Chapter 38: Spring II

Once Shuou had left, Amue sighed in front of her adjutant. “He doesn’t have an avaricious bone in his body…”

“That’s just his nature,” replied Kazahina, a certain pride in her expression. “But what will you do with those two?”

“As requested, I’ll clear their debts. Upon their return to the military, I’ll arrange to have them stationed in the south. There, I’ll have them report to me on Shuou’s movements. If I agree to forgive what they drank in exchange, they won’t be able to refuse.”

“I don’t think they’re fit to use as spies,” said Kazahina, expressing her concern.

Of the two former Squires, Saburi was a slothful glutton. Likewise, Hario was easily swayed by greed and had a jealous nature rooted in cynicism. Neither of them were suited to delicate missions.

“I won’t make them do anything too excessive,” said Amue. “I’ll merely have them secretly report upon anything they see or hear.”

“You still haven’t given up on Shuou?”

Looking out the window, Amue’s lips tightened. “Though he doesn’t wish to be in our custody, there are other ways of maintaining a relationship with him. Most importantly, he’s gained the princess’s strong trust. Going forward, having someone close to the monarch who feels indebted to us will prove beneficial. Also, it seems as though Sa’salia is plotting something based on Amai’s suggestions. Likely, Shuou’s assignment to the southern frontlines is a result of that man manipulating things behind the scenes.”

Honestly, Amai’s quick succession of Canaria’s position felt anticlimactic. Despite having reformed to some degree, Sa’salia had an incredibly difficult personality. Since she’d promoted a virtual stranger to the position closest to her, their ulterior motives must have aligned in some way.

Crossing her arms, Amue cast her gaze downwards. “Regardless, he will be out of our reach for some time. If he remains safe, we will see each other again someday. Letting go of your precious disciple so soon would be lonely, wouldn’t it?”

Kazahina’s sad expression contained a hint of embarrassment. “Of course. But I also feel as though we’ll meet again. Besides, I’ve stockpiled enough “items” to distract me from my loneliness.”

Hearing her adjutant’s unbefitting laugh, Amue inwardly cradled her head.

“Regarding our next move…” the duchess began.

As soon as the topic changed to work-related matters, Kazahina straightened, standing tall.

“I’m going to distance myself from the capital for a while, citing poor health as my reason,” finished Amue.

“In that case—”

“I sense trouble looming on the horizon,” the duchess interrupted. “With the princess regaining authority, it’s unclear how the current regime will react. Sa’salia choosing Amai as the new captain of the royal guard concerns me as well. Likely, she made this decision without consulting Gwen.”

“Do you think there will be conflict between them?”

Amue nodded. “Having the princess rely upon us because of our acquaintanceship would be troublesome. For now, I’m going to hole up here and observe the situation. If I claim to feel depressed due to guilt from Sa’salia’s disappearance, that should satisfy our peers. That being said, I need to send someone to take my place as commander of the Solid Left Army. Will you accept this role?” 

In response to this question, Kazahina hesitantly shook her head. “With your permission, I would like to stay with Yuuhina for a little while. Only until she can return to Gemstone Academy.”

“In that case, I don’t mind. I’ll send another suitable person to the capital. As repentance for what happened, I’m thinking of organizing an investigative team to better grasp the precise geography of our domain. Regardless of their positions, I’m gathering those familiar with the mountains to gather detailed information. Thankfully, that apothecary has offered to help. Once you’ve settled the matter with Yuuhina, I would like for you to join us.”

Kazahina nodded composedly. “As you wish, Your Excellency.”

Amue needed to improve upon many things. Starting with the princess’s reckless actions, this incident had – without question – gravely wounded Adulelia’s reputation. For the time being, the Ice Wolves’ name would be thoroughly discussed amongst the nobles of Crystal Palace and various regions. Having too much time on their hands, this gossip would provide them with some interest.

