Chapter 18: The Arrogant Queen of Aventurine III

Early next morning, the party left the desolate town on horseback, arriving in the royal capital of Aventurine as the sun rose overhead. The capital extended to the middle of the largest mountain in the vicinity. Without cutting into the shape of the mountain, the townscape sprawled across its gently sloping surface. At the highest level stood Sand Castle, its towering walls overlooking the city. Bustling marketplaces, people overflowing with vitality, and the tumult of pedestrians going to and fro. Seeing this city, Shuou’s general impression of capitals crumbled to dust.

As they climbed the slope on horseback, Miyahi timidly posed a question to Hinokaji. “Hey… Is this really the royal capital?”

“…When I visited in my youth, it was somewhat livelier. This is almost an abandoned city. If we were told the capital had been raided yesterday, I’d believe it.”

On the main street leading from the center of the city to the castle, stores lined the road on either side, but most were bereft of goods and unmanned. Occasionally, the group passed residents, their eyes lifeless, their faces and arms withering away. Their staggering forms were eerie, appearing devoid of sanity.

A tepid wind blew past them. Winter Fortress might have been freezing, but as one traveled farther eastward into Aventurine, the air grew more humid. Though still plenty cold, Shuou would feel comfortable sleeping outdoors with no possessions in this temperature.

When they finally arrived at the castle, Shuou noticed scars all across the large walls, as if something had gouged these places. No longer maintaining their original forms, large chunks were missing from the evenly spaced crenellations. According to Prince Shue, Murakumo had left these scars during a past invasion, indicating just how fierce the war had been. Even in the current era, the wall remained unrepaired due to orders from Murakumo, its current state proclaiming Aventurine as a defeated nation.

Passing through two gates and entering the castle, Shuou’s group was stunned. In contrast to the desolate world outside, the hall just inside the castle was radiantly beautiful, numerous ornaments of gold and silver – dazzling to the eye – on display. Claiming he needed time to prepare, Prince Shue disappeared into the depths of the castle. In his stead, a lady-in-waiting guided the party into a small room leading to the audience chamber.

“Wait here until you’re called from inside,” the lady-in-waiting said shortly, standing at the entrance.

The interior of the small room was even more opulent than the entrance hall. The lights were Moonstones quarried in crystalline shapes. A chandelier inlaid with gold and precious gemstones hung from the ceiling. Finally, as if to intimidate visitors, expensive armor and treasured swords decorated the walls.

Sitting in a leather chair, Miyahi rocked her body back and forth, a strained smile plastered across her face. “Goodness… This is nerve-racking.”

“You’re scared?” Shuou asked in a composed voice.

“Not really, but… It’s strange for people like us to have an audience with the queen. Now that I’m here and being shown this room, I’ve suddenly realized how out of place I am.”

Hinokaji remained silent. At a glance, he seemed composed, but upon closer inspection, sweat seeped from his forehead.

“Have a little patience,” he instructed his granddaughter, his lips dry. “And no matter what anyone says, keep quiet. I’ll be the one to answer the queen.”

Shortly afterwards, a voice summoned Shuou’s group from outside. As the door opened, the audience chamber beyond so overwhelmed Shuou that he forgot to breathe. The extravagant ornaments he’d seen up until now had simply been a prelude, he realized. Beneath a ceiling that reached towards the sky, the chamber was wide enough on all sides for dozens of people to race on horseback.

Red carpet thick enough to trip over covered the floor, and the statues lining either side were so large that Shuou couldn’t fathom how they’d been carried into the chamber. Additionally, a number of enormous ornamentations had been crammed into the room. If a thief laid eyes on this sight, he would likely drown in his own saliva.

However, what truly drew Shuou’s eye was the colossal hourglass behind the throne. Reaching towards the ceiling, the large, elaborately crafted glass vessel contained enough sand to form a small mountain. Shuou couldn’t tell if the hourglass was merely decorative or for actual use. Still, he wondered how one would turn the sand upside down when used for its original purpose.

