got. Haruhiro had expected that, so it didn’t piss him off. He wouldn’t be able to make that man let out an admiring groan, but he’d do what he could.

Moving calmly, like he was one with the fog, Haruhiro circled around behind the blue-haired orc that Yume was trading blows with. Not only had the blue-haired orc not noticed him, Yume hadn’t detected Haruhiro moving, either.

He couldn’t see that line, but he moved without the slightest bit of indecision. Sheathing his knife, he went for a Backstab with his stiletto. It went in deep, and, for an instant, the blue-haired orc stopped.

Without missing a beat, Haruhiro used Arrest. He grabbed the blue-haired orc’s left arm. Caught by surprise, and with Haruhiro having such a firm grip on his elbow, the size difference between them meant little. It was easy to throw him off balance and trip him. Haruhiro stabbed his stiletto into the fallen orc’s right eye.

“Meow!” Yume jumped in, slamming her curved blade into the orc’s right wrist. Though she didn’t manage to cut off his hand, the sword it was holding

did go flying.

It was probably at that moment that the blue-haired orc thought, I’m finished. His despair was palpable. Even so, the blue-haired orc worked up the will to try and rise once more.

I won’t let you, thought Haruhiro.

He straddled the orc, pulled his stiletto free, and stabbed it back in. Pulled it free and stabbed it back in. He cut up the blue-haired orc’s face.

The stiletto was a weapon that specialized in stabbing, so its penetrative power and ability to inflict lethal wounds was frightening. It didn’t take long for the blue-haired orc to die.

How do you like that? Haruhiro thought. It wasn’t something he was going to say, but he turned to look at Moyugi. He’s not even there.

With a series of shouts and grunts, the bald man wearing sunglasses was still at it, the same as before, slashing at enemies with his massive mushroom sword, intimidating them into backing away, and knocking them back with kicks.

The orc that had been kicked to the ground by the sunglasses-wearing bald man tried to get up—and couldn’t. Before he was able to, Moyugi, who had moved over there at some point, thrust his thin sword through the back of the orc’s neck.

“Now, then.” Pulling his sword free, Moyugi adjusted the position of his glasses by using the middle finger of his left hand. “I’d say it’s about time. We’ll finish this by the time I count to eight. One...”

There was a visible shift in the tide of the battle. The enemies that had, until now, been focusing on the sunglasses-wearing bald man decided to spread out. Maybe half of the enemy had changed their target to Moyugi.

Soon, one of them went down.

An arrow, huh?

That had to be Kuro’s doing. But another enemy sprang at Moyugi.

He didn’t dodge. Instead, he said, “Two,” still adjusting his glasses and counting.

What does that guy think he’s doing? Isn’t that dangerous?

As if she was doing it to show that wasn’t the case at all, Moira emerged from the fog, and with a cry of “Noooooo,” she dragged down the enemy that was about to take a swing at Moyugi. At almost exactly the same time, another enemy collapsed, having been struck by two arrows in quick

succession.

While counting “Three,” Moyugi crossed blades with yet another enemy, this one a white-haired orc. In that moment, Moyugi glanced at Haruhiro.

What? he thought, startled. In the end, you’re using us after all, huh?

Well, not that I mind.

Haruhiro swam through the fog using Stealth. When he got behind the white-haired orc, Moyugi counted “Four,” then turned to the left as if he had lost interest in his opponent, walking off like he was taking a casual stroll.

The white-haired orc was caught by surprise, probably enraged, and tried to attack Moyugi.

His back was wide open. Well, there was only one thing to do about that.

With a disinterested glance at Haruhiro, who had gone in for a Spider and was trying hard to finish off the white-haired orc, Moyugi was leisurely going about and running through the other enemies.

“Five, six.”

Seriously, what was with that guy?

The number of enemies was quickly dropping.

Hidden in the fog, Kuro shot them to death. Moira used Moyugi as bait to attack the enemy. Moyugi was casually stabbing them to death. It went without saying that the sunglasses-wearing bald man was still striking down enemies with his massive mushroom sword, too.

How they were killing enemies, that was something even Haruhiro could tell. But wasn’t it weird for things to be going this smoothly? He felt like he was being shown a magic trick.

“Seven.” Moyugi backed away, looking like he might trip at any moment.

That one wasn’t an orc; a four-armed humanoid enemy was charging at Moyugi.

An arrow stabbed into his right flank, and then Moira tackled him from the opposite side with a “Nooooooo!”

Moira got on top of the enemy.

“Noooooo... Noooooooo... Noooooooooooooooooooooo...!”

With a glance to Moria, who was murdering her enemy in an unspeakable manner, Moyugi returned his thin sword to its sheathe with an elegant gesture. “Eight. Done. Just like I calculated.”

“Whoo...” Yume looked around the area. Haruhiro could only sigh. He shook his head.

The orcs were gone. There had been so many of them, too. But, at least as far as he could see, not one of them was left standing.

It really had ended by the time Moyugi had counted to eight.

Well, since Moyugi had been doing the counting himself, and he’d been able to adjust the length of time as needed, it didn’t seem entirely fair, but still.

“Hrmm...” The bald man wearing sunglasses let out a low groan, stabbed his massive mushroom sword into the ground, and then twisted his head side to side slowly. “Indeed.”

“Good work.” Kuro appeared out of nowhere, slapping the sunglasses- wearing bald man on the shoulder. “Kajita.”

The sunglasses-wearing bald man he called Kajita smiled and gave him a thumbs-up.

Moira slowly rose up. Her four-armed enemy didn’t so much as twitch. Or rather, it was an unrecognizable mess. Enemy or not, had she really had to mutilate the body that badly?

Or was that just how demons were? Would Ranta’s Zodiac-kun act like that eventually?

Haruhiro grimaced at that unpleasant thought.

“Um...” Haruhiro shook his head. “This—I don’t know what it’s called, the four-armed enemy... what is it?”

“What? You don’t know?” Kuro said with an exaggerated look of exasperation. “It’s an undead, of course. The ones with four arms are called double arms. Or rather, that’s what they call themselves.”

“This is an undead...” Haruhiro rubbed his throat.

The one Moira had killed was destroyed beyond recognition, so he looked through the other bodies to find one, and—there it was. Here, there, everywhere, all of the non-orcs must have been undead.

The undead weren’t unlike humans. They were more or less humanoid, but the ones called double arms had four arms, and there were others that had two arms that were oddly long, or they had extremely long torsos with short legs, or really big butts, or strangely large heads. Also, they had very little exposed skin. Their bodies were covered in cloth, leather, or metal, and the rare bits of flesh that peaked through were horribly blackened, or brown, or grey, or pale blue.

Another difference between them and the orcs was that there was no blood flowing from their wounds. Instead, an unsettling green mucus seemed to be leaking out.

“Huh...” Yume hesitantly walked over and crouched next to the undead’s corpse. “Listen, Yume, she’s got this one thing she’s been wonderin’ about for a while now.”

“Sure.” Kuro walked over and crouched down next to Yume. “Ask away.

Though, if I don’t know the answer, all I can do is lie to you.”

“If you’re gonna lie, tell Yume it’s a lie, okay, so she doesn’t go believin’ you, okay?”

“Wah ha ha!” Kuro laughed. “Sure, sure. You’ve got it. I’ll do that.” “Listen, undead, they’re dead that un, right?”

“Huh? What, what? Dead that un? What’s that supposed to mean?” “Like, they’re dead that are un, right? Un is un! Right?”

“Wah ha ha!” Kuro cackled. “That’s a funny joke, but I have no idea what you mean, okay? You know what, you’re cute. Like some kind of animal.”

“Murrgh! Yume, she’s an animal, but she’s human, okay! Oh, but humans’re animals, too.”

“Ha ha! What are you, the pet every family wants? Wahahahaha!” Kuro hugged Yume’s head close to him and patted it like crazy. “Hey, Moyugi, Kajita, can I keep her?”

“When it comes time to feed her, be sure you do it yourself.” Moyugi’s eyes had a creepy glint in them.

Kajita grinned and gave him a thumbs-up. “Indeed.”

“Basically...” Since this was going nowhere, Haruhiro did his best to interpret for her. “...with ‘dead’ referring to death, and ‘un-’being a negating prefix, I think she wants to say, aren’t undead not supposed to die?”

“Haru-kun, that’s it!” Yume brushed Kuro’s hand away. “Geez! Now you’ve gone and fussed Yume’s hair up!”

“...Yume, I don’t think fussed is the word you’re looking for...” “Hoh? Tussed? Hussed? Oh, Yume doesn’t know anymore.”

“Heh heh heh...” Kuro was doubled over, holding his sides. “Oh, damn.

My sides. You’re killing me here, seriously. Okay, okay. I get what you meant. I see. Sure. You’re right. If you write it out in kanji, they’re the ‘without death race,’ but these guys, they die pretty easily.”

Kanji? Haruhiro thought, startled. Oh, right, kanji. If you write it in kanji

—Wait, huh...?

I know what kanji are. They’re written characters. They’re used here in Grimgar, too. But there’s something... Yeah, that’s right. Kanji?

I don’t think anyone calls them kanji, do they?

They’re one type of written character, and I’ve only heard them called ideographs. They might have a name, but I’ve never heard it. Even though they’re definitely kanji.

“What’s wrong, junior?” Kuro asked him.

When Haruhiro looked up, he saw Kuro had a stupid grin on his face, but there was a sharp glint in his eye.

“Is something bothering you? Speak up.” “...No.” Haruhiro shook his head. “It’s nothing.”

“Oh, yeah?” Kuro took a short breath, then gestured towards the dead undead bodies with his chin. “Well, whatever. So, back to the undead.

They’ve got this thing called a core, and it’s thought that they’ll die if you bust it. The core is usually inside the head, so as long as they’re intact from the neck up, they’ll round up enough dead body parts to revive themselves. Weird, huh?”

“It’s only speculated?” Haruhiro raised his eyebrows. “Has it not been properly confirmed? That this core, or whatever it is, exists?”

“Exactly. The core hasn’t been discovered,” Moyugi said smoothly. “The undead are said to be a race that was initially created by the No-Life King’s curse. The fact of the matter is, even now, if a person is left lying around after their life functions are terminated, they’ll eventually begin to move because of that curse. It’s not limited to people, though. We know that not only elves, dwarves, orcs, goblins, kobolds, centaurs, and gnomes, the major sentient races, turn into what we call zombies three to five days after their deaths, but a number of other intelligent creatures do, too. However, though they can turn into zombies, they can’t become undead. Why is that?

“There are those who theorize that it has to do with the No-Life King being gone from this world, but whatever the case, his curse is still functioning. Furthermore, when the No-Life King was still around, the undead were born from that curse. Based on that, I theorize that the so-called core is not a thing inside the undead, but that it’s a thing that has come to reside inside them in some form. When that form breaks, they cease to be undead. In other words...”

“This is long.” Kajita gave a thumbs-up, and then turned it into a thumbs- down. “Too damn long.”

Moyugi clicked his tongue. “Well, let’s leave it at that, then. We’ve been

talking too long. My operation, it goes without saying, is still ongoing. Come on, we’re moving on to the next stage. Come on!”

“Huh...?” Haruhiro and Yume exchanged glances.

Yume had been spacing out. To tell the truth, so had Haruhiro. “What do you mean, next?” he asked.

“Guess we should go.” Kuro stood up, stretching and cracking his fingers. “Two more left. This is tough on an old man like me.”

Kajita shouldered his massive mushroom sword as if it was light. “Indeed.”

“No, Kajita, I know you don’t look it, but you’re waaaay younger than me, okay? This is easy for you, I’ll bet. It’s a piece of cake, right?” Kajita gave him a silent thumbs-up.

Moyugi had already gone far ahead with Moira.

“Two more...” Haruhiro walked on unsteady legs. “I guess we’ll have to finish them quickly?”

Was that okay? Or wasn’t it? He didn’t really know anymore. The fog was still thick, and deep.

5.    A Loss Too Great to Compensate For

Though they had faced many... no, countless... crises of the sort that would have made any other man abandon hope and give in to desperation, Ranta had carved his way through every one of them and made it his own.

Difficult situations are nothing to me, he’d always thought confidently. I can get out of anything.

That was what he believed. He was confident of it. Abso-total-lutely. Ranta grinned to himself. That word just then was clever. Abso-total-

lutely. Should he have shouted it out loud? Who knew? It was hard to say. If he shouted, they might get mad, maybe? More than that, perhaps? Or maybe them just getting mad was the least of his concerns?

Fog.

He had been in the fog for some time now.

There was nothing but fog, and he couldn’t help but be sick of it.

Good grief. Was there no way he could use the poor visibility provided by this fog to run for it?

Yeah, no. Great though he was, that was a little too tall of a task. He was tied up, after all.

Neatly bound, you could say?

The ropes bit into his upper body. This was that thing. You know, the turtle one. Turtle shell binding. Surprise of surprises, his legs were free, but his arms were cuffed together behind his back, so he couldn’t move them the way he wanted to. The rope extending his handcuffs was tied tightly around the trunk of a nearby tree. It was tiring to stand, so he sat and crossed his legs.

Ranta’s helmet had been taken off. His armor, he was still wearing.

Before being tied up, he’d been subjected to a body search that was more

violent than thorough, and he’d been relieved of all his possessions, weapons included.

Well, of course he had been. It was a body search, after all. He’d gone through it, and so had she.

He glanced to the side. Their shoulders were touching. She was next to him, kneeling with her head hung.

Hey, hey, hey, don’t get so touchy-feely. Do you have a thing for me, huh? Well? How about it? Ranta could have engaged in some light-hearted banter with her, but he didn’t. He couldn’t. They might get mad.

Just maybe, they might do more than get mad. If he was unlucky—maybe they might kill him...?

He couldn’t see all that well through the fog, so he didn’t know what kind of place this was, but they weren’t on top of a hill, at least. There was a cave right nearby. Of course, it wasn’t the exit they’d come out of before.