This affair had left the long-lived bearer of Orthoclase with a great deal of remorse. Yet thanks to the help of a young man overflowing with talent, the matter had resolved without incident. Even so, the Rabidaemons, which had appeared in the human world and relentlessly hunted the princess, remained shrouded in mystery.

Deliberately, Amue hadn’t taken the last surviving Rabidaemon’s life. The direction it had flown in while wounded remained on her mind.

I’m just imagining things.

Dispelling such ridiculous thoughts, Amue turned her attention towards the future of Adulelia and the people she cared about.

***

Before the advent of spring, the Royal Oversight Court – situated in the capital – received word of Princess’s Sa’salia having been stranded in the mountains and safely rescued. Due to the enormity of this event, the information caused quite the stir within the castle. Surprisingly, however, the situation soon returned to normal for two reasons. First, Sa’salia had already returned intact. Second, it had been confirmed that the blame for this incident lay with the princess herself.

Solar Bright Isaiah of the Imperial Guard tried sending a medium-sized squadron of their soldiers to Adulelia, hoping to replace the lost royal guardsmen and women. Nevertheless, a direct letter from the princess refused this. “Send only the few remaining, supplemental members of the royal guard,” her correspondence read. “Anything more is unnecessary.”

A rumor had started to spread amongst the high-ranking members of the Imperial Guard and Royal Oversight Court. Since arriving in Adulelia, Sa’salia had begun acting strangely. Before, the princess had shown no interest in her official duties, yet now, she’d refused the dispatch of personal guards. Furthermore, she’d ordered the arrangement of visitations to the houses of Brights who had died during this series of events. In these meetings, she planned to give reports and apologize to the families.

Additionally, Isaiah had one more thing to worry about. Gwen – who could be called her father figure – had been acting strangely. Usually, Gwen didn’t let his emotions show, but from a young age, Isaiah had observed him from close at hand. Thus, she could sense something off about his behavior. In all likelihood, the man had been in a terrible mood as of late.

Near the advent of spring, Gwen ended an early morning meeting, promptly leaving the room. Isaiah found this strange. Even after the discussion, Gwen would usually give detailed instructions to each person. Yet on this day, he entrusted everything to Isaiah, disappearing without indicating his next destination.

The sun rose high overhead. Unaware of Gwen’s location, Isaiah’s unease swelled with the passing of time. Quite honestly, she harbored extraordinary feelings for the Supreme Commander. Love towards a father figure. Respect and admiration towards a member of the opposite sex. Emotions beyond even those. 

After being adopted from a war zone, Isaiah had always wanted to learn more about her mysterious, adoptive father. Once, she’d asked Gwen about his origins, incurring his wrath and earning his silence for almost half a year. Since then, she’d been unable to ask him about his life or upbringing.

Despite this experience, Isaiah hadn’t given up. From a young age, that had been a bad habit of hers. Thus, she’d often followed her adoptive father, uncovering his destinations. Yes, these actions had been the meaningless game of a child, but as a result, she’d been able to grasp the countless, daily tasks performed by the great man known as the father of Murakumo. When Isaiah had become involved in the center of state affairs as a Bright, she’d been able to assist Gwen better than anyone else. That had become a point of pride for her.

While recalling the past, Isaiah walked around, searching the places Gwen might have visited. Even so, she couldn’t find him in the castle or the barracks on the outskirts of town. Just in case, she even inquired into Gemstone Academy, but he wasn’t there either.

Finally, Isaiah searched the inside of a small tower in the castle courtyard. From time to time, Gwen used this building as a break room of sorts. When confronting serious decisions, the man had holed up in here on several occasions, refusing to come out. From Isaiah’s perspective, this was a place of refuge for her adoptive father, who bore the heaviest of responsibilities. Still, since she hadn’t seen him come here as of late, she’d removed this tower from consideration until the very end.

A dense layer of darkly colored moss covered the outside wall of the tower. Pushing on the door, Isaiah found it unlocked, creaking open all too easily. Having no window, the first floor was a gloomy place. Though simple furniture had been placed here and there, the room gave no sense of having been lived in. Likewise, the second floor contained only a bed. Dull sunlight shone through the dirty, clouded skylight, illuminating the waltzing dust motes.