With each step, the figure of the queen lying across her wide throne became increasingly clear. Fair-skinned and slender, her ample chest nearly spilled out of the open, white coveralls she wore. Her dark brown hair – cut short around her shoulders – was glossy enough to reflect light, and her lengthy nails were coated with black polish. Though her long, narrow eyes resembled her brother’s, the sharp glint of her irises looked nothing like Prince Shue’s. On the back of her left hand, a Miracrystal the color of gold dust glittered with an overwhelming sense of presence, proving her to be the leader of this nation.

Taking the lead, Hinokaji bowed on hands and knees, his forehead touching the ground. Shuou and Miyahi followed suit.

“First, allow me to thank you for traveling so far,” the queen’s hard voice rang out. “I am Faye Aventurine, bearer of Sandstone and sovereign of my namesake, which rules over the far east.”

Following a short pause, Hinokaji spoke with quiet dignity. “We are very grateful to have received Her Majesty’s invitation, of which we are un—”

Before he could finish speaking, the queen silenced him with a few cold words. “That’s enough. You needn’t say anything more.”

Without thinking, Shuou’s group looked up. Suddenly, the prince came into view, standing close to the queen. On the inner left side, a group of what appeared to be vassals formed a line, their stern faces turned towards Shuou’s group.

Glancing at the bewildered Hinokaji, the queen donned a bewitching smile, snapping her fingers loudly. As if on cue, a door to the inner right opened, a dense crowd of people appearing from there. They were run-of-the-mill common folk, clearly out of place in dress and appearance. Shuou had seen people wearing similar clothes in the town they’d stopped by partway through their journey. In all likelihood, these were Aventurine peasants.

Noticing Shuou’s group, their eyes shone, their voices rising in admiration.

“Oh, it truly is… It truly is as the queen told us!” shouted an old, emaciated man.

“Your Majesty, what in the world is—”

When Hinokaji tried standing to his feet, a few soldiers waiting in the rear raced over to them, forcing Shuou’s group into submission. Before any of them could decide whether or not to resist, the trio had their faces pressed against the ground, their arms bound.

“H-huh!?” cried Shuou. “What are you doing? Get away from me!”

From above, two soldiers pressed down on his neck with as much weight as possible. With his arms pinned down as well, he was in no position to move.

“Your Majesty!” the prince called from above, his voice baffled. “What is the meaning of this!?”

“Keep your mouth shut, Shue,” said the queen. “Everything is going according to plan. Even you won’t be allowed to interfere in this matter.”

The prince gulped, saying nothing else.

“Lift their heads.”

At the queen’s command, a soldier grabbed Shuou’s hair, yanking him upwards. Hinokaji and Miyahi received the same treatment. Having been held down in a poor location, Hinokaji let out an excruciating cough.

Wringing out his breath, an anguished Hinokaji made an appeal to the queen. “T-these actions… won’t go unnoticed. Are you planning to rebel against Murakumo?”

“Rebellion?” the queen asked, remaining composed. “You exaggerate. This is a justifiable protest.”

“What the hell are you thinking…? You’ve deceived Murakumo Squires, committing acts of barbarism against them! Do you understand what that means!?”

Shuou witnessed the moment in which the smiling queen’s expression froze.

“Silence, commoner,” she said. “Lecturing the bearer of Sandstone is the ultimate act of barbarism from one who lacks adequate fear. Guards!”

Responding to the queen’s angry voice, five Brights walked towards Shuou’s group. Three of them were the ones who’d accompanied the prince thus far. Looking down on Hinokaji with smirks plastered across their faces, they each lifted a leg, kicking down in unison. Face, stomach, back. Dirty boots kicked and stomped Hinokaji’s aged body.

“Gramps!”

“Stop!”