Ranta and Merry weren’t the only ones here. There were others. Lots of others.

First, there was those things. The cat-like creature with the dexterous- looking hands and the slightly oversized head. There were lots of them around. It was fair to say they were surrounded by the catty critters. Up in the trees, on the ground, lying around, curled into balls, there were all sorts of them, but it felt like they were being watched by them. Or, well, the creatures were definitely watching them. He already knew those creatures weren’t wild.

It wasn’t just the cat-like creatures. There were the deep black wolves by the mouth of the cave. They were all trained pets.

It was that goblin.

There was one black wolf lying down next to the cave that was larger than the rest, large enough to be called magnificent, and the goblin that was sitting next to it, petting it lovingly, was apparently the keeper of the cat-like creatures and the wolves. Based on what he had observed, that was the only possible conclusion.

However, that goblin that was wearing tight-fitting leather or something... It had a goblin’s face, a goblin’s figure, and a goblin’s physique—it was the gobliniest goblin ever—but there was something different about it. It was completely calm, like it was intelligent, and had an air of something like sorrow about it.

That’s no ordinary goblin, Ranta thought. Must be some kind of special goblin, huh?

That was plain to see. Well, of course it would be.

“H-Hey?” Ranta tried talking in the quietest voice he could manage. “Don’t let it get you down. We’re still alive, you know. So long as we’re alive, we can do something. Okay...?”

“You’re right.” Merry kept her head hung as she spat the words at him. “So long as you’re alive, you can get down and kowtow.”

“Urkh...”

Dark memories rushed back to him in an instant.

Kowtowing. It was true, yeah... he’d kowtowed! They’d been surrounded by wolves, and it’d seemed like things were about to get bad, okay?! It’d been on the spur of the moment! He’d done it reflexively, as one viable option! It’d been a masterful choice anyway!

Yeah, he’d done it!

He’d done it, okay? He’d gone and done it, because of course he would, right? He’d kowtowed, okay, all right?! That was fine, right? It’d been the right choice, in the end.

“Th-Thanks to that, we’re still alive,” Ranta said. “We managed to avoid getting killed there. Show a little gratitude, why don’t you. My rapid and timely kowtow overwhelmed our opponents.”

“More like it appalled them.”

“...Either way, we survived. Think positively, Merry.”

“Positively? In this situation?” Merry let out a strained sigh. “Quit joking around.”

Ranta gave her another sideways look. Well, if she couldn’t be positive, maybe he couldn’t blame her. They were tied up, after all. The ropes were digging in a bit, too. Wasn’t that kinda erotic? No, not kinda—it was pretty erotic, right?

Incidentally, that goblin had been the one to tie up both Ranta and Merry.

It’d done the body search, too. That meant it had gotten to feel Merry all over. Ranta hadn’t thought of it at the time, but looking back on it now, he was jealous.

No! It was outrageous! How dared a lowly goblin do that? Ranta hadn’t

even touched her yet!

“...What are you looking at?” Merry glared at him.

“I-I wasn’t looking.” Ranta turned to face forwards. “...Okay, so I was. I was looking, I was looking, I was totally looking. Is looking wrong? Hmph... You okay there? If they’re tight, or it hurts...”

“You pervert.”

“I... I was just concerned!” “Your voice.”

“Urkh...” Ranta hurriedly shut his mouth and looked around.

The cat-like creatures were all looking their way. The wolves were, too.

And that goblin. There were others, too.

The truth was, in addition to the cat-like creatures, the black wolves, and the goblin, there were a number of green-skinned orcs here, too. There were also a number of non-orcs hiding their skin. They went in and out of the cave, or loitered around the area.

What was with those guys? Who were they? For starters, why weren’t they trying to kill Ranta and Merry? If they’d wanted to do it, they could have. Even now, they still could. Weren’t orcs the enemy of humanity? What were goblins that should have been in and around Damuro doing here?

Ranta peeked at Merry again. They wouldn’t kill them quickly... was that it? Like, the fun was still to come? If there was something coming, was it that? Was it gonna be that? Like, Gehehehe, everyone gets a turn, guys?

Like, Merry’s gonna be in trouble? No, not like she was gonna be in trouble, she already was in trouble.

Yeah... That’s how it goes, huh.

If they were in a situation where their enemies could do them in at any moment, it meant they were in a situation where they could do her at any moment, too. Merry had to know that. She was definitely in for a bad time. She must be thinking it’d have been better if they’d killed her quickly and gotten it over with.

Which would come first? Would they kill Ranta, or would they get to Merry first? They might do it right in front of him while he was still alive... That would be hard on his psyche. He didn’t want to see it, but he kind of did. No, no, he did not. There was no way he’d want to see that.

Ranta shut his eyes tight. S-S-S-Scaryyyyyyyy. So damn scaryyyyyyyy. No, no, no, I don’t want this. Save me, save me, save me, please, I’m begging

you!

He heard Merry gulp.

Ranta opened his eyes. Opened them wide. Someone had come out of the cave. Someone.

It was no orc, no goblin, no humanoid creature. It was humanoid, though.

Because, well—it was a human.

He was coming. Walking this way. A human. His long, stiff hair was tied up at the top of his head. His face was covered in hair. His cheeks were sunken.

A kimono? He was wearing that sort of outfit, with an obi tied tightly around it, and his left hand was thrust inside his collar. He... had no right arm? Or was it just hidden inside his sleeve?

The long, thin object he held in his mouth seemed to be a pipe. He was smoking tobacco. The man was one-eyed. His left eye wasn’t just closed. There was a scar there.

Was he in his forties, maybe? He was an old man. But... What was going on?

There was a human, together with orcs and goblins? Were they comrades? “Hmm...” The old man stopped in front of Ranta and Merry, removing his

hand from his collar to stroke his chin. It made a scratchy sound. He had a curved sword at his hip. It looked like a katana, maybe.

“What a fine woman. She looks delicious.”

“What, you’re going to eat her?!” Ranta couldn’t help but poke fun at him.

The old man raised a bushy eyebrow and looked down at him. “The brat’s a feisty one, too.”

“Freshness comes first, huh? Dammiiiiiiiiit... W-We’re gonna get eaten, huh?”

“...I’m pretty sure that’s not it,” Merry said coolly.

“Shut up, Merry! And hold on, what are you so calm for?!” “I wouldn’t say I’m calm, exactly...”

“Well, settle down.” The old man yawned. “It’s true, if we decide we want to boil you, or bake you, and eat our fill, we’re free to do that. We can do whatever we want, whenever we want. If Onsa weren’t so capricious, you two would already be wolf food. You managed to avoid that. Why not be happy about your good fortune? Hm?”

The goblin was petting the big black wolf fondly as it looked at them.

Maybe Onsa was that goblin’s name.

Ranta looked at Merry. Merry was looking down, her shoulders heaving up and down. Her breathing was ragged. Her entire body was shuddering.

Was she scared? Of course she was.

Ranta took a deep breath, and fixed his eyes on the old man. He was scared silly, but he wasn’t going to let anyone think he was a chicken. He had his pride as the most atrocious dread knight to consider, after all.

“Kill me,” Ranta told him. “If you’re gonna kill us, do it already. But, you know what? You guys aren’t gonna do it. You’ve gotta have some reason, right?”

“It’s not much of a reason.” The old man blew a puff of smoke. “When we take captives, no matter what they’re like, we don’t just kill them. That’s the law.”

“The law...? What kind of group are you guys?” “What, you don’t know about us?”

“Well, no.” Ranta licked his lips.

So that’s how it is, he thought.

They wouldn’t kill them right away. The old man had guaranteed that. In that case, what did he have to fear? He wasn’t scared. He wasn’t scared one bit.

“We just got back from a little trip to another world, you see,” Ranta told him.

“Another world, huh?” The look in the old man’s eyes changed a little. It looked like he had the guy’s attention. Good, good.

“I may not seem it, but I’m kind of a well-known volunteer soldier,” Ranta bragged. “So, after building a ton of experience in another world, I’ve come back to Grimgar, bigger and better than ever. If you wanna hear about it, I can tell you stories.”

“Are you stupid?” Merry was whispering something in a low voice, but what did he care?

“It was an adventure that’d make your blood boil and your flesh dance!” Ranta declared. “No, it was a whole series of super adventures! Unknown lands, surprising creatures, our gold not worth a thing, our words not understood, our hard-earned experience irrelevant, we went through the ultimate survival experience in a place like that! How about it?! If you don’t

hear me out, I guarantee, you’ll regret it later, you know?! You want that?! To not hear this? If I were you, I’d listen, though!”

“Let me think.” The old man tilted his head to the side, and blew another puff of smoke. “I’ll pass.”

“No waaaaaay...”

“Let me ask you one thing.”

“A-Ask away! N-No! D-Depends what it is?! I don’t mind answering, I mean, I’m happy to cooperate... Really?”

“It’s in your own best interest to answer,” the old man said. “You two, what’s your connection to the village?”

“Village...?” Ranta and Merry looked at one another.

Merry shook her head, not seeming to understand. Ranta had no clue either, but was it okay to answer truthfully?

“The village, huh?” Ranta looked up at the old man. He tried to read the guy’s intentions from his expression, but it was no good. He wasn’t displaying anything that could be called an expression. The old man was expressionless. He’d have to go with his gut here.

“...Oh, the village,” Ranta said. “Yes, I know what that is. I mean, I’m the most knowledgeable guy around. If anyone tells you otherwise, they’re a liar. Why, I could stay up all night telling you all about villages! But let’s save that for another time...”

“I see.” The old man frowned and scratched the back of his head. “I can’t tell if you’re trying to pretend you know, or desperately trying to hide the fact you do.”

“Heh...” Ranta closed his eyes.

Yeah, I’ll bet you can’t, he thought. That’s exactly what I was going for.

“Looks like it’s safe to dispose of you.”

“Whaa?! Why is that?! Why’s it sabe?! Sabe?! What’s a sabe?!” “You, you’re a funny one, but shut up.”

“Sh-Shutting up... right now. Okay?” Ranta said.

“Woman.” The old man crouched down, seeming to lick Merry’s body up and down with his eyes. “The thing about human women, strangely enough, is that it seems the other races don’t mind them, either. We’re an all-male group. If you don’t put up any strange resistance, you may not die.”

Merry said nothing. She looked down at the ground, gritting her teeth. Maybe imagining the horrifying fate that awaited her in the near future had

left her unable to say anything.

Ranta didn’t have time to feel sympathy for Merry. The way things were going, Merry was going to become a plaything for the orcs and goblins, and Ranta would get killed either before or after it happened.

Ranta-sama, the most atrocious of all dread knights, didn’t think there was any way he could die here like that. Honestly, it just felt so unreal.

It had to be a scam where they make him think, You’re gonna die, you’re gonna die, or rather, You’re gonna get killed, you’re gonna get killed. They’d never actually kill him. Yeah. Of course he was gonna be fine.

Or maybe he just wanted to think he’d be fine...? When you died for real, was it really just that easy...? Die.

Was he going to die? No way.

He couldn’t die. Not yet.

He hadn’t even done it with a woman yet!

No, well, he didn’t remember anything from before he came to Grimgar, so he might already have had that experience, but if he didn’t remember it, it was the same as if he hadn’t. He wanted to at least do it before dying. No, no, he didn’t want to die. He wanted to do it, screw around like crazy a whole lot more, and live. No matter what happened, he had to live.

If the most atrocious of all dread knights went down like this, it would be a great loss for humanity. He had to live, for the sake of all humanity.

But how?

“Don’t make trouble,” the old man said with a low-pitched laugh, then blew on his pipe and walked off in the direction of the cave.

Ranta clicked his tongue. Damn it.

Before the old man left, he should have performed one last theatrical, brilliant, and powerful kowtow...

6.    Two Sides of the Same Coin

“They just never learn.” The man with a buzz cut who was wearing a priest’s uniform stuck his metal rod out.

An orc with his hair dyed many colors deliberately swung at the rod with his katana. That was all it looked like to Haruhiro, but that couldn’t be right. The man with the buzz cut was relatively short, while the orc had to be at least one hundred and ninety centimeters tall, even at a conservative estimate. It seemed like the orc should have been the stronger of the two, but obviously he couldn’t cut the metal rod in half with a katana.

That had to be Buzz Cut’s skill: to lure in his opponent, make them strike where he wanted them to, and then to use his opponent’s own power to strike back at them.

Buzz Cut’s metal rod spun around, striking the orc in the side of the face. But orcs were tough. Even taking a solid blow to the face from a rod made of iron, or perhaps some other heavy material, the orc staggered, but he didn’t go down. Buzz Cut should have been more than capable of following up with another attack, but he didn’t, instead backing away.

“I’ve got this!” Bursting out of the fog, a lanky man attacked the orc from behind. This man had a weapon in each hand. He was dual wielding. Based on that and his strategy of attacking from behind, the man was a thief.

However...

“The reason I can’t be happy, and the reason I’m haunted by sadness, and the reason my soul can’t find salvation, and the reason people won’t recognize my accomplishments, and the reason I don’t have a harem, they’re all your fault!” he shouted.

The thief moved in a way that seemed to challenge the limits of flexibility.

He was fast, yes, but he bent and wriggled like crazy, and it was kind of

creepy. It was good that he’d pushed the orc down and stabbed the hell out of him, but did he have to seem so vengeful about it? Besides, it was pretty clear that none of that stuff was the orc’s fault. He was just venting, right?

What was more, when the orc stopped moving, the man stood up slowly, soaked in his victim’s blood and muttered, “I’ve sinned again. My god, the god inside me, is dead!”

He made no sense. But whatever. He could do what he wanted. Well, not that he needed to be told that; he was apparently going to do it anyway, because the thief vanished into the fog once more using that bizarre walking style of his.

Meanwhile, Buzz Cut was using his metal rod to dodge another orc, and then strike back.