Disappointed by another failure, she descended the steep staircase, returning to the first floor. Suddenly, a brush of air against her cheek beckoned to Isaiah. Cold, whistling wind passed through the tower’s entrance, flowing into the room’s inner fireplace.

A careful investigation revealed an entrance to the basement hidden by the fireplace. Though a heavy, metallic covering had been placed atop the entrance, it had been shifted, creating an opening. Furthermore, a metal ladder continued far into the depths. Upon closer inspection, handprints had been left on the accumulated dust of the rungs.

The fear of entering unknown darkness inspired a sense of foreboding in Isaiah. Even so, she didn’t consider this for too long, curiosity and love for her adopted father ultimately prevailing. Thus, she climbed down the vertical shaft, which grew darker with the descent.

Stepping onto the ground, a long, narrow tunnel used for drainage unfolded before Isaiah. At regular intervals, a series of holes, which contained drainage pipes leading to the courtyard, opened in the ceiling. As a result, Isaiah could barely make out her surroundings, and at her feet, boot prints stood out in sharp relief. Based on their size and shape, they had been left by Gwen.

Isaiah decided to follow the footprints. Long and narrow, the sewer system occasionally extended left and right, growing more intricate. Nevertheless, Gwen’s footprints headed in a singular direction, appearing at regular intervals.

She spent a long time tracking the footprints. If her senses were correct, Isaiah had already left the castle. As she continued down the sewage system, it grew increasingly ancient. Already, the walls in her current location had started to crumble here and there, no longer appearing to fulfill their purpose. Near dusk, she could no longer rely upon the sunlight from outside.

As Isaiah began to consider heading back, she heard someone speaking from up ahead. Deep and austere, the voice belonged to Gwen.

Feeling uneasy, Isaiah started to call out to Gwen, but.. something seemed off. Obeying her instincts, which warned of danger, she hid in a nearby side road. Peering through the shadows, she discovered a vague, red light drifting from her adoptive father. Upon seeing what that crimson light illuminated, Isaiah gulped.

Clad in a crimson shell, there lay a single insect. The enormous creature bore a large Miracrystal on its back, and at a glance, Isaiah knew its species.

A Rabidaemon!?

Missing most of its legs, the crimson Rabidaemon looked severely weakened. Placing his left hand on the creature’s Miracrystal, Gwen stared into the void, his eyes emitting a vague, red light.

“I used three fully matured insects and still failed,” Gwen’s heavy voice rang out.

As if resonating, Gwen’s and the Rabidaemon’s Miracrystals radiated the same colored light. All the while, the creature howled in anguish.

“Rest,” said Gwen. “Your task is finished.”

Extending his fingers like the point of a sword, he gently pierced the Rabidaemon’s body. Spasming once, the creature died, and the same time, the red light radiating from its Miracrystal vanished.

Crimson bodily fluids poured from the Rabidaemon’s body. Above the resultant pool of blood, small insects appeared as if from nowhere, flitting around it. Having a blood sucking nature, cocues had only been confirmed to exist within Murakumo’s royal capital. They flew so fast, Isaiah had difficulty following them with her eyes.

When Gwen raised his hand, the cocues left the pool of blood, flying around the top of his palm in a perfectly controlled fashion. Meanwhile, his Miracrystal emitted a blackish red light.

“…I’ve been followed?” he muttered to himself, whipping around.

His gaze met Isaiah’s, who froze in place, her face peeking from the shadows.

As Isaiah let forth a hoarse scream, Gwen disappeared. The next moment, someone’s thick hand had clamped around her slender neck. While she writhed in agony, Gwen’s form appeared in her eyes. Red light tinging his pupils, he bared his teeth in a threatening manner, his bicuspids abnormally elongated. The face glaring at her wasn’t human. No, it was the enraged visage of an ogre.