Alongside Miyahi, Shuou screamed as well, struggling to stop the guards. However, because his arms were pinned down, he only managed a small pitch forward. Collapsing, his posture worsened even further. As the red carpet stung his cheek, the scene unfolded horizontally before Shuou, leaving him speechless.

At first, Shuou couldn’t understand what he was seeing. Watching Hinokaji’s beatdown, the people of Aventurine clapped, laughed, and salivated with crazed enthusiasm. Hands raised and expressions frantic, they cheered on the Brights torturing an old man, their eyes darker than a valley floor at night.

Why?

Shuou didn’t understand. How could these onlookers rejoice over seeing someone’s one-sided torment? Concurrently, he heard Hinokaji’s agonized weeping and the onlookers’ derisive laughter. These two sounds, which shouldn’t have overlapped, assaulted his eardrums.

What’s so funny?

He didn’t understand. Unable to deal with the recurring, unidentified discomfort in his chest, Shuou forced himself to swallow the gastric fluids welling up in his throat. Even now, Shuou’s eye perceived this loathsome scene in great detail, delivering it to his brain. Bloodshot eyes that forgot to even blink. Mouths spewing vile words, scattering droplets of saliva. Forgetting to close his eye, their figures rooted him in place.

“That’s enough,” said the queen. “I can’t have him dying on us now.”

Once she’d restrained them, the Brights finally stopped kicking Hinokaji.

“Gramps! Gramps!”

Struggling desperately, Miyahi called out to Hinokaji. His body didn’t move in the slightest. He’d vomited blood, and bruises had appeared on his face, changing the color of his skin. In such a terrible state, it would be a blessing if he survived.

“Let’s move onto why I brought you here,” said the queen.

Rising from her throne, she turned her long, narrow eyes on Shuou’s group. She glared at them, her gaze high.

With Hinokaji’s survival uncertain, Miyahi raged about, half-crazed. Locked in place, Shuou stared at a single point, his head scraping the floor. Though none of them were in a position to listen properly, the queen spoke without concern.

“You are aware that Murakumo demands food from our country as a tax. They take rice, vegetables, alcohol, and various other goods. Yet in their avarice, Murakumo’s collection has increased in volume each year, finally becoming so severe that my beloved people are starving. These onlookers are representatives from various towns and villages that are suffering from lack of sustenance.”

That’s why there are so many elderly people, Shuou realized vaguely, still in a state of bewilderment.

“Wanting to do something about this, I wrote a personal letter asking for a reduction in taxes,” the queen continued. “But Murakumo never responded. It was humiliating, but I’m not concerned for myself. So what should I do for my people who can’t prepare enough sustenance to last the winter? Even if one screams their discontent at the world, food doesn’t fall from the sky.”

“That’s right, that’s right!”

Excited shouts of agreement echoed throughout the room.

“For the sake of my people, I have decided to take strong action against the tyrannical Murakumo,” announced the queen. “I will take two of the Squires here today as hostages. The third one will personally deliver my handwritten message to someone in a position of authority. If I do not receive a proper response, I will torture the hostages before publicly executing them. Now, who should act as my messenger…?”

The queen’s gaze slid over them.

“That strange looking fellow will suffice,” she said. “Can you hear me?”

In all likelihood, this arrogant queen was speaking to Shuou. Even so, he had no intention of raising his head or answering.

“How dare you ignore Her Majesty’s address!” someone cried.

Shuou recognized the voice cursing him.

This voice.

It was the male Bright with the particularly sharp glint in his eye. Since arriving at Winter Fortress, he’d not stopped glaring at Shuou’s group, adopting an overbearing attitude. Though Shuou didn’t know his name, he remembered the man’s unpleasant gaze and sarcastic tone.

“Hey, are you listening?” the man asked. “Is he too scared to speak?”

The queen and this Bright were addressing Shuou. He needed to respond in some manner. Discomfort still coiled around him, he finally managed to look up. Rather than the queen, he saw the sole of a boot. Whether intentional or coincidental, the Bright’s left foot kicked Shuou hard in the lower jaw. Defenseless, his head rocked back and forth, his consciousness momentarily dimming.