“We’ll leave Tsuga and Sakanami to their own devices, as planned.” Moyugi pressed on the bridge of his glasses with his middle finger, then immediately ambled away. “We’ll move on to the next place.”

It seemed natural that Moira followed him silently, because she was his demon, but why did Kuro say “Righto,” and tag along, too? The priest with the buzz cut, Tsuga, and the strange thief, Sakanami, were their comrades, weren’t they? They were members of the Typhoon Rocks. Despite that, was it okay that they just watched their comrades fighting from a distance, without lending a hand, and then acted like it was none of their concern what happened afterwards?

While Haruhiro was confused, a big hand came to rest on his shoulder. When he turned to look, the big bald man wearing sunglasses, Kajita, was giving him a thumbs-up, his mustache upturned in a smile.

What? What’s that sign supposed to mean?

“...Oh. Okay then,” was the only response Haruhiro could give.

Kajita shouldered his massive mushroom sword and followed Kuro. He walked at an easy pace, with a swagger. He walked so boldly.

Did people like him not hesitate, or feel indecisive? Or did they? Which was it?

Yume poked Haruhiro in the back. “Haru-kun, should we be goin’, too?” “Oh... Yeah.”

She was right. They had to go.

I keep thinking that, don’t I? Is this really okay?

He’d been thrown totally off his pace. Or rather, he couldn’t keep pace

with the others. It made him doubt that he even had his own pace to begin with. Haruhiro followed behind Kajita with Yume, thinking, Man, I’m so fragile, and feeling ashamed as he did.

In his usual group of six, he managed to lead them somehow, bringing them together in some form. But when other factors came into play, like now, he was suddenly hopeless. Everything fell apart before he knew it, and he had no idea what to do in response.

Why...? he wondered. What’s the problem? What am I lacking? What’s missing?

If he were to answer “everything” to that question, he felt like that would be running away from it. If he said that, it would be all over. He was frustrated, and hopelessly angry at himself. He didn’t want to stay like this.

“Yume... Hold on,” Haruhiro said suddenly. “Fwuh?”

“I want to talk to Moyugi-san.”

“M’kay. While you do that, Yume’s gonna stay next to Kajitan.” Kajita turned back and gave them a thumbs-up. He didn’t speak much,

and it was hard to figure out what he was like, but he was reassuring to have around.

Haruhiro started to run, passing Kajita, and then Kuro, before coming up beside Moira. Moira suddenly turned and fixed her pit-like eyes on Haruhiro. “Nooooooooooo...”

You’re scaring me here, Haruhiro thought nervously.

No, he didn’t have time to be scared. He had to absorb things. To beg for teachings, or whatever else he could, and absorb everything he could. He’d make them his own.

“Um, Moyugi-san, Is this—”

“If your question is stupid, I’ll ignore it.” The way Moyugi went out of his way to tell Haruhiro that, it showed that he might be surprisingly considerate of others. Either that, or he just liked to talk.

“I’ve done some thinking, but... This plan, normally you’d want to concentrate your forces, but you’re doing the opposite,” Haruhiro said hesitantly. “By splitting up, are you trying to make the enemy divide their overwhelming larger force, and then taking them out one group at a time, maybe?”

“If it were up to me, we’d never follow a stupid plan like that.”

“...Same here. Even if I thought of it, I don’t think I could do it. It’s too risky.”

“However, when it comes to tactics, they aren’t a thing where you can plug your variables into some sort of formula and it will lead you to the answer. Based on countless conditions, your process will change. And your result, too, of course.”

Haruhiro understood that. Even if his group had its own form, it depended on what they were up against. What kind of enemies. Where they were fighting. Whether they could launch a surprise attack. Whether they were suddenly attacked themselves. Many factors came into play, and that changed their ideal plan. They had to change and adapt it.

“This time, it just so happened to be that the situation made you choose a plan you normally wouldn’t... Is that it?” Haruhiro asked.

“To put it another way, we have no plan,” Moyugi said, not answering Haruhiro’s question directly. “We have the essence of one, of course. Like, this is the way things are, and this is what to do if this happens. But, even with that, there are exceptions. In the end, when it comes time to make a decision, plans are just another factor we take into consideration. What do you think strength is?”

“Huh?”

That came out of left field, thought Haruhiro. Or was it actually connected somehow?

“Well, the ability to win, I guess,” Haruhiro said. “It may seem trite, but I’d say something like, ‘The strong don’t win; those who win are strong.’”

“There’s truth in that. For instance, I, the strongest dread knight in active service, do not possess exceptional physical prowess, or a rare potential for dread magic.”

While thinking, He’s not going to give up on that “strongest dread knight in active service” thing, huh? Haruhiro nodded. “Right.”

“Let us imagine there was a fierce warrior who could kill a dragon with a finger flick to the forehead. If he was attacked in their sleep, or were slipped poison, they’d die easily. The fact of the matter is, there’ve been no shortage of heroes who’ve met their end that way. I know that’s true. Unfortunately, not being able to remember my original world, I can’t offer any concrete examples. For someone from here, maybe the No-Life King would count?”

“Strength doesn’t require power,” Haruhiro said slowly. “Is that what

you’re saying?”

“Having it doesn’t hurt. You use what you have available to you.

However, even with training, not everyone is going to be able to run the hundred-meter dash in under ten seconds, right? Though, in this world, for the moment, at least, it doesn’t seem there’s any way to accurately measure times that are less than a second. I think there was in our original world, though.”

“You keep managing to slip in those mentions of our original world...” “Doesn’t it concern you? If it doesn’t, then you’re a fool. Though I

suppose most people are fools.”

“I can’t say for sure whether I’m a fool or not, but... honestly, it does concern me,” Haruhiro said.

“You’re a member of the Day Breakers, so I figured it would.”

Shima had told Haruhiro, “We’re searching for a way back to our original world.”

“Soma says there are signs of the No-Life King returning, and he formed the Day Breakers with the objective of entering Undead DC in the former Kingdom of Ishmal,” said Moyugi. “Setting aside the issue of whether there are any signs of it happening, I’m sure that the No-Life King, said to lie sleeping in Ever Rest in Undead DC, will eventually rise again. His curse is still in effect, after all. When that happens, not just Alterna, but the entire Kingdom of Arabakia’s mainland will not be left unscathed. I’m sure we’ll be forced to fight, whether we like it or not, for the survival of humanity, each of us putting our lives on the line. If possible, I want to take care of things before it comes to that. To destroy the No-Life King as soon as possible.

That’s what Soma has been gathering the power to do. On the surface, at least.”

“But his real objective is to return to our original world?” Haruhiro queried.

“There may come a point when we have to slay the No-Life King, so while that’s the reason we give for public consumption, it’s not just a front,” Moyugi said. “I want to become strong, after all. To defend what needs defending, to seize what I desire, and to reclaim what I have no doubt lost.”

Though Moyugi was by no means short, he wasn’t especially tall, either.

The reason he looked lanky was because he was thin. He had the bare minimum amount of muscle that he needed, but you couldn’t exactly call him

musclebound. His gestures lacked strength and power, he wasn’t nimble, and he himself had said that he had no special gift for dread magic. In fact, if Haruhiro set his mind to it, he could probably get behind the man. When it came to strength, agility, and maybe even endurance, it was possible that Haruhiro was better than Moyugi.

But he couldn’t beat him. Even if he could get behind the man and prepare a one-shot kill, the tables would be turned on him. He couldn’t help but feel that way.

There was Moira, for one thing. Besides, if Haruhiro aimed for Moyugi’s back, there was no doubt Moyugi would predict it. This was true of anything, but if he was expecting it, there were steps he could take. Moyugi would anticipate that Haruhiro was better than him, and lay traps.

What kind of traps?

He didn’t know. He couldn’t imagine.

If he fell into some unknown trap, would he come out of it alive?

He couldn’t predict that. His legs cowered in fear. He couldn’t think straight.

He was guaranteed to lose at this rate.

“Everyone plans a step ahead before they act,” said Moyugi. “So you plan even further ahead, right?” Haruhiro asked.

“I read one hundred steps ahead before I move. Well, that’s what I’d like to say, but there’re too many branches, so it’s not realistically possible.”

“Um... Well, do you plan something like ten steps in advance, then, Moyugi-san?”

“I’m always three steps ahead. Even for me, the strongest dread knight in active service, that’s the best I can manage.”

That’s not very many, was what Haruhiro initially thought, but then he reconsidered. “Always,” Moyugi had said. That meant he started each fight by predicting three steps in advance, but that wasn’t the end of it. If he kept thinking three steps ahead with each turn that passed, that meant he needed to keep thinking at all times.

That’d be tiring. It’d wear him out. It’d be tough. So tough that it’d make your nose bleed.

Did he have to go that far in order to become stronger and win?

Yes. He wasn’t a genius, wasn’t some sort of chosen one, so if he didn’t do at least that much, he wasn’t going to be able to win. He couldn’t become

strong. That was probably what it meant.

In this line of business, defeat could very well mean death. If Moyugi didn’t want to die, no matter how tough it was, no matter how exhausting, he had to do it. If he didn’t, it’d be fine for as long as he kept pulling out victories somehow, but he’d eventually lose and die. If he didn’t want that, he had to call it quits.

“Um, Moyugi-san,” Haruhiro spoke up. “What is it?”

“Thank you. That was helpful. I learned a lot.” Moyugi just snorted, not saying anything.

Thinking. Up until now, Haruhiro thought he had been doing that. But if you’d asked him whether he thought and thought and thought until he reached his limit, he wouldn’t have been able to puff up his chest proudly and said, Of course.

Haruhiro felt that he had thought pretty hard. But hadn’t he always felt, somehow, that it was enough?

He hadn’t pushed it to the limits. That was for sure. He had sometimes tried pretty hard, but in the end, after reaching a certain point, he’d tended to take a hands-off approach and let what would be, be. He’d figure he’d done enough, so it was probably fine. No one was going to complain to him.

It was only natural there would be a gap between a person like him, and a person who kept thinking and analyzing.

It wasn’t a difference in ability. It was a question of who was doing everything they possibly could. That was the only difference, but it all piled up to create a huge gap between the two of them.

“By the way...” Haruhiro decided to ask a question, though he didn’t expect an answer. “These enemies, who are they anyway? Why are you people fighting against them?”

“If I were to sum up our reason simply...” Moyugi was actually answering, to his surprise. “...it’s on a whim.”

“On... a whim?” Haruhiro looked at him quizzically.

Before he had time to digest that, the next group came to attack them. The fog was still as dense as ever. Thanks to that, he couldn’t see them, but he could hear the noise. He heard voices, too.

Haruhiro expected Moyugi to scope things out again, but he saw no signs of the man slowing his pace.

This area was comparatively flat, and it was thick with thin, blackish trees. They had to slip between them, so walking really wasn’t easy.

“Kuro. Kajita.” Without stopping, Moyugi signaled something to the two of them with his hands.

Haruhiro came close to asking for orders, but he couldn’t do that. He had to think first.

Turning back, Kuro was heading left, and Kajita was heading right. Yume was looking at him in anticipation. Kuro specialized in shooting enemies dead without them discovering his location, so it was best not to get in his way.

Let’s support Kajita without getting too close or straying too far away,

Haruhiro decided.

He headed back to where Yume was, and then they followed Kajita together. Moyugi kept pressing ahead, with Moira accompanying him.

Kajita turned his head towards Haruhiro and Yume and gave them a thumbs-up. It’d be rude to just ignore him. Haruhiro hesitated briefly, then gave him a thumbs-up in return.

Kajita looked satisfied. Or at least that was how it seemed.

Haruhiro still couldn’t see the enemy, but eventually he was able to more or less make out their voices. There were probably multiple orcs. There was a human man, and a woman, too. One of each, huh? But they weren’t shouting, just letting out a sharp battle cry every once in a while.

“Rock!” Moyugi shouted, probably intentionally.

There was an immediate, “Yeah!” from a man who seemed to be in high spirits in response. “It’s going just like we planned! Kill ’em all!”

“Rarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrgh!”

Kajita let loose a loud roar that seemed to make the heavens and earth shake. It wasn’t just any ordinary shout. He used a special vocalization method to emit a sound it seemed like no person should be able to, intimidating all who heard it. It was a warrior’s war cry. Even so, this was the most incredible one Haruhiro had ever heard.

Haruhiro covered his ears despite himself, and almost crouched down.

Yume staggered and blinked in amazement.

Yeah, it hits you pretty hard, Haruhiro agreed.

The enemies were coming this way. Naturally, that was what the war cry was meant to make them do.

“Yume, get in front of me!” Haruhiro shouted.

“Meow!” Yume bobbed her head up and down vigorously, then drew Wan-chan and got in front of Haruhiro.

Haruhiro had his stiletto in his right hand, and a knife with a hand guard in his left. He steadied his breathing, erased his presence, and went into Stealth.

It was lame hiding in Yume’s shadow, but he couldn’t afford to be concerned about appearances. Instead of just reacting, he would think, and then act on his own initiative. This was necessary for him to be able to do that.

At some point, a fighting style in which he used Swat to fend of his opponent’s attacks, waiting for an opening to strike, had become second nature to him. But Haruhiro was a thief. Swat was only meant to get him out of a tight spot. Keeping an enemy busy wasn’t a thief’s job. Thief skills could be divided into three categories: ambush tactics, thieving techniques, and lethal combat techniques. He was meant to be an attacker in combat.

An orc leapt out of the fog.

“Indeed!” Kajita met him with his massive mushroom sword. He tried to cut through the orc along with the blackish trees, but the orc dodged.

A second, then a third orc appeared, pressing in on Kajita.

Is he going to be okay? was one thing Haruhiro didn’t have to worry. He’d most likely have planned for this possibility, and Kajita didn’t need someone insignificant like Haruhiro worrying about him. Besides, Haruhiro and Yume had enemies coming their way, too. From up ahead, to the left.

It was—not an orc. An undead, huh? It wasn’t one of the four-armed ones called double arms. Its neck was weirdly long, with weirdly sloping shoulders and long arms.