“How foolish of you to follow me!” shouted Gwen. “The number of times I’ve encountered people like you makes my skin crawl. If they hadn’t pried into my affairs out of curiosity, they could have lived full lives, yet those motivated by greed will eventually commit grave errors. Once again, I’ve wasted a valuable set of cards, all because I thrust my hand into an unexpected bit of good fortune. Eliminating the last member of that abominable bloodline and laying the blame at the Ice Wolves’ feet would have been far too convenient.”

Gwen’s grip around Isaiah’s throat tightened. As her adoptive father pushed her against the wall, he also lifted her upwards. Once her feet had left the ground, she completely forgot herself, kicking her legs back and forth.

“Hel…p…”

“Even after abandoning my human body and living for so many years, I still allow my heart to be led astray. After all this time, I still make mistakes. Placing you by my side on a whim was one of those errors!”

As Gwen opened his large mouth, a crimson insect crawled out from the back of his throat. Its forelegs were as sharp as sickles, and its eyeless face contained only a mouth, rows of fine teeth protruding from the small orifice. Like a caterpillar, its skin seemed flexible, black spots mottling its slimy surface.

Its movements instantaneous, the nasty, blackish red insect thrust itself into Isaiah’s mouth, traveling down her throat and blocking her windpipe. Unable to even groan, she passed out from abject terror.

The border between dream and reality fading, a scene played out in Isaiah’s mind. An old, emaciated woman lay atop a beautiful bed reminiscent of a cloud. The Miracrystal on her left hand radiated an extraordinary light. Undoubtedly, this was the former Queen Murakumo, whose image Isaiah had tucked away in the corner of her memory.

Coughing violently, the queen extended a hand towards Gwen, who stood next to her.

“I don’t have much time left,” she said. “Gwen, after my death, give Celestine to Sa’salia at once. Though I couldn’t do anything for her, I hope that our family’s stone will provide her with some support…”

Gwen gently squeezed the queen’s wrinkled hand. “Your Majesty… Leave everything else to me.”

“I can never thank you enough,” said the queen, her eyes filling with tears. “So long as she has you, Sa’salia will be able to recover. I beg of you: Please support her.”

Knowing her death approached, grief dampened the queen’s cheeks. In contrast, Gwen’s expression remained cold. While holding the queen’s hand, he withdrew the dagger at his waist, lopping off her left wrist. The old woman’s screams reverberated throughout the royal family’s magnificent bedchambers.

“Scream as much as you like,” said Gwen. “I’ve already cleared the area of people.”

As it poured blood, Gwen gripped the queen’s dismembered hand, lifting it high into the air.

“Gwen!” cried the queen. “Why!? How could you!?”

The man’s face twisted hideously. “Because of the abominable blood flowing through your veins. For a trivial passion, you destroyed a nation, exterminating its entire population. After trampling its history and culture underfoot, you even erased the name of God. In the end, you accepted the western immigrants, allowing them to flourish in the east. I won’t allow you to claim forgetfulness. The name of Murakumo is so repulsive, I am loath to even speak it!”

Unable to follow, the queen shook her head madly. “I don’t understand! I don’t understand! What are you even saying!?”

“Whether or not you understand doesn’t matter. This is simply the revenge of a man who had everything stolen from him, who crawled through living Hell. Don’t think you’ll be able to die through mere blood loss. Down to your marrow, I want you to experience the anguish of losing your stone, of your live body crumbling into Stardust.”

“Something this outrageous won’t go unnoticed!”

Gwen’s high-pitched laughter drowned out the pale queen’s final protest. “Just like you, I’ve gained the trust of many people. A single word can even grant me a one-on-one audience with the monarch. The unthinkable path I’ve taken to reach this point hasn’t been easy, but finally… Finally, I have obtained the stone of you filthy, venomous snakes! Only a single, young girl remains.”

The man smiled, baring his teeth.