No… Not now.

To maintain his presence of mind, Shuou bit down on his lower lip. His canine teeth overwrote the fresh pain of tearing skin, pulling back his fading consciousness.

“Ah… Guh…”

In his unfocused vision, flickering sparks scattered in every direction.

“Release him.”

In response to the queen’s words, the soldiers restraining Shuou’s arms let him go. Using his free hands, Shuou supported himself on all fours, the fresh blood spilling from his bitten lip soaking into the red carpet.

“You heard my instructions,” said the queen. “I won’t repeat myself. Deliver this message to Murakumo as quickly as possible. Your time limit will be exactly seven days from now.”

Throwing a golden tube containing a letter in front of Shuou, the queen calmly raised her left hand high into the air, Sandstone emitting an ochre light. In response to what happened next, everyone present gasped. Roaring, the sand in the enormous hourglass behind the throne rose upward. It was a strange spectacle, as if a waterfall had begun flowing backwards. Passing through the narrow tube in the center, the sand fulfilled its original purpose, counting time moment by moment.

“The royal family’s seven day clock is accurate,” said the queen. “If you don’t deliver a positive message by the time each grain of sand reaches the bottom, these hostages will receive merciless executions. Now, leave for Murakumo.”

Glancing at the letter lying on the floor, Shuou looked at the two people restrained beside him. Unconscious, Hinokaji didn’t budge. Still pinned down, Miyahi had a sword placed against the base of her neck.  Shuou’s thoughts, not working at even a tenth of their normal rate, urged him to stand.

If I give this letter to someone of high station in Murakumo…

These two would return. Together, everyone would be able to go back to Winter Fortress.

Grabbing the letter without much strength, Shuou stood. Holding his bleeding lip, he looked up at the throne and locked eyes with the queen, who’d placed her left hand on her jaw, flaunting Sandstone. Her dark brown, almond eyes cunningly hid her emotions. Yet to Shuou, she appeared to be laughing, enjoying this from the bottom of her heart.

***

“What have you done? What the hell have you done!?”

Prince Shue shouted louder than he had in his entire life.

“Quiet, Shue. Your shouting will ruin the solemn atmosphere I’ve worked so hard to create.”

Faye – Queen of Aventurine – answered him calmly.

“Before I left, you asked me to summon people who worked in the field, claiming it was to maintain a good relationship with Murakumo. Were those all lies? You even readied food for a banquet. I agreed to be your messenger because I saw those preparations.”

“It was a half-truth,” Faye said with a smile. “I had the food and banquet prepared for those village leaders. They enjoyed their victuals, laughing foolishly all the while.”

“How can you be so calm? Do you not understand what you’ve done? You’ve harmed citizens – soldiers, no less – of our suzerain state. And in exchange for hostages, you’ve forced unreasonable demands upon one of their number.”

Not even half an hour had passed since the young man who’d been forced to deliver the message had left the audience chamber. In the meantime, the assembled leaders of towns and villages had departed, the two remaining Murakumo Squires taken to prison.

The audience chamber had fallen silent. Only the incessant, powdery cascade of sand falling into the hourglass reached Shue’s ears. Once their vassals had departed, he’d begun voicing his objections to his elder sister’s actions. Even so, Faye didn’t seem to mind.

“They might be soldiers,” she said, “but in the end, they’re still commoners.”

“That’s not the problem. You know that Aventurine’s royal family is allowed to exist only by the grace of Murakumo. If their higher ups of learn of this incident, there’s no telling what kind of retribution we might incur. Did you even consider that possibility when taking these actions?”

Since the incident, Shue hadn’t stopped sweating. From childhood onward, Faye had been selfish and uninhibited of personality. However, since becoming the ruler of a country, she’d known which lines never to cross, Shue had thought. Even after seeing such a cruel, meaningless scene unfold before him, the prince still longed to be proven right.