Haruhiro silently adjusted his position. He was on the straight line that connected Yume and the undead. This was the spot. Here, the undead couldn’t see Haruhiro. It couldn’t detect him.

Yume raced forward. The undead charged in.

Should I keep waiting? Haruhiro wondered. No.

Forcing aside his indecision, Haruhiro moved. He maintained his Stealth, taking a somewhat wide route around Yume’s right side as he steadily approached the undead.

The undead still hadn’t noticed Haruhiro. Soon Yume’s curved blade and

the undead’s sword sent sparks flying. Just after that—no, before that— Haruhiro managed to circle around behind the undead. With his stiletto and knife, he slashed a cross shape into the thing’s bizarrely long neck.

As it collapsed, unable to withstand the blow, Yume pounded Wan-chan down on the top of its head. “Chowah!”

With its head smashed open, the undead lost its strength. It was almost like a broken doll. Without pausing for a breath, Haruhiro got behind Yume again.

Kajita was taking on three orcs at once. He hadn’t defeated even one of them yet. It looked like they were tough ones.

“Yume, let’s give Kajita-san one less enemy to deal with,” Haruhiro said. “Meowger.” Yume walked quickly towards one of the orcs.

Her shadow. Haruhiro had become the brave Yume’s shadow.

The orcs noticed Yume. Here it came. Just one of them. The other two stayed pinned to Kajita. This one’s hair was dyed gold and braided, and his weapon was a katana. He was about as tall as Kajita. Tall as he was, though, he was still light on his feet. The fact that his head didn’t bob up and down was proof that he had a stable center of gravity.

At a glance, the orc seemed lightly equipped, but he was actually wearing armor that protected him from the neck down. He had guards on his knees, elbows, and shins, as well as armored gloves. Given he had been able to give Kajita trouble, there was no doubt he was skilled.

Haruhiro tried to move forward on Yume’s left side while maintaining his Stealth, but the golden-haired orc immediately detected him. He was a sharp one. Haruhiro immediately hid himself behind Yume once more.

Immediately after that, the golden-haired orc and Yume had an intense exchange of blows. The golden-haired orc’s katana was slightly longer than Yume’s Wan-chan. The golden-haired orc was more muscular, too. It felt like Yume was just barely managing to fend off his attacks as she backed away.

The golden-haired orc was putting pressure on Yume, but he still had the presence of mind to watch out for Haruhiro.

I have to support Yume quickly, thought Haruhiro. I can’t just act randomly. Think. Hurry. Don’t lose your head. Think.

“Yume, pull back!” he called.

Yume quickly rolled back and to the left. It was Pit Rat.

Haruhiro immediately moved up. Now the golden-haired orc couldn’t

pursue Yume. Haruhiro acted as intimidating as he could, taking up the stance for Assault.

“Ohhhh!” he cried, realizing what was going on.

If he didn’t hit the golden-haired orc with everything he had, he might be swept aside. He had to go all out from the beginning.

The golden-haired orc seemed to be saying, I’ll take you on. He wouldn’t underestimate Haruhiro. He’d be a nasty enemy to deal with.

And the enemy’s weapon had a much longer reach, so if Haruhiro didn’t get up close, it wasn’t even going to be much of a fight. Haruhiro charged in as if he was going to tackle the orc.

That was what he made it look like, but then he used his right foot to kick up some of the almost mud-like dirt. It was Flinch. Basically, he was throwing dirt in his opponents’ eyes. He hadn’t used it much in actual combat, but the dirt flew towards the golden-haired orc’s face like it was supposed to. The golden-haired orc didn’t even flinch, just raising up his arm to block it. During that time, Haruhiro—didn’t charge in. He turned on his heel and raced the other way.

“Urga?!” That surprised the golden-haired orc. And so, he hesitated.

Thinking it must be a trap. The truth was, it was a trap, in a way.

Haruhiro ran about four meters, then turned back to face the golden-haired orc. Walking sideways, he moved to a place where he could flank the golden- haired orc with Yume. Haruhiro signaled to Yume with his eyes, but it wasn’t necessary.

Yume returned Wan-chan to its sheath, pulling out a throwing knife and immediately tossing it. “Star Piercer, meow!”

The golden-haired orc quickly reacted, twisting to dodge the throwing knife. Haruhiro tried to close in on the orc from behind—but he was detected, so he immediately backed away.

Meanwhile, Yume had been nocking an arrow. She let it loose. Three shots. It was Rapid Fire.

The golden-haired orc easily avoided the first two, but deflected the third one with his katana.

After that, for a moment, he lost sight of Haruhiro.

When he noticed Haruhiro had used Stealth to get into striking distance, even as impressive as the golden-haired orc was, he had to be shocked. From his perspective, Haruhiro seemed to be saying, Now’s the time—but he didn’t

attack.

Haruhiro fell back, putting distance between them again.

The golden-haired orc looked surprised and disappointed, but also on guard. He might have already seen through Haruhiro’s intentions. Even if he had seen through him, there shouldn’t have been anything he could do. At the very least, he couldn’t realistically dispatch Haruhiro and Yume in a hurry.

That was because they were buying time. Of course, if it seemed like they could take the orc down, they would. But there was no way they would do anything too risky.

The golden-haired orc had to choose between taking them on in a battle of endurance and letting the difference in strength win it for him, or else quickly crushing Haruhiro or Yume and turning it into a one-on-one battle. Of course, if he could have done the later, he already would have. The golden-haired orc was stronger than either Haruhiro or Yume, but he didn’t have that great of a strength advantage. The golden-haired orc knew it, too.

As a result, if they got impatient, it would be easy for him, but that wasn’t going to happen. The golden-haired orc settled in for the long course. He likely figured he just had to win in the end. He probably figured that even if it took some time, he’d be able to win, so he would attack them slowly and carefully. His confidence was probably unshakable.

The fact of the matter was, if the fight dragged on like this, Haruhiro and Yume might lose without ever finding any chance of victory. That was why the golden-haired orc was doing the right thing. Haruhiro and Yume had also chosen the optimal course of action for their situation, so as long as neither party made a mistake, the one who deserved to win would.

As the golden-haired orc stood there, not showing any sign of overconfidence, an arrow stabbed into the left side of his chest.

“...Whuh?” Yume tilted her head to the side.

Yume’s bow still had an arrow nocked. The shooter wasn’t Yume.

The golden-haired orc let out a low groan, but braced himself and turned to face in the direction the arrow had flown from. When he did, another arrow pounded into his right arm. Without missing a beat, a third arrow struck the center of his chest. They were easily penetrating his armor. What a powerful bow. The golden-haired orc dropped to one knee.

“To think you’d use me.” Kuro emerged from the fog. His bow was slung over his back, and he had a single-edged sword in his hand. It was similar to

the katanas the orcs wielded. “You’re a cheeky one.”

The golden-haired orc stood up, switching his katana to his left hand. Even though it was his off hand, his slashing blows were still sharp. Still, Kuro deflected them easily, then decapitated the golden-haired orc.

“Use you?” Haruhiro let out a small sigh. “You make it sound like a bad thing.”

“Don’t go counting on me. I’m the kind of guy who wants to look the other way when people start having expectations of him.” Kuro collected his arrows from the golden-haired orc’s corpse, waving casually to them as he vanished into the fog once more.

“Haru-kun, were you thinkin’ that Kuroron’d come?” Yume asked.

“I figured, at worst, we could hold out until Kajita finished off the other two orcs and came to help. That was the idea, at least.”

Haruhiro looked over in Kajita’s direction. The man had just cut down one of the orcs with his massive mushroom sword, so there was just one left to go.

No, it looked like there were reinforcements. It was misty, so Haruhiro could only make out silhouettes at this point, but there were one orc and one undead. He gestured to Yume, and they were about to go intercept with the incoming reinforcements when the orc collapsed, and the undead came to a halt. Had Kuro done that?

“Drahhhhhhhhh!” Kajita roared, pressuring the orc he was up against. He pushed, and pushed.

Not only was he not losing to the orc in a contest of strength, he was totally winning. The undead that had temporarily come to a halt rushed forward, probably intending to support the orc, but he didn’t make it in time.

Kajita’s massive mushroom sword smashed the katana that the orc was desperately flailing around in half. In that moment, the battle was decided.

Kajita stepped in boldly, kicking the orc to the ground, then whaled on him with his massive mushroom sword. The orc’s head was pulverized and splattered.

Without stopping to take a breath, Kajita went to attack the undead. He didn’t need any help. Haruhiro and Yume nodded to one another, then decided to move forward.

They felt something pulling them further and further forward. The leader of the Typhoon Rocks, Rock, was up ahead.

Kuro, Moyugi, Kajita, Sakanami, and Tsuga. Just what was Rock, the man who led this group of uncommonly intense personalities, like? Would he be as much of a weirdo as the rest of them? Or would he have a surprising amount of common sense? Honestly, when it came to famous volunteer soldiers, especially those who led parties or clans, it felt like there were hardly any that were lacking for personality. If any of them were normal— no, if any of them had common sense—it would be Shinohara-san of Orion, and maybe that was about it?

Someone like Haruhiro would never become famous. Still, given that an ordinary party led by a plain, mediocre leader like him was in the Day Breakers, it was possible that they had already been standing out in a bad way. On top of that, they’d been stranded in the Dusk Realm, so everyone must have been convinced they were wiped out. They’d probably already started to forget them.

When people found out they were actually alive, and they’d made it back, might they actually get talked about a lot? Like, no matter where they went, people would make a joke out of it and tease them? Maybe they’d be better off not returning to Alterna?

Of course, he was getting ahead of himself. Way too far ahead. It wasn’t even certain that they could make it back yet. For now, he had to focus his energies on making it back in one piece. In order to do that, first they needed to make it through this battle.

Well, no matter how he psyched himself up, and no matter how he wracked his brains for what little wisdom was to be found in them, there would still be domains he couldn’t hope to set foot in.

“...They’re going at it.” Haruhiro came to stop.

Yume came to a stop next to him. “Hochow...” She let out a weird expression of surprise.

One-on-one.

There was a human man and a four-armed undead that was apparently a double arm fighting in single combat.

That double arm’s dangerous. Haruhiro could tell it at a glance. First of all, he was quad wielding. He had a katana in each of its hands, and controlled them freely.

Haruhiro had confidence that if he took him on, he’d get killed before he could do a thing. Though, maybe that wasn’t what you’d call confidence.

Also, his movements were clearly very quick. While his speed varied, he never came to a stop, not even for a moment. That double arm was an uninterrupted flow of motion. The strokes of his four katanas had a smooth and natural beauty. They were graceful, even. Yet they still had a fierceness to them. The double arms’ attacks were like a clear stream, yet also a raging river, and that man was using just one sword to either deflect them, or turn them aside.

It was unbelievable.

After all, that man whose hair was standing on end for some reason... he was short.

If you looked at another famous volunteer soldier, “One-on-One” Max of Iron Knuckle was by no means a big man, but he was still around the same height as Haruhiro.

This man was even shorter than Ranta, who was already shorter than Haruhiro. He might not be much over 160 centimeters tall.

There were times when flexibility beat brute strength. Just because someone was big, that didn’t necessarily mean they were strong. Even so, body size was a major weapon. In close combat, the smaller a person’s body, the greater the disadvantage they were at. Even Haruhiro, with his one hundred and seventy-two centimeters, had to admit he wished he was taller. Even if he couldn’t be as tall as Kuzaku, he’d have liked to be one hundred and eighty centimeters.

The double arm was probably over one hundred and eighty-five centimeters tall. He was over twenty centimeters taller than the man, and had twice as many arms, too. When it came to weapons, he had four times as many.

On top of that, the man’s sword wasn’t long. It wasn’t a short sword, but it was on the short side.

He can’t win like that, thought Haruhiro.

No matter how he looked at it, the man didn’t stand a chance.

In fact, as the man jumped left and right, backed away, ducked, and rolled, he seemed to be having a hard enough time just blocking and dodging the double arm’s four katanas. It wouldn’t have been surprising to see him get hit at any moment. It was only a matter of time. That man was on the edge, but managing to hold out somehow.

Haruhiro couldn’t even gulp. That’s scary. The double arm’s gonna get

him. It’ll get him for sure. I want to close my eyes. Wait...

That man, just now, did he do something? Did he draw another sword, maybe? But he’s only holding the one. Does that mean he drew a different sword, then exchanged it with the one he was using before? Looks like he returned the sword he was using before to its sheathe. What for?

Haruhiro didn’t know, but the man went on the attack at the same time he switched swords.

“Ha ha ha ha!” the man laughed, launching a fierce assault. The quad wielding double arm was immediately forced onto the defensive.

Haruhiro couldn’t keep up with the man’s swordwork. It wasn’t because of the distance, or the fog, he was just that fast. The man swung his sword faster than the eye could see, advancing in almost a straight line. He rushed forward with tremendous force.

Just when Haruhiro thought he understood, the man changed his grip on the sword, this time moving around to the double arm’s right-hand side, or maybe to his left-hand side, and launching slashing attacks.

The double arm was amazing, too, for being able to respond to this sudden change-up. On top of that, the double arm began to counterattack. When he did, the man changed his grip on the sword, and went into charging mode.

The double arm—did not back away. He caught the man’s sword, using two of his katanas like a pair of scissors, then counterattacked with the remaining two. The man discarded his sword without hesitation, drawing the other one. The two changed roles as attacker and defender at a dizzying speed.

Haruhiro had goosebumps. His breath was short. This was no time to be staring intently, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away.

“Yahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” A shrieking battle cry tore through the foggy sky.

He hadn’t anticipated the appearance of an intrusion, so Haruhiro was struck dumb. Could anyone intervene in a serious battle between that man and the double arm?

But she stepped in boldly. Long black hair. That was a human woman. The woman sprang forward, katana at the ready, launching herself towards the double arm the man was facing.

“Arara?!” the man turned and shouted. The double arm wasn’t about to let that opening slip by.

The double arm’s four katanas closed in on the man. With no other choice, the man leapt backwards.

When the double arm tried to immediately follow up with another attack, the woman with disheveled hair took a slash at him.

“This is for Tatsuru-sama! Prepare yourself! Yahhhhhhh!”

This was a surprise. The woman wasn’t half bad, either. Holding her katana in two hands, she thrust once, then twice, with a combo attack that was like a line of spears, and made the double arm back away. That said, she couldn’t keep thrusting forever. Eventually the woman’s hands stopped—in order to lure the double arm into a counterattack, at which point she made a return thrust, and a return slash targeting his legs, and then, when that was dodged, she thrust, and thrust, and thrust like crazy to push him back.

“Arara!” The man picked up the sword he had discarded earlier, then attacked the double arm once more. “I told you I’d take Arnold!”

Two against one. The double arm was on the ropes. That was how it looked to Haruhiro.

“Do you mean to say I cannot best him with my level of skill?!” Even as the woman shouted back at him, her katana didn’t rest. “Even if I lack the power, I must slay this one by myself!”

Haruhiro felt like he was starting to grasp their situation. This woman was Arara, and Arnold was apparently the double arm’s name. Arara had said something like, This is for Tatsuru-sama! when she’d attacked Arnold. He didn’t know if this Tatsuru-sama was a relative of hers, or what, but it was clear he had been someone important to her. Arnold had killed him. Arara was seeking vengeance.

The short man with his hair standing on end was probably Rock. Rock seemed to be helping her for some reason.

“So it’s gonna be a joint project between me and Arara, huh?” Rock called. “Ha ha! Well, that’ll be fun for me!”

“Don’t talk nonsense!”

“I’m not kidding, I’m serious here!” “Then that’s even more reason!”

Though they were arguing, Rock and Arara were in sync as they unleashed a fierce attack. They rained blows on Arnold from both sides in rapid succession, so the double arm didn’t have a lot of leeway to work with. He was stuck on the defensive, and his moves were clearly becoming more chaotic.

“Ha ha ha ha!” Rock got behind Arnold. “This is after I went to all that trouble to fight you one-on-one!”

At the last possible moment, Arnold managed to knock back Rock’s sword with one of his katanas.

Instantly, Arara cried, “Yahhhhhhhhhh!” and thrust from directly in front of him.

While Arnold twisted his head to avoid it, he also used two katanas to deflect it at the same time. If he had only dodged, Arara would surely have used a second thrust to inflict a severe wound on Arnold. Having her katana knocked aside by two katanas threw Arara off balance, but Rock was there.

When Arnold started to turn, Rock launched a combo attack on him. “Rah, rah, rah, rah, rah, rah, rah, rah, rah, rah, rah, rah, rahhhh!”

It hit Arnold when he wasn’t in a very good stance. He managed to block with his four katanas up until around the sixth or seventh blow. He missed the one after that, leaving Arnold with a shallow wound on one of his arms.

Maybe that made him panic, because he rolled forward as if he had tripped on something.

Now, thought Haruhiro. You can do this. Right there. Get him.

No matter how he looked at it, this was the perfect chance. Rock was about to spring on Arnold, too, but for some reason he stopped himself. Not only that, he leapt backwards. “Arara!”

Arara inhaled sharply. Maybe she had sensed something. Instead of falling straight backwards, she tried to move diagonally as she distanced herself from Arnold. It was hard to think she’d been too slow. Arara had reacted quickly. But, still, she didn’t make it in time.

In an instant, Arnold transformed into a whirlwind.

That wasn’t even a metaphor. When Arnold suddenly leapt spinning into the air, he did, in fact, seem like a little whirlwind, and he tore into Arara’s back with the force of one. Having taken a wound at least deep enough to draw blood, Arara collapsed to the ground. If Rock hadn’t scooped her up as he fled, who knows what might have happened. Arara might have been chopped up by Arnold’s four katanas.

“Retreat!” Rock bellowed as he ran. “Arara’s down! Retreat!” “KYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY.”

It was a noise like miasma violently gushing forth from the bowels of the earth to make all things rot away. Was that a voice?

Arnold had his head thrown back, and his arms spread wide. Was he coming? Or wasn’t he? Of course he was coming.

Haruhiro grabbed Yume’s arm and took off running. Even if he hadn’t taken her arm, all it would have taken was one word. That was all it would have taken, but, for some reason, his voice wouldn’t come out. He felt like it would be best if it didn’t.

For now, he had to shut up and run. Run for it. He had to put as much distance as he could between them and this place, and that guy, Arnold, and he needed to do it as fast as possible.

Don’t look back, he warned himself. If you’ve got time to do that, work your legs harder.

Yume seemed to agree with Haruhiro. They were almost racing to see who could flee the fastest.

Soon, Kajita’s back came into view. Kajita was running for it, too.

For now, let’s follow Kajita, decided Haruhiro. We’ll run as far as we can. To the ends of the earth, if we have to.

It was run or die.

He’d kill them for sure.

Arnold. That undead. That double arm was dangerous.

Haruhiro prayed that Arnold hadn’t noticed Yume and him. If Arnold wasn’t looking for them, they might make it somehow. But, if he was, running might not do them any good. They could struggle all they wanted, but he’d still catch them and cut them down.

Haruhiro was already winded. His throat, his chest, and his sides were all screaming out in pain. Even so, he didn’t slow down. Stopping for a break was out of the question.

“Fwah...” Yume collapsed.

Haruhiro immediately dragged her to her feet.

When he glanced around, he saw that Kajita had stopped and was looking to the rear. He turned to them, and gave them the thumbs-up.

It’s safe now. Was that what it meant? Could they trust that?

Haruhiro wasn’t sure, but he must have run out of steam, because his body felt like it had lost all its bones. He was all limp. It might not have been completely impossible, but he didn’t think he could run any more.

He’d made Yume stand up for a moment, but she’d slumped down again right there.

“Th... Th-That sure was scary...” Yume said.

As the leader, Haruhiro wanted to put up a false front of bravado. He couldn’t.

“I-It sure was...”

7.    Master Choice

It’d be easier to just die.

This wasn’t the first time Merry had felt this way.

After she’d lost three of her original comrades at once, for a while, quite a long while, day in and day out, she had wanted to die. To be more precise, she had been at the mercy of feelings of regret, self-blame, and loss, and she hadn’t been able to think of anything but death that might free her from them.

She had contemplated ending her life, but had felt it would be wrong. Her comrades had basically sacrificed themselves to let her survive. It was thanks to them that she was alive, so how could she die? Unless she suffered far, far more, it would all be a lie. This was a punishment she deserved.

That was how she’d felt, so even when things had gotten so hard that it felt like it would be easier to die, she’d never died. She couldn’t have allowed herself to.

But this time, it was different. She might actually be better off dead. In fact, she questioned why she had to live.

After all, from here on, they were going to do horrible, repulsive things to her that she didn’t even want to imagine. She didn’t want to imagine them, but they still crossed her mind. What were the orcs going to do to her? Was that goblin going to humiliate her, too?

No.

I’m not kidding.

I’m going to die.

That’s right. I’ll bite through my tongue and die.

Oh, but dying might not stop them from defiling her lifeless body. What did she care what happened once she was dead? But still, the thought was hard to take.

No. No. No. No.

“Merry.”

“...Huh?” Merry raised her face and looked next to her.

Ranta looked enervated, and he was sweating profusely. Like the shadow of death was hanging over him.

Even so, she thought, You don’t have it so bad. They’re only going to kill you.

She was in for more than that. They’d torment her all they liked, torturing her body and soul, and then kill her in some brutal way when they were done with her. That was the fate waiting for Merry.

She wanted to scream as loud as she could, You think you can understand how I feel right now?!

Of course, that would be taking it out on the wrong person. Merry desperately tried to steady her breathing. “...What?”

“No... It’s just, I called your name a bunch of times, but you didn’t answer...”

“A bunch of times?” “You didn’t hear me?”

“That’s...” Merry shook her head, and blinked. Yes, a bunch of times. “...not true. I could hear you. But even if I had responded, it wasn’t like anything was going to change.”

“You don’t have to say it like that,” Ranta complained. “I was worried about you.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Don’t try to act tough. It’s just awkward if you tell me not to worry when you’re looking like that.”

“I’m perfectly—”

Her vision blurred, catching her off guard. Tears. She was about ready to cry.

“I’m fine.” Merry shut her eyes tight. “I’m okay.” “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re so not cute.” “You’ve got that right.”

“Seriously, your face is the only thing you’ve got going for you. Your personality is terrible.”

“You’re the last person I want to hear that from.”

“No, no, no. Even the great Ranta-sama is nothing compared to you,” Ranta told her. “I couldn’t possibly compare to your level of spitefulness. That stubbornness could end a love that lasted a hundred years. You’ve perfected the art of repelling others.”

“Be as repelled as you want. It’d be convenient for me.”

Ranta clicked his tongue. He didn’t stop there, though; he did it a second and third time. There was nothing more annoying.

But, thanks to that, she was feeling a little less afraid. The fear would bubble back up in no time, and she’d be right back where she started, but now she could think more clearly than before. This was how weak fear could make people. If, right now, she were offered conditions that were less terrible than her worst imaginings, she’d easily submit. Merry had no confidence that she’d be able to cling to her pride.

That was why she had been hoping to die before they made her fall into true despair. It would be easier.

Or perhaps, even if she fell as far as she could possibly fall, she should still cling to her life?

Whichever she chose, she would probably never see any of her comrades other than Ranta again.

Yume. Shihoru. We had finally managed to become friends. Kuzaku, I’m sorry for what I did to you.

Haruhiro. Haru...

Save me.

That was the one thing she couldn’t say. She couldn’t think it, either. She was already feeling weak, and it would only make her more fragile.

She didn’t want Ranta to see that. When they did whatever it was they were going to do, she didn’t want Ranta—didn’t want one of her comrades to see it. However, that wasn’t Merry’s choice to make. In order to make her taste the most bitter humiliation, they might defile her right in front of Ranta. She had to be prepared for that.

She would have to bear it without crying and screaming. She’d have to just endure. She’d have to make them think tormenting her any more would be boring. That was the one way Merry could resist. If that was all there was, that was what she would do.

Don’t tremble. Don’t look down. Keep your chin up.

There was a goblin petting a big black wolf by the mouth of the cave. She couldn’t see that middle-aged man. There were a number of orcs milling about. Undead, too. There was a pack of black wolves. Lots of cat-like creatures.

Fog. White fog.

She burned all of it into her retinas.

Merry would die here. Probably in the worst way imaginable. But she wouldn’t curse the fact she had ever lived, and she wouldn’t reject it. No matter what happened, that was the one thing she wouldn’t do.

“Ranta.” “...Huh?”

“Thanks,” she said. “For your concern.”

“You id... D-Don’t be like that, girl. I’m not...” “‘Girl’?” she asked archly.

“S-Sorry, Merry-san...”

It was so silly, she smiled, even if only a little.

Honestly, she wished she could thank the rest of their comrades, too. She wanted to thank them all properly, in her own words. To tell them they were all important to her, and she loved them. But that wish wasn’t going to come true. So, at the very least, she’d thank Ranta.

Honestly, Ranta had done more to offend her than anything else. She could never like him as a person, but he wasn’t all bad, she understood that he had some strengths, too. Even if she didn’t like him, he was an irreplaceable comrade.

Merry spoke. “I have a favor to ask.” “Oh? Sure...................... Wh-What?”

“No matter what happens, don’t pity me. I want to stay strong, but I may lose. If that happens, you can mock me, but whatever you do, don’t pity me.”

“Got it,” Ranta replied instantly. “I swear to Lord Skullhell. I won’t pity my comrades. No matter what happens, okay?......... Merry.”

“What?”

“Don’t give up. Because I won’t give up. As long as we’re still alive, we haven’t lost.”

“Sure.” Merry couldn’t bring herself to think like Ranta. However, she felt it was important to respect his resolve. She wanted to respect it.

She hoped that Ranta would survive somehow. Knowing Ranta, he

wouldn’t care about appearances, and he’d probably plead for his life or do whatever it took to keep on living.

She sat up straight. Puffed out her chest. The ropes bit into her skin, painfully. That was no big deal. This didn’t even take perseverance to endure. She put the horrific things she’d imagined out of her mind. When she tried to think happy thoughts, it made her want to cry.

No, she thought. I want to be with everyone a little longer. This can’t be the end. I don’t want this.

But when she remembered that someone like her had been allowed to meet such wonderful comrades, and had spent good times and bad times with them, she reconsidered. She realized she should be grateful for what she’d had.

Her life hadn’t been in vain. She’d been blessed. Even if it ended in a horrific way, that didn’t make the time she had spent with her comrades worthless.

The moment that all of the wolves and cat-like creatures turned to look in the same direction at once, Merry sensed that the time had finally come.

What had happened? What was about to happen? Merry didn’t know, but it was nothing ordinary. That was the one thing she did know.

The goblin stood up. The big black wolf, on the other hand, lay prone. The rest of the black wolves emulated the big one. The cat-like creatures opened their eyes wide, breathing shallowly through their noses. They looked tense. The orcs and undead spread their legs, putting their hands on their hips, and bent at the waist to bow their heads a little.

That middle-aged man appeared from beyond the fog. He was bringing someone with him. Two people, actually.

It was hard to see them, but one was rather large. That figure had a massive body. Was it an orc? Even if it was, it was way too big. Was it a giant or something?

The other was human, or perhaps an undead. That figure wasn’t much taller or shorter than the middle-aged man, so it probably wasn’t an orc.

In the time they were approaching, up until she could make out what they looked like, Merry would never have imagined they both were orcs. One was easily two and a half meters tall, while the other was maybe only one hundred and eighty centimeters tall. Because one of the two was so massive, it made the other look almost delicate in comparison.

It seemed orcs had a custom of dying their body hair in vibrant colors.