“You think we’ll incur retribution?” asked Faye. “I doubt Murakumo will have anything to say about this.”

“And what basis do you have for such a statement?”

Like a child confessing to a prank, Faye spoke without any hesitance. “I never paid our taxes.”

“Huh? What are you say—”

“I never gave Murakumo the stipulated food from the fall harvest.”

Faye’s words rendered Shue speechless. “Ah…”

After Aventurine had lost the war, Murakumo had allowed their royal family to survive. As part of that foundational treaty, Aventurine delivered their harvests to Murakumo twice a year. Across many decades, Aventurine had dutifully fulfilled this obligation. As such, they maintained their pride as a kingdom while remaining under the protection of a powerful state. However, Faye had admitted to breaking that promise as if it were nothing.

“There was something I wanted to buy,” explained Faye. “But since I didn’t have any money on hand, I secretly sold the food our people had gathered.”

“You can’t be serious…”

Compared to previous years, the harvest from last year until now hadn’t met expectations. Even so, Aventurine had to pay a set amount to Murakumo. Even if that meant imposing hardship on the people, they’d needed to gather more food as a tax. When they still hadn’t reached their goal, the government had conducted an even harsher collection, the prince knew. Yet he hadn’t known the truth of those taxes in the slightest. It had simply been a means to fulfill his sister’s materialistic desires. To finance her own luxury, Faye had levied aggressive collections, pushing the blame onto Murakumo.

“Lord Gwen of Murakumo is an intelligent man,” said Faye. “He must know about the postponed delivery. I don’t want to incur the wrath of Murakumo either. To alleviate the peoples’ growing dissatisfaction, I invited the leaders of various towns and villages here, showing them a play of me degrading the hateful Murakumo. Upon returning to their villages, they’ll talk about what happened here today.

“As my reputation improves, the peoples’ discontentment will be directed towards Murakumo even if I collect more taxes. Rather than making a big deal out of this incident, Lord Gwen will want to settle things amicably. As a result, everything will be fine so long as we can pay the stipulated taxes. For that purpose, even if we have Murakumo play the role of villain, that should be within the permissible range.”

Faye’s smile reminded Shue of a childhood memory, when she’d laughed while sticking a snake in his clothes. That childish innocence fanned the prince’s unease to new heights.

“On my way to Winter Fortress, I saw the peoples’ lives my own eyes,” he said. “They’re emaciated, barely surviving each day. If you needlessly tax them any further, a great number will die of starvation.”

“We have plenty of commoners. And anyway, turbid stones have no value.”

Shue swallowed the words he was about to say. If he revealed all his thoughts right now, Faye would surely be displeased. He needed to remain calm. To better grasp the current situation, he needed to draw out more information from his sister.

“What are the contents of the letter you gave to that Squire?” he asked.

“I wrote an apology for the postponed delivery of food and asked for the stipulated amount to be cut in half.”

“There’s no way Murakumo will agree to—”

“I know that,” said Faye, laughing as if teasing her brother. “Murakumo has never accepted a request from Aventurine. They won’t start now.”

“Then why?”

Faye spun her finger around in the air. “There’s no guarantee that my letter will reach the dignitaries of Murakumo. No one will take notice of a single Squire claiming to have received a message from a monarch. Even if the higher ups do believe him, they’ll continue to ignore me as they have up ’til now. And did you take in his appearance? His hair is the color of dark rain clouds. He’s probably not even a pure Murakumo citizen. Perhaps he’s a former mercenary who wandered in from somewhere… Either way, I assume he’s thinking of a plan to flee right now. In summation, no matter what I wrote in that latter, nothing will change the outcome. It doesn’t matter.”

“Then let’s release those two captive Squires at once.”

In response to Shue’s suggestion, Faye shook her head, expression tightening. “That won’t do. As I announced, they will be executed before the people after the seven day deadline. Those Squires will be the perfect spectacle to distract the lowborn populace from their suffering.”