However, these two were different. They both had wavy hair that was black to the point of being glossy.

The small orc was probably the older of the two. It wasn’t that the orc looked old; he just exuded an aura of calmness.

It’s that orc, Merry thought.

The one the black wolves, orcs, and undead respected wasn’t the big one.

She’d never seen an orc like that small one before. His skin had a gray undertone, his eyes were a piercing orange, both of which were distinctive, but the most noticeable thing was that outfit.

It was a deep blue fabric with a pattern of silver flowers scattered around, but what would it be called? Was it a kimono? Whatever it was, it was beautifully tailored. It was a sleeved outfit that opened in the front, which went down to just below his knees and was tied shut with a thin belt. Instead of shoes, he wore something like sandals. The long object he wore at his belt seemed to be a weapon, but you wouldn’t notice it if you weren’t looking closely. The beasts and the orcs clearly both feared and respected him.

Despite that, he didn’t have a particularly imposing or oppressive air about him. He was calm and quiet, and yet, at the same time, though he was short for an orc, he was big. His presence had a sense of grandeur about it. No, of broadness, perhaps. Or depth. That felt like another appropriate way to describe it.

Looking at them again, the massive orc seemed to be trying to imitate the little one. It was clear that he admired the smaller orc, and couldn’t help but to emulate his dress and manner.

That little orc, he was the boss. In this group which was composed of orcs, undead, goblins, beasts, and even humans, that orc was the central figure, the one who had brought them all together.

The next thing she knew, the middle-aged man and the two orcs had come up right next to Merry and Ranta.

Then there was the sudden sound of flapping wings, surprising Merry.

Something flew down out of the fogbound skies.

A bird. Not a little one. A bird of prey. An eagle, perhaps?

One black feather fell from those powerful, flapping wings and fell to the ground in front of Merry’s knees.

The great black eagle landed on the little orc’s shoulder. Though he was

little for an orc, he still had broad enough shoulders that such a large bird could use them as a perch. His chest was thick, and his arms and neck were fat. Even so, he gave off the impression of being lithe rather than strong.

“Jumbo.” The middle-aged man gestured towards Merry and Ranta with his chin, then said something incomprehensible. It was probably in the orcish language.

The small orc nodded. His orange eyes were fixed on Merry. His pupils seemed to shine. It might not have been the time or place for such thoughts, but Merry found them beautiful. The whites of his eyes were as pale as a baby’s.

In her head, she understood that orcs were an intelligent race, in no way lesser than humans. However, she had to acknowledge that she’d been prejudiced against them, viewing them as savage and frightening. That was why Merry was so taken aback.

She couldn’t find an appropriate expression for it, but if she were to use the closest word she could think of, that orc seemed noble. He had a grace about him, a refinement. That said, it was still too early to start hoping he wouldn’t do anything rough. That would be nothing more than baseless optimism.

“My name is—” Even though the orc’s mouth was moving, it was hard for her to believe it was his voice. Of course it was. He was speaking human words, and was entirely too fluent at the language. Besides, it was a low and smooth, if somewhat throaty, voice and very pleasant to listen to. “—Jumbo. First, let me ask you, what are your names?”

“Huh...?” Ranta looked to Merry, then back to Jumbo, twisted his head to the side in confusion, and then looked to the middle-aged man. When the middle-aged man shrugged, Ranta finally accepted reality. “...R-R-Ranta. No, I mean, my name is Ranta. No, th-the name’s... Ranta... you got that?”

“And you?” Jumbo asked, looking to Merry.

Merry took a single breath. Her entire body was numb. She needed to pull herself together.

“I’m Merry.”

“Ranta. Merry. It would seem that you two are not of the village.” “...What is the village, anyway?” Merry asked.

“Heyyyyyy, Merry, don’t say more than you have to...” Ranta shook his head, cursing. “Yeah, that’s right! We don’t know what village you’re talking

about. We have no clue what it is, so you can be damn sure we’re not from it! So what?!”

“Arabakian volunteer soldiers, then?” Jumbo asked. “Or citizens of Vele?”

Vele was most likely the free city of Vele. There was trade between Alterna and Vele. However, though Vele was a human city state, they also engaged in trade with orcs and the undead. They were neutral, you could say.

If they claimed to be citizens of Vele, Jumbo might release Merry and Ranta. If he believed them, that was. If he didn’t see through the lie.

“We’re volunteer soldiers.” Merry glared at Jumbo. “What of it?”

Ranta had already told the middle-aged man that they were volunteer soldiers. It was hard to imagine that detail hadn’t been passed on to Jumbo. Jumbo must have known. If he was asking a question he knew the answer to, it was like a trap. If he used such boring tricks, he might be more shallow than she’d thought.

Or maybe not.

“Takasagi.” Jumbo looked at Merry again as he asked. “Is this true?” “Yeah,” the middle-aged man whose name was Takasagi replied. “Onsa

found their Volunteer Soldier Corps badges. I can’t see why they’d be carrying around fake ones. There’s no doubt about it. No telling what ties they have to the village, though. The guys attacking us are volunteer soldiers, too, so they’re still suspicious.”

“...Suspicious, huh? You wound me.” Ranta snorted derisively. If his hands hadn’t been bound behind his back, he’d probably have crossed his arms haughtily. “Whaaaat? You’re thinking we’re spies, or something? Let me tell you, I wouldn’t do anything that lame. If I wanted to take you down, I’d do it in a straight-up fight!”

“A straight-up fight, huh...” Takasagi grinned as the pipe he held between his lips shook. “You’re not good enough. Not only would you not be able to take out our boss, I doubt you could even beat me.”

“Hey, don’t underestimate me, old man!” Ranta’s veins were pulsing, his eyebrows raised, and his entire face distorted. Did he think he was being intimidating? Was he stupid?

He was breathing way too heavily from his nose. What was this idiot thinking, getting so worked up? Was he not thinking at all? Normally, that would be impossible, but with this guy, maybe it was. He was just that stupid.

“I’m a volunteer soldier superstar!” Ranta hollered. “I’m the supernova of talent they call the Ultra Idaten! Idaten...?! Well, whatever. Anyway, when they talk about the special swordsman known as the Otherdimensional God of Destruction, they’re talking about me, Ranta-sama! Like I’d lose to some old man! Try gauging your opponents a little better before you talk, pal!”

“Cut it out,” Merry said urgently. “You’re—”

“Shut up! You don’t talk now!” Ranta shouted at Merry, raising his voice even louder. “You think you’re so hot because you managed to capture us with a big gang! You cowards couldn’t handle a fight one-on-one! Who do you think you’re fooling with your, ‘I doubt you could even beat me’! Say that once we’ve actually fought! If you’re just running your mouth when we haven’t even fought, anyone can do that! If you’re that confident, then face me!”

“He has a point.” Jumbo nodded without changing his expression. “Takasagi. You were the one who said you could win. Face him.”

“Good grief, that’ll teach me to open my big mouth, huh...” Takasagi turned back and looked towards the cave. “Onsa, could you have the nyaas undo his ropes?”

When Onsa the goblin pursed his lips and whistled, the cat-like creatures swarmed over Ranta and undid his ropes in short order.

Those creatures, they were called nyaas? It wasn’t a very inventive name, but it was cute. They looked like they were trying so hard when they moved their little hands, and that—No, no. This was no time to be admiring the adorable nyaas.

“All right!” Ranta jumped up, twisted his head from side to side, and stretched his arms and legs. “Don’t let my hyper-awesome skills blow you away. By the way, you wouldn’t fight with weapons while I’m unarmed, right? If you want to settle this with our fists, I don’t mind, though. I’d be down for that, too. I’m a master of everything, after all.”

A short time later, three nyaas brought Ranta’s RIPer from the cave. The nyaas straining themselves as they rushed over carrying the sword were adorable, of course, but it went without saying that Merry didn’t have the presence of mind to properly savor their cuteness. In fact, her jaw had dropped.

Rather than choosing to watch things play out, the flow of events had left Merry behind. She blamed Ranta. Ranta was an idiot. Everything was stupid

Ranta’s fault.

The black wolves and nyaas, the orcs, the undead, and Jumbo and the big orc all moved, making space for the duel. Merry could only sit there in silence.

Perhaps this was Ranta’s plan. Whatever the case, Ranta was free now.

He’d even gotten his weapon back. Which meant maybe it wasn’t impossible to escape...?

When Ranta glanced over in Merry’s direction, it made her want to think, I knew it—but it was just that, a single glance, and then Ranta turned to face Takasagi, drawing RIPer from its sheathe. He dropped the sheathe right there. She was embarrassed that, even for that one moment, she had started to think, I knew it.

“Okay!” Ranta slapped his own face with his left hand. “I’m good to go!

Come at me any way you like, old man Takasagi!”

“I can’t tell if you’re serious, or just desperate.” Takasagi chewed on his pipe, slowly drawing the katana on his back with his right hand. “If you like, I’ll let you move first.”

“You sure?” Ranta asked. “I don’t want you regretting it later.”

“Don’t hesitate to take me up on it. I’ve probably lived twice as long as you. If you want, I’ll give you an even bigger handicap.”

“The wisdom of age, is that it?” Ranta lowered his hips a little, readying his sword. “Well, I’ll gladly take the right to strike first. Don’t go down on the first blow. I don’t get to do this often, so make it fun for me.”

“You talk a good game.”

“I’ll show you I’m more than just talk soon enough.”

Could it be...? This seemed like the only possibility, but could it be that Ranta thought he could beat Takasagi? That he could win the duel, and, in winning it, drag some sort of compromise out of them?

Takasagi had taken a wound to his left eye, or had something else wrong with it, and was seemingly blind on that side. On top of that, he probably wasn’t hiding his right arm. He had one eye, and one arm. He was middle- aged, too, so Ranta could probably handle him. If Ranta was thinking that— and knowing Ranta, he probably was, which worried her—it was frivolous of him.

Takasagi slowly raised his katana, pointing the tip towards Ranta. The moment he did, Ranta stopped moving entirely. He probably couldn’t move.

The damp air suddenly began to feel chilly.

Merry’s eyes were drawn to Takasagi’s sword, unable to focus on anything else. If Ranta were in the same state as Merry was, it was over. The battle was decided. He couldn’t possibly win.

“I won’t be hypnotized,” Ranta muttered to himself.

In the next moment, he burst forward with Leap Out. With the force of an eruption, he shot to the left of Takasagi. From there, he used Hatred.

Takasagi swayed to avoid it.

Ranta used Leap Out again to go to Takasagi’s right side, and swinging his sword in a figure-eight motion, he used Slice. Takasagi easily dodged this one, too.

Ranta fought in a very un-Ranta-like manner, barely using his voice as he pressed the attack. His feet never stopped, and he kept on moving and attacking.

Merry didn’t want to praise Ranta, but the way he moved around with such bewildering speed as he fought had to be rather troublesome for his opponent. When fighting that way, Ranta seemed to gain an abnormal strength. On top of that, he wasn’t just moving around randomly; he was always trying to attack from an angle that would make it hard to block. It was like he was an entirely different person from the one who had been in the party when Merry first joined. Ranta had gotten so much stronger now that he was almost unrecognizable. However, there was always someone better.

Even for Merry, a priest, it was clear to see. For now, at least, no matter how earnestly Ranta stretched out his hand, he could never reach Takasagi. Ranta could jump to the right and swing, or spring to the left and thrust,

and Takasagi would always be facing him, ready to evade it with one or two steps. Takasagi could see it. He had completely seen through Ranta’s unorthodox fighting style.

It was no exaggeration to say that Ranta was no match for him. Ranta, more than anyone, must have been aware of the gap in their power. Despite that, Ranta kept attacking. Incorrigibly, he repeated his meaningless attacks.

Just stop it, Merry wanted to say. But what would happen if he did?

Don’t give up, Ranta had said to Merry. Because I won’t give up, he’d said.

This was very much a battle where, if he gave up, it was all over. Though he definitely couldn’t win, he had to keep fighting so that it didn’t end. That

was why Ranta was fighting so desperately. Until his last bit of energy was spent, or until Takasagi cut him down, Ranta wouldn’t give up.

“...Go for it.” Merry forced the words out. “Go Ranta! Go!” “Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” Ranta yelled.

Ranta wasn’t responding to Merry. He was focused on the battle, and probably couldn’t hear her voice. But the sharpness of Ranta’s moves, along with his speed, went up a notch. It might have been an illusion, but that was how it looked to Merry.

If he stepped into his strikes by a few more centimeters, his sword reached that much farther. Takasagi’s evasive maneuvers were getting larger, too. Up until a moment ago, he had been lazily evading, but now it was a little different. Occasionally his feet moved a little faster, becoming hurried. He had less room for error than before.

“That’s not the best you’ve got, is it?!” Merry called. “You can give it more! There’s no way you can’t!”

This wasn’t true at all. Ranta was giving it all, going past his limits. Even though she knew that, all she could do was cheer him on like this. It made her hate how nasty she was. Her comrade was burning out the very fire of his life, so why couldn’t she offer him some kinder words?

“This time...!” Suddenly, as if he’d been blown away, Ranta moved back several meters. It was Exhaust. He’d put distance between them, but what was he planning to do with it?

Takasagi stayed put, as if waiting to see what he could do.

“Secret technique...” Ranta held RIPer in both hands, his entire body swaying. “Hachioji Beta Cleansing... No, forget that, it needs a cooler name... Thousand Arms Kannon Boddhisatva... No, wait, that’s no good either...

Fragrance Bitter... Huh? That’s off, too. It’s not special attack-y, uhh... Ultimate Skyboy...?”

Merry was appalled. What did the name matter? It didn’t even need one. In the end, Ranta was Ranta. An idiot. No matter where he went, a true idiot was always an idiot.

Takasagi was gaping, too.

Wait, was that what Ranta had been aiming for...?

“Gotcha!” Ranta used Leap Out to charge at Takasagi. He leapt in from outside his swinging range, thrusting with all his might. Anger. “Take that!”