I misjudged her.

Shue had believed that his blood-related sister’s vices were contained to her uninhibited, somewhat forceful nature. However, she was actually a wily fox who cunningly pursued her own gain.

“Will you listen to me, Faye?” Shue asked.

His words no longer held any sway. He had no means of overturning this situation. His sister had inherited the monarch’s stone, which he’d given up without a fight. As that reality sank into him, he could already feel himself abandoning hope.

“Don’t worry,” said Faye. “I’ll give the captives enough food and water to keep them alive. Until I kill them, at least.”

She’s no longer human, Shue thought, seeing his sister declare something so cruel without a single change in expression. Mustering his last bit of courage, he addressed the sister no longer within his reach.

“You’re a fool,” he spat.

Faye glared at her brother, who persisted in his feeble resistance. “Yes, I’m a fool. But while we remain obsequious to Murakumo, I can’t even restore our castle to my liking. I’m only allowed to keep a meager number of soldiers to protect our home and less than ten Brights. Apart from Aventurine, where could one find such a wretched monarch? I’m a fool, but I’m also pitiable. If I can’t decorate the exterior to my liking, I’ll make the interior more lavish than anywhere in the world. I’ll buy everything I want, and everything will be to my satisfaction. I should be allowed that much freedom.”

“Even if the price of that freedom is the starvation and death of our people?”

“You call me foolish, but did you see the people gathered here today? Those worthless commoners swarmed around a comforting life, drunkenly thoughtless. If I’m a fool, the people are even more stupid and irredeemable. I’m not hypocritical enough to show love for them.”

Shue thought about his ancestors who had led modest but stable regimes. As he stared at the throne upon which generations of monarchs had sat, Faye spoke in a lively voice, mocking him.

“Do you regret abandoning the throne? It’s too late now. Instead of troubling yourself with such thoughts, hurry up and produce heirs. Since I have no intention of marrying anyone, our bloodline will die out at this rate. Will my heir be your grandchild or one who comes after? I don’t know when my life will come to an end. We need to have a candidate lined up.”

Shue no longer had the energy to reply. As he looked down, furrowing his brow, one of Faye’s personal guards entered the throne room.

“Your Majesty,” he said. “The aforementioned item has just arrived.”

“Ah, yes! Bring it here at once.”

“Of course.”

Seeing the item brought in by the servants, Shue was aghast. “…What is this?”

It was an enormous, golden statue the size of three adults. Horns grew from its head, its expression contorted ominously, and it’s belly swelled like a barrel.

“The craftsmanship is as wonderful as I’d heard,” said Faye. “Look closely, Shue. It’s a demonic god from the southern Belikeen. The people there actually worship ogres as gods. How fascinating. As promised, hand over the other half of the money.”

After giving her Bright that order, Faye observed the golden statue of the demonic god as if it were a delicacy.

“You can’t have done all this to buy a single—”

As he spoke, Shue feared hearing the answer. In accordance with his wishes, Faye dodged the issue, smiling like a young girl handed a new stuffed animal.

“You must be tired from your long journey,” she said. “Please go rest in your room. Seven days should be a sufficient amount of time.”

“Faye…”

The queen had implicitly ordered her personal guard to keep Shue under house arrest. Reflecting upon his own powerlessness, Shue left the throne room at the urging of the Brights. From behind, Faye’s voice was lively and carefree, indicating that she didn’t understand the gravity of her actions.

***

Woken by the sound of someone calling out to him, Hinokaji opened his heavy eyelids. Gradually, his blurry vision cleared, his beloved granddaughter coming into view. Tears in her eyes, she clung to him. The pain of trying to open his mouth made Hinokaji curl into a ball. Spitting out blood, he finally managed to take a deep breath.

“Where are we…?” he asked.