Takasagi’s legs were frozen stiff. He couldn’t dodge.

This might be it.

For the first time, Takasagi used his katana, and— “Ungh!” He simply swept Ranta’s sword aside.

“Gwuh?!” Just from having his sword deflected, Ranta lost his balance. Takasagi finally went on the attack. Or rather, he settled it with one swing.

If it could even be called that.

Takasagi used his katana like it was his own arm, wrapping it around Ranta’s sword. RIPer spun around as it flew around five meters before falling to the ground.

“You’ve got spunk.” Takasagi pressed the tip of his sword against Ranta’s forehead. “But that’s all you’ve got. Well, ten years from now, I’ll have weakened with age, so maybe you would’ve won then. Right now, it’s just not gonna happen.”

It was over.

It was all over.

So easily.

Merry smiled wryly, all her strength having left her. How very like Ranta.

But, well, for Ranta, he’d done the best he probably could.

That was right. He’d done well. Merry hadn’t done anything; she hadn’t been able to; so she was in no position to gripe.

“You think this is over?” Ranta said in his trembling voice, and she was moved a little.

Not yet. Even now, Ranta hadn’t given up. He was an idiot.

An idiot, but incredible. He was great. As his comrade, she felt proud, though only a little. The corners of her eyes started to get hot.

If Ranta hadn’t kowtowed at light speed, she might have teared up.

Merry thought her eyes were going to fall out of her skull. She’d never felt such a nonsensical shock before.

“...Huh...?” Takasagi asked.

“You got me! Please, make me your disciple! I’ll carry your sandals, wash your sandals, polish your sandals, whatever you want, so please! Do you like strong men?! I loooove them! Me, I wanna be strong! Seriously, seriously, I do! I’ve been looking for a way to, you could say, always searching, and, at last, I’ve finally what I need! You, Takasagi-sensei! I’ve found you! I mean, you’re way too strong, and I was so much more powerless before you than I thought I would be, I fell in love! Please, please, take me on as your disciple!

I’ll start out as your gofer if I have to! I’m begging you! Pleeeeaaaase!” “Listen, I’m not taking disciples...” Takasagi frowned, resting the flat side

of his katana on his left shoulder with a sigh. “Besides, don’t you get it? We don’t serve any king. But, nonetheless, people from Arabakia are still our enemy. There’s no way we can get along. Don’t you know what that means? Let’s assume for a moment that I do make you my disciple. It’ll never happen, but if I did, you’d be betraying Arabakia.”

“That’s A-OK!”

“...Huh?”

“Nah, Sensei, Master, I think you may be misunderstanding here, so I’ll tell you, okay? I just became a volunteer soldier because things turned out that way. It’s not like I’ve sworn my body and soul to the Kingdom of Arabakia. I’ve never once felt like doing so. I just happened to find myself here in Grimgar, flat broke, and they said they’d cover my personal expenses for the time being if I became a volunteer soldier trainee, and I didn’t seem to have any other options at the time, so I did. Well, in a way, you could say they tricked me into it, yeah? That’s how I got made into a volunteer soldier!”

“I was a volunteer soldier myself, so I can see where you’re coming from,” said Takasagi.

“Wow! You’re a former volunteer soldier, Sensei? Master?” “I’m not your sensei or master, though...”

“How’d you end up working for Commander Jumbo, then?” Ranta asked eagerly. “I’d love to hear about that, too.”

“It’s a long story...” Takasagi clicked his tongue lightly. “You’re a smooth operator, you know that? I almost went along with you there, just now.”

“Darn straight! Me, I’ve got a silver tongue! I’ve got the gift of the gab! I talk all the time, so people always say I’m annoying! But, you know what?! My heart is hot! My soul is full! I wanna be your disciple to the max, Takasagi-sensei! I seriously wanna get stronger, for real! The way I am now

—a volunteer soldier, doing the same things as anyone else—I can’t expect to grow! It just hit me!”

“...What just hit you?”

“That, there, that’s the point! Or rather, this place is!” Ranta spun around, looking to Jumbo, the big orc, the goblins, the black wolves, and more. “You, a human, are working under Commander Jumbo! You’ve gotta have a damn

good reason! But, more than that, I feel something here! To be frank, that’s what attracts me! If I become one of you, maybe I can find something?!

Maybe the path that I, in my quest to become the greatest and most invincible fighter to ever live, need to follow has been here all along?!”

“Okay, tell me if I’ve got this right,” Takasagi said. “Setting the bit about becoming my disciple aside, you want to quit being a volunteer soldier, and join Forgan, even if it’s as a petty underling.”

“Uhh, Forgan...?”

“Forgo,” Jumbo said, looking at the giant black eagle on his shoulder. “That’s the name of my respected friend. In human language, it means ‘black eagle.’ I suppose that would make Forgan the Black Eagle Band.”

“There!” Ranta nodded, as if Jumbo had said exactly the right thing. “That’s it! Please, let me into Forgan, I’m begging you! I’ll do the cleaning, the laundry, the cooking, the chores, the anything...! Pile all the work you want on me, because I’ll still keep pushing upwards! I’m confident I’ve got the talent, the potential, the guts, the nerve, the cajones, the Jones! Makes you wonder who this Jones guy is, but, seriously, I’m seriously super serious about all this!”

As Ranta rubbed his head against the ground repeatedly and begged, Merry couldn’t decide if he really was seriously super serious about this, or if this was a way of begging for his life, or if he was just spouting nonsense.

Any of them seemed possible, and she didn’t think any of them was okay.

Maybe Merry had misjudged him. Ranta might have been a bigger piece of trash than she had ever thought.

She wanted to cry now, but for a different reason than before.

As his comrade, she felt ashamed of Ranta. She was hopelessly ashamed that anything he’d done had moved her heart even the slightest.

“Well, regardless, if that’s the case...” Takasagi returned his katana to its sheathe. “I’m not the one who makes that decision. It’s Jumbo. Jumbo makes the decisions. The rest of us follow them. That’s the rule in Forgan, after all.”

Forgo the great black eagle let out a shrill cry, then took off from Jumbo’s shoulder.

Jumbo walked over. It was like there was a light breeze around him. He was quiet, coolly approaching, then stopping in front of Ranta, then of all things, crouching down.

“Ranta,” said Jumbo.

“Ye—” Ranta straightened his back, kneeling formally. “Yes, sir!” “I am not fond of needless killing.”

“Yes, sir! Huh? Sir?!”

“Of course, we sometimes kill those who oppose us,” said Jumbo. “We steal sometimes, too. We hurt people. Because some among our companions are of a special nature, you see. There are also those who will slander Forgan, claiming we are cruel and merciless. I won’t deny it. However, I, personally, do not take lives needlessly.”

“...Y-Yes, sir.”

“If you wish to become my companion, I will welcome you.”

“Yes, sir. ...Huh?! Welcome me?! You mean... you’ll make me your comrade?!”

“If that is what you wish,” said Jumbo. “At present, Takasagi is the only human among my companions, but it will only mean taking on a second.

That, too, could prove entertaining.” “I... I did it?!”

“However,” Jumbo added. “H-Howev...?!”

“What will that woman do?” Jumbo gestured to Merry—or rather, he turned his orange eyes towards her. “Will that woman become my companion along with you? Is that what she wishes?”

8.    Pride

In the village, there were four samurai houses. The foremost was the House of Nigi, followed by the House of Shigano, House of Ganata, and House of Mishio in that order. These, with the addition of the House of Katsurai, who managed the onmitsu spies, and the House of Shuro, who carried on the tradition of necromancy, made up the Six Houses.

There was a young man. He was of the House of Mishio, but in the village, women were the ones to inherit the house, and it was the matrilineal line which most mattered. Boys, no matter who they were born to, did not carry on a family name. Only by marrying a girl with a family name could a boy finally be recognized as a man, and he would take the name of his wife.

This young man was unmarried. Furthermore, his mother was not the head of the Mishio, and he was not seen to have an aptitude for the sword, something which decided the value of those born to a samurai family. He was an attractive man, but his beautiful countenance actually made him an object of scorn. His inborn kindness, which he showed to all equally, only encouraged further mockery, and it showed no signs of letting up.

His name was Tatsuru.

Nigi Arara, born as the eldest daughter of the head of the House of Nigi, had, for as far back as she could remember, always watched Tatsuru, who was a year older than her, with a sense of irritation.

Those of the four samurai houses were, from a young age, put through training that, even by the standards of samurai houses, was especially strict. Being roughly the same age, it was normal for them to shed sweat, and sometimes blood, together, but Tatsuru was, to put it kindly, seen as unfit, and, to be more blunt about the situation, the subject of bullying.

The treatment he received would have made anyone gloomy. It wouldn’t

have been surprising if he turned cynical. However, Tatsuru wasn’t like that. Even when they jeered at him, insulted him to his face, and left him out of things, it never warped him. He would work even harder at his training, trying, somehow, to make them acknowledge him. He was ever polite, bowing his head to ask for guidance even at a young age, and he never complained that he was dissatisfied or that things were unfair.

It is of special note that, when he spoke to others, he always looked the other person straight in the eye. Though humble, he was not servile. His face was also not all that beautiful. But he was a youth whose actions, and whose very heart, were beautiful.

That made it all the more irritating for Arara. Tatsuru was of mediocre skill, to be sure, but by training more than others, he was well on his way to becoming a viable samurai. To Arara’s eyes, the contempt she saw directed at Tatsuru was clearly unfair. And Tatsuru accepted it gracefully.

Arara had her position as the heir to the House of Nigi to consider, so she was hesitant to criticize everyone loudly for what she saw. However, when she was fourteen, she could bear it no longer, and consulted her uncle about it.

“Uncle, you know of Tatsuru of the House of Mishio,” said Arara. “He is one year older than me. Why is he the way he is? It frustrates me to no end.”

“It frustrates you, does it?” her uncle asked. “Even so, he is not one so significant that you, who will one day be head of the House of Nigi, need concern yourself with him.”

“I am not concerned for him. It simply angers me.”

“Why would the treatment of one such as he anger you? Ah—”

Arara’s father was of the House of Ganata, and her uncle, who was eight years younger than him, was an eccentric who had stayed single even past the age of thirty. He had wandered freely since he was young, did not have properly, and wore a strange pair of glasses that he had obtained from somewhere.

Arara had a great fondness for this vagrant uncle who was a man of meager talent—unlike his brother, who, despite being a man, had come to be called a war god, and who had been able to marry the head of the House of Nigi. Honestly, if she were asked to think of a relative, this uncle’s face would come to mind before her own parents. Her uncle, in turn, adored Arara.

“I see, I see,” her uncle said. “Arara, you find this young boy not entirely disagreeable, do you?”

“What are you saying, Uncle?! I am merely saying that I find it unbearable to watch that man act so weak, not objecting in the face of everyone’s unfair treatment of him!”

“We could say that you are righteously indignant, then. In that case, could you not simply speak to everyone about it, and admonish that boy?”

“As daughter of the family head, I can do no such thing.”

“Hmm. I suppose, as daughter of the family head, you cannot always say what you wish to say. What an uncomfortable position to be in. You have it hard, too, having had to be born into the House of Nigi.”

“I take pride in being my mother and father’s child!” she retorted. “I see, I see. Good girl.”

“How dare you pat a girl’s head!”

“Sorry, sorry. I’ll not do it again, so please forgive your inconsiderate uncle. If you came to hate me, I couldn’t go on living.”

“I could never hate you, Uncle!” Arara said. “Besides, I never said to stop.

No...”

Before being Arara’s parents, her mother and father were the heads of the foremost of the four samurai houses. Their relationship was not that of parent and child, it was that of master and disciple. Furthermore, the heads of the House of Nigi were the strictest of masters, and Arara needed to be a loyal and earnest disciple.

Her uncle could be irresponsible, but he was a warm person. He had hugged her often when she was young, and even now would pat her on the back and head. It embarrassed her when he did it, but she felt a kinship with him, and it made her happy.

Her uncle was the one person Arara could tell anything. There were many subjects upon which she could only share her true feelings with him.

That was why, at seventeen, while walking with her uncle who had returned once more from his travels, Arara secretly confessed to him.

“Uncle, it seems... I’m in love with Tatsuru.”

“I see.” Her uncle smiled. “That’s splendid. My niece has finally discovered love. Yes, splendid indeed.”

“Do you think that we can be wed?” Arara asked. “That was sudden!”

Arara was aware that it would be difficult.

First of all, she had to consider Tatsuru’s feelings. Though they had trained together as fellow children of the four samurai houses, Arara had never spoken to Tatsuru on a personal level. Marriages were not always the idea of those who were to be wed, so that, in and of itself, might not be an obstacle, but if Tatsuru refused, that would be the end of it. Even if Arara proposed a marriage, and Tatsuru accepted, there was still the issue of whether the heads of the House of Nigi would allow it. In fact, that was perhaps the biggest problem.

It was a harsh way to put it, but Tatsuru was a hanger-on of the House of Mishio. Being the eldest daughter of the House of Nigi, Arara had considerable influence. It would be a simple matter to force Tatsuru to her will, but if the heads of the house, her parents, were not in favor, she couldn’t move ahead with it.

There had been offers of marriage for her going back years. If the heads of the house agreed to one, no matter how Arara might feel, or what she might say, she would be wedded off on the spot.

The current candidates were the second and third sons of the House of Shigano, the eldest son of the House of Ganata, and the eldest son of the House of Mishio. Rather than it being hard to decide which of these four was the best prospect, in Arara’s eyes they were all more or less the same. Their ages and physique varied a little, but in a fight with Arara, they might or might not win. None of them were extraordinarily talented.

The heads of the house had pondered the matter, but they’d been having trouble deciding on a marriage partner for their daughter.

Until she’d realized her yearning for Tatsuru, Arara had had no interest in marriage. She would have been fine with any of them. She’d figured she would marry who she was told, bear children, then raise and train them. That was fine. She would merely do her duty. That was a given to her.