“We’re in a dungeon,” said Miyahi. “They treated you horribly, Gramps, and you wouldn’t respond to my calls. I was so worried…”

From behind, Hinokaji could hear Miyahi crying. How long had passed since he’d heard his granddaughter sound so dispirited? When remembering her deceased parents, she’d cried faintly like this. He could remember her weeping as though it were yesterday.

“You’re a big girl now,” said Hinokaji. “Don’t cry.”

In response to his blunt rebuke, Miyahi clenched her teeth, holding back tears. She needed to remain calm. Tears wouldn’t change their situation in the slightest.

As Hinokaji sat up, an unconscious cry of pain escaped him. His eyelids were swollen, his mouth bore numerous cuts, and an agonizing pressure continuously assaulted his chest and stomach. He was likely covered in bruises beneath his clothes.

“The lad…” said Hinokaji. “What happened to Shuou?”

“He—”

Miyahi told Hinokaji about the events following his loss of consciousness, explaining Shuou’s orders and the conditions of their release.

Hinokaji sighed. “So that’s what happened.”

“Hey, we’ll be okay… right? We’ll be able to leave, won’t we?”

Countless words of consolation came to mind. Nonetheless, Hinokaji decided not to provide his granddaughter with escapist hope as a stopgap measure.

“It’s not going to be easy,” he said.

Miyahi’s face turned so pale, it was painful to look at. “Really…?”

“First of all, we don’t even know if the lad will obey the queen’s instructions.”

Though Shuou had been burdened with their lives, he’d only known Hinokaji and Miyahi for about a month. Despite being comrades, they weren’t old acquaintances, and since meeting, they hadn’t shared many experiences together. They’d merely lived in the same building for a short period of time. Hinokaji didn’t think that such a person would come running to their aid.

“And even if the lad returns to the fortress in one piece and reports on this matter, I doubt that the higher ups will take him seriously,” Hinokaji concluded.

Corrin Tar was the current supervisor of Winter Fortress. Based what Hinokaji knew of the man, he cared deeply about his own self-preservation despite having been demoted to his current position. At the behest of a letter, Corrin Tar had sent Squires to the untrustworthy Aventurine without proper investigation. Hinokaji could easily imagine the man not wanting his superiors to know about that. If things went poorly, a dreadful fate could befall Shuou upon returning.

Even if Corrin Tar did report this affair to the military’s upper echelons, Hinokaji couldn’t foresee a bright future for himself and his granddaughter. The mental image of a great country like Murakumo ardently seeking to reclaim two measly commoners was laughable.

Furthermore, the attitude of Aventurine’s queen bothered Hinokaji. After all she’d done, the queen was using Shuou to publicize her actions. When the current queen had inherited the throne, Hinokaji had heard more than a few rumors about her difficult personality. Even so, she wouldn’t invite a situation that would place her in a quandary, he’d thought. If she’d taken these actions with prospects of victory, there was no hope left. In all likelihood, they were…

“We’re sacrifices, aren’t we?” Hinokaji grumbled unthinkingly.

Though Miyahi had started to calm down, Hinokaji’s words made the girl uneasy again, tears welling up in her eyes. “Gramps…”

“Don’t make that face. You never know what might happen in this world. I did plenty of reckless things in my youth, but I still lived to be an old man.”

Placing a hand on Miyahi’s head, Hinokaji roughly patted her soft, black hair. “One way or another, things will work out,” he continued. “That lad is surprisingly bold. He’ll return to the fortress and deliver the report for us.”

“…Yeah.”

In his head, he thought the opposite. Shuou was still a young man. Since Hinokaji had decided to bring him along, he bore responsibility for involving Shuou in this situation. Thus, even if the young man did nothing to save them, Hinokaji was in no position to resent him. Even so, he didn’t want his granddaughter to die this way. She’d leave this world without experiencing anything worthwhile, without joy or a family of her own. Moreover, thinking of his wife losing both family members at the same time left Hinokaji racked with guilt.