If she had not fallen in love, she would never have agonized over it. Once she began to, though, she couldn’t stay put.

Not long after telling her uncle about her love, Arara dragged Tatsuru into a secluded place where no one could see them, and revealed her emotions to him like she might deliver a letter of challenge.

“Tatsuru-sama, I am in love with you. Please, marry me!”

“Whuh...?” Tatsuru stared at her vacantly, his mouth agape for some time,

but then responded he wanted to think over the matter properly, and politely asked her to wait seven days for his reply.

Arara waited.

She slept well at night, but it occupied her mind and kept her from focusing on her training during the days, so she was scolded by the heads of the house. Even when she tried to pull herself back together, thoughts about what she would do if he gave her a less-than-favorable response, or what to do if he didn’t respond after seven days kept filling her mind, and there was nothing she could do about it.

After precisely seven days had passed, Tatsuru came to the House of Nigi.

Arara thought he was there to see her, but that wasn’t the case. It turned out that Tatsuru had requested a meeting with her parents, the heads of the house. Her parents, unaware of the situation, had happened to be free at the time, and so agreed to meet with him.

When Tatsuru had walked up in front of the heads, he suddenly prostrated himself before them. “I humbly, humbly beseech you to allow me to marry Arara-sama.”

In an instant, not just the House of Nigi, but the entire village became as noisy as a nest of wasps that had just been poked. At first, they thought Tatsuru had fallen for Arara, and was getting ahead of himself, but that wasn’t the truth of the matter.

If she left things to run their course, Tatsuru might find his head on the end of a spear, so Arara hurriedly explained to the heads of the house. That it was her who had fallen for Tatsuru, and her who had proposed they marry.

Tatsuru had, after seven days of deep thought, consented to this, and had felt it was only polite he go to request it himself.

After all, marriages were an important issue between families. Arara was the eldest daughter of the House of Nigi, foremost among the four samurai houses, so it was only appropriate he address the matter with the heads first. This was all so very like Tatsuru. He’d followed the proper protocol. He was right in what he was doing, but he could have said a word to Arara about doing it first.

But that was good. This part of him was one of the things that Arara found so agreeable about Tatsuru. At this point, she could think of marrying no one else. She would have no other man. To begin with, she had never, not even once, thought of anyone but Tatsuru as a man. Tatsuru was the only one.

Tatsuru was her one and only.

The heads seemed unwilling to even consider it, but Arara went on bended knee and tried to persuade them. She bowed her head, too. She pleaded with them to let her marry Tatsuru.

Naturally, part of it was that she wanted to save Tatsuru, who was not only harshly criticized by the people of the village, having stones thrown at him openly rather than just being spoken ill of behind his back, but who was also reprimanded by his parents and siblings. Tatsuru wasn’t just isolated; he was persecuted. Many samurai were bloodthirsty. If she left him be, there could well be an incident of bloodshed.

“My lady! No, Mother! I beg of you! I beg of you, let this happen! I, Arara, ask you this one selfish favor, hoping you will allow me to be wed to Tatsuru-sama!”

“It cannot be,” her mother said.

“That is why I am here, asking you to bend on that!” “I will not bend.”

“You’re so hardheaded!”

“How dare you call the head of this house hardheaded!”

“What’s wrong with calling a hardheaded person hardheaded?!” she shouted.

“If you cannot understand what I am saying, then you are the one who is being hardheaded! You will stay in a cave until you’ve cooled your head!”

It was the first time in all her life that Arara had argued with the head of the house. She was sealed in a cave and expected to repent. She spent five days in the lightless cave, without eating or drinking, and was finally released. Arara was completely exhausted, so she hoped that maybe the head of the house would relent and indulge her daughter’s wishes.

Arara’s hope of that was shattered to pieces.

“...Mother, please... I beg you, let me marry Tatsuru-sama...”

“It is not possible,” her mother said. “It seems you’ve not reflected on your actions enough. Back to the cave with you.”

She must be joking, thought Arara. If she were returned to the cave like this, she’d die.

But it was no joke. By the orders of the head of the house, Arara was thrown into the cave once more.

The second time she was released after three days, she had only survived

because of the training her body and spirit had been put through, and because she had swallowed her pride to lap up what little moisture there was on the cave walls.

She had to consider that the head of the house might be serious. If she wouldn’t do as she was told, whether she was her daughter or not, the head might not mind seeing her die. Or perhaps she was confident that, if she was ready to kill her, she could make her daughter obey her.

Arara had no intention of doing as she was told. She couldn’t let the head of the house kill her, though. She couldn’t be with Tatsuru-sama if she was dead, after all.

If Arara stayed stubborn and lost her life for it, Tatsuru would grieve. He might take his own life. That wasn’t what Arara wanted.

So Arara gave up on appealing directly to the heads of the house. On the surface, she returned to training in the sword as before, but she and Tatsuru had many secret trysts. Trysts though they might have been, neither of the two was particularly skilled with words. They would just talk just a little, and then exchange letters.

On the orders of the head of the house, the onmitsu’s nyaas were monitoring them, so even managing that much took a great deal of effort. They had to dispose of the letters immediately after reading them. If they kept them hidden somewhere, and the skillful and clever nyaas went looking, they might find them.

The head of the house would eventually move forward with another marriage for her. What would she do then? If push came to shove, the head of the house would do what it took to make her comply. Even if she refused, would she be able to reject it? Wouldn’t the head of the house get her way in the end?

Even as Tatsuru was isolated and without support, suffering incredible harassment, unending slander, and straight-up abuse, nothing ever clouded his eyes. What was more, he saw it as inevitable, and so he didn’t resent anyone for it, and repeatedly told Arara she mustn’t resent anyone, either.

It seemed to Arara that he spoke from the heart when he said these things. Her respect for him deepened, as did her love. When it got to be too much for her, she let slip to her uncle that she wanted to just elope with him.

“If that is what you want to do, I won’t stop you, but I would feel a wee bit uneasy, sending you two out into the unfamiliar outside world alone,” he

said. “Let me guide you wherever you would like to go.” “Uncle, I am serious about this.”

“As am I. Well, if the truth came to light, I am sure your parents would kill me, but if it were for your sake, I would gladly give my life.”

“I’ll believe you.”

“Sure, go ahead, go ahead.”

Half because her uncle had instigated her to do so, Arara brought up the idea of eloping during one of her secret meetings with Tatsuru. Surely, Tatsuru wouldn’t refuse her.

Arara was wrong.

“We mustn’t, Arara-sama,” he said. “Eloping is out of the question. I can’t abide it. Even if we escaped successfully, it would bring ill fortune to all involved.”

“...But, Tatsuru-sama. Is there any way but eloping that we can be together in this life? The head of the house will find a man for me soon. Even if I fight against it, I’ll have no say in the matter...”

“The truth is, I do have a plan.”

As she listened to him, she learned that Tatsuru had been formulating a plan, and training day and night so that he might execute it. In fact, compared to the time when Arara was sealed in the cave, Tatsuru’s body had grown much larger, and more manly.

According to Tatsuru, this was all a result of his lack of skill, and if he had attained a level of prowess that even the heads of her house were forced to recognize, they wouldn’t have opposed their marriage.

Indeed, a samurai had to be strong. Strength was not a thing to be flaunted, but if it was never demonstrated, others wouldn’t know about it. Tatsuru explained that he had taken the wrong path, and gotten the order of things incorrect. To gain the head of the house’s approval, he first needed to become a samurai worthy of her. It had been a mistake to ask for her hand before that.

“But how will you make everyone acknowledge you?” Arara asked. “By striking down a powerful foe, of course.”

“You don’t mean...”

“Indeed I do, Arara-sama. Recently, there is only one foe who has made the people of the village tremble in fear.”

“You would slay Arnold the ‘Bloody Whirlwind’?”

The village didn’t stay in one location. Ever since they’d lost their homeland, it had been their custom to perform an augury, and to move the village on the day it was determined it would be auspicious to do so. In addition, everyone was accomplished at using the labyrinthine terrain of Thousand Valley to their advantage, so it was not often that the village was threatened by external enemies.

Neither the undead who had infested the domain of the former Kingdom of Ishmar, nor the orcs who had built their Kingdom of Vangish in the domain of the former Kingdom of Nananka, went out of their way to strike the village. Of course, that was because the villagers were always on alert, and they spent their days tirelessly working to improve themselves. It was better to be prepared than to regret it later.

The village was always prepared, and the undead and orcs who had destroyed their homeland knew this, too, so they didn’t attack.

It wasn’t that the village had let their guards down. Around half a year earlier, in the dead of night, that double-armed undead, Arnold, had broken though the defenses with brute force and entered the village.

There had been seven dead, twenty-three injured.

The undead who had swung his four katanas around, cutting down the samurai one after another, and chopping the flesh golems that served the necromancers to ribbons, had clearly been enjoying the slaughter from the center of the bloody whirlwind he formed around himself. Shockingly, that undead had come alone. Just one person had entered the village, taken many lives, and injured so many more, then shook off the samurai of the four houses and the onmitsu that pursued him.

It went without saying that this had been a painful incident for the village.

It had been an incredible tragedy, and a great humiliation.

They had soon identified the undead responsible. He was a member of the Black Eagle Band, Forgan, led by Jumbo the Orc, and his name was Arnold. It was said he was among the strongest members of Forgan.

Forgan operated across a fairly wide area, including the former domains of the kingdoms of Ishmar, Nananka, and Arabakia. Their true nature remained unknown, but they were seen as a drifting group of refugees that came into conflict with factions everywhere.

That said, they were no mere refugees. They had been involved in a large number of bloody incidents, and that included some battles that were on a

large enough scale that it would be fair to call them wars.

They had taken their fair share of casualties, too, but their renown had only grown with time. It was said that the king of the new Kingdom of Vangish had once asked Jumbo to serve under him, but he’d been summarily rejected. It had been a harsh blow to his prestige. Out of resentment, the king sent his army in an attempt to subdue them. However, though the force from Vangish had put up a valiant fight, and outnumbered Forgan many times over, they’d been wiped out. Instead of restoring his authority, the king had fallen from power.

The strange thing was that Arnold had come into the village alone. The onmitsu had been able to determine that Forgan had made camp at a location only around ten kilometers from the village. However, Arnold hadn’t continued to attack the village. In fact, he didn’t seem interested in the village at all.

Would they take revenge, or watch and wait?

The heads of the six houses held a joint council, and came to an answer.

They would strengthen their security, then take revenge with ambushes and surprise attacks, and see what Forgan did.

They immediately formed and dispatched a retribution force of samurai, onmitsu, and necromancers, but Forgan split up as if they had anticipated this, making them hard to capture.

If the enemy was aware they had set out to attack them, the village might be attacked instead. Though they had beefed up the defenses, with the retribution force outside the village’s combat potential was reduced by that much. The retribution force had to consider the possibility of being caught in an ambush, too.

The path that the village had walked was by no means flat, and they had faced a number of crises in the past. It wasn’t as if the current heads of the six houses had never faced an emergency that had threatened their survival before. However, the people of the village, including the heads of the six houses, had never known war.

Long ago, their homelands had struggled against the great army of the No- Life King, fought valiantly, been struck down, and miserably destroyed. That was why they now so thoroughly avoided war. Because of that, they had set themselves up in a way that no one would attack them. That was the major policy of the village.

The heads of the six houses made the decision to call back the retribution force, thicken their patrols, and remain in a state of readiness for battle. There were those who criticized this as weakness, but everyone obeyed.

Forgan didn’t seem to do anything particularly special. They were definitely in Thousand Valley, but they were quiet, as if they were avoiding contact with the people of the village.

A month passed like that, then two, then three... Soon, it had been half a year.

It had gotten to the point that the majority view was that maybe Forgan had no intention of fighting. Still, they couldn’t let their guards down.

Arnold’s rampage through the village had taken place shortly after the second time Arara had been sealed in the cave. The whole village was on edge, so perhaps Tatsuru was serving as an outlet for some of that.

If Tatsuru could slay Arnold, no one could ignore that accomplishment.

However, it might also be the trigger that started a war.

Even if she didn’t always want to be, Arara was the eldest daughter of the House of Nigi. That concern immediately crossed her mind, but she was hesitant to use it as a reason to persuade Tatsuru to stop. It was hard to tell him the enemy was too great for him, too. She didn’t want to wound Tatsuru’s pride.

“I think we should elope after all, Tatsuru,” Arara said. “If you are with me, I have no need of anything else. Even if it means throwing everything else away, I would have no regrets.”

“I don’t want to throw anything away, Arara-sama,” said Tatsuru. “The heads of your house are especially concerned for your well-being. If we tread on the hearts of your parents by eloping, we will surely come to regret it later.”

“Those two only care about the house and the village!”

“No. You’re wrong, Arara-sama. The heads of your house are people, too.

However, as the ones charged with leading the greatest of the four samurai houses, they must bite back their tears and kill their own selfish desires. Do you not understand that?!”

When he scolded her, she was overcome. Tatsuru’s consideration and brave resolve touched her heart.

Even so, she shouldn’t let him go. No matter how he trained, Tatsuru couldn’t become a master swordsman. He might make for an experienced

instructor someday, but he could aspire to no more. Having been born with potential befitting the eldest child of the House of Nigi, Arara had an almost perfect grasp of Tatsuru’s talent, and his limits. Short of being blessed with incredibly good fortune, Tatsuru couldn’t defeat Arnold the Bloody Whirlwind.

Though she knew this, Arara didn’t stop him. No, she couldn’t stop him. He was a samurai warrior, risking his life to accomplish something. Even if it was rash, or reckless, she could not ask a samurai to bend his will.

Because she loved him, that was the one thing she could not do.

Because that was the way of the samurai warrior, there were times when the heads of the house would issue high-handed orders for them to stop. But as long as those above them didn’t hold them back, allowing no room for disagreement, a samurai never stopped.

The following day, Tatsuru left the village, never to return...