Inside the cold, dimly lit prison, the two huddled together, closing their eyes. Withstanding the pain afflicted on him, Hinokaji breathed in short, repeated spams. Regrets for everything that had occurred up ‘til now swirled in his chest. The past was immutable. And yet, the word if repeated endlessly in his mind.

When he swallowed, his salvia tasted of bitter blood.

***

Rain poured down upon the Alabaster Road stretching from the royal capital of Aventurine to Winter Fortress. Alone, Shuou ran down the evening path. Pelted by rainwater, he pressed forward single-mindedly. In his mind, he vacillated about what to do next. Unable to reach a decision, he headed towards the base.

For the time being.

Ironically, the boring days he’d spent training in the fortress allowed him to maintain a good pace. And due to the rainfall, the Alabaster Road, which emanated light when dampened, formed a line of illumination leading him to the fortress.

Confusion, discomfort, rage, and hesitation stirred as chaos in his chest. The tide of fate had drawn him into a lifeless prison, trapping him there. Upon thinking he’d finally been released, that queen had compelled him to act as her servant, forcing him to shoulder the lives of other people. Ever since she’d thrown him out of the castle, he’d felt nauseated, the contents of his stomach welling up in his throat.

That scene.

He couldn’t stop thinking about the faces of those who’d watched the defenseless Hinokaji’s assault, laughing in utter delight.

I feel sick.

Shuou hadn’t fled Amane’s side because he’d wanted to see something so cruel. Like water bursting from a dam, indecision flooded his thoughts. Yet contrary to his emotions, his legs continued racing towards Winter Fortress without hesitation.

Suddenly, his foot caught in a crack in the road. Because he was so absorbed in running, he couldn’t break his fall, his body hurled down the rain-soaked Alabaster Road.

“Ugh…”

Light pain coursed throughout his entire body. He wasn’t so wounded that he couldn’t stand, but he still couldn’t bring himself to rise. Pelted by the increasingly heavy rain, he saw the dark Abyssal Forest sprawling before him. The tree branches swaying in the wind and rain looked like hands beckoning him to return home.

I’ll run away.

Despite being impossible for ordinary people, Shuou could traverse the Gray Forest. At any time of his choosing, he had the right to turn his back on this loathsome, absurd world of humans.

And what will happen if I run away? he asked himself.

Would Hinokaji and Miyahi be slain, as the queen had said?

Who gives a shit!?

If something took place within the world, yet he didn’t see it, didn’t hear it for himself, it would be as if nothing had ever happened to him. The Gray Forest – a land in which life and death intermingled – didn’t reject Shuou. In the forest, no one would look at him oddly. He would never feel lonely amidst a large group of people. The absurdity of having unreasonable demands thrust upon him would cease to exist.

He wanted to return, to go home to his own comfortable world. His thoughts leaned towards his own escape and self-preservation.

Extending a hand to pick up the luggage sack he’d dropped, he felt a sense of displacement upon touching something long and solid inside the soft bag. Thrusting his hand inside the sack, he pulled out a Murakumo blade. Unconsciously, he remembered the face of Hinokaji, who’d promised to teach him how to wield a sword. At the same time, the face of Miyahi – who’d instructed him on how to get along with the other Squires – also flashed across his mind.

“Damn it!” he cried out, slamming his clenched fist into the ground.

From now on, no matter where he went, no matter what he did, he would remember them. Remember the lives he’d abandoned.

Informing them should be enough. The country will take care of the rest.

Trying to convince himself of this, Shuou strengthened his pessimistic resolve. Standing on weak legs, he shouldered the dampened luggage sack, holding the heavy Murakumo blade in a tight grip. The cold, wintry rain rapidly drained his body of warmth. As he shoulders shook, the sensation in his fingertips grew more and more dull.

I’ll run.

At the very least, he’d be able to preserve his body heat while doing so. Though lacking strength, he did move his legs forward, lingering discomfort still coiled viscously around his stomach.

Original text: https://ncode.syosetu.com/n4006r/11/