“My son!” cried the queen. “Did you also kill—”

Glad to have been asked the question, Gwen raised his voice. “Slaughtering the prince took quite a bit of effort. Yet he experienced a correspondingly dramatic end, dying in the belly of an insect.”

“You traitorous bastard!”

The queen’s faced twisted with rage. With Gwen still holding her arm, she mustered all her strength, attempting to grab him with only her right hand. Dodging lightly, Gwen seized the queen by the neck, pushing her against the bed.

“The true pain will soon begin,” he said. “Before you go mad, I’ll let you in on a little secret. I won’t kill Sa’salia right away. For the last remaining member of royalty’s death, I’ll need to prepare a suitable reason. If her passing results in a dissatisfactory outcome, a rebellion amongst the aristocracy will be inevitable. Originally, the easterners were subjects of my master. I don’t wish to involve them in conflict. Well then, how does this sound? I’ll give Sa’salia a flower that deceives the mind. If she destroys her own body, I can put a quiet end to the bloodline of Murakumo.”

The aged queen continued spitting curses at Gwen. Though she had once valued refinement, no trace of her formerly beautiful dignity now remained. Assaulted by the worst pain that a person could experience in this world, the queen lost her sanity with each passing moment, finally disappearing.

“To the Burning Avian King, I give the throne,” said Gwen. “To the easterners, I give the land of Amatea. Just a little while longer… Just one more death.”

Once the queen’s entire body had disappeared, he stared down at the bed on which only clothes remained. From the perspective of Isaiah’s dreamlike vision, she could only see his back. Thus, she had no way of knowing what sort of expression he wore.

Original text: https://ncode.syosetu.com/n4006r/19/

Chapter 37: Spring I

In the face of unexpected good fortune, Shi’shi’Jishi Amai needed far more resolve than he’d originally anticipated. While heading to a northern facing country as an emissary, Amai had prepared a gift for Duchess Adulelia, who had taken Sa’salia into her custody. In exchange for this gift, the former professor had sought a one-on-one audience with the princess. Already, a month had passed since then.

When Amai had described this audience as his “first step towards advancement”, he hadn’t been lying to the duchess. By currying the princess’s favor, he hoped for her to assign him the lowest ranking position in the royal guard. That alone would be fortuitous, and indeed, he’d already sewn seeds towards this end.

However, while Amai had gone northward to attend a meeting with a dignitary, something unprecedented had occurred. After throwing herself into the undeveloped mountains, the princess had suffered a Rabidaemon attack. Finally, she’d been rescued from the brink of almost certain death. When Amai had learned of this, the incident had already come to a peaceful resolution, the princess having returned safely.

The safe return of Murakumo’s only royal heir was of great import. Yet to Amai, the death of the royal guard’s young commander was of similar import. Having known her, he did grieve the passing of Canaria Faith. Yet rather than the death of his former student, Amai poured his interest into her vacant position: a seat inlaid with radiant honor.

***

“…Well then, who are you?”

Princess Sa’salia – future monarch of Murakumo, which ruled over the east – posed this question to the man bowing his head in front of her.

“I am Shi’shi’Jishi Amai, a Solid Bright of the Royal Oversight Court. I have come seeking an audience with Her Highness, Princess Sa’salia.”

Shi’shi’Jishi Amai – a thin, bespectacled man – lowered his head deeply, offering a simple introduction. It was afternoon at Adulelia Manor, and Sa’salia had been allocated a room within the annex as her temporary residence. As warm sunlight poured through the windows, a pleasant breeze rustled the lace curtains. This being an informal meeting, the princess sat upon her bed, adopting a relaxed posture.

“Since Duchess Adulelia herself requested that I have this audience, I allowed it,” she said. “Still, a private meeting with a stranger isn’t very pleasant. Whatever business you have with me, let’s settle it quickly.”

As the princess glared at him, Amai held his breath, watching her fearfully. Sa’salia possessed the intimidating air and dignity unique to those born in line for the throne. Though Amai had believed himself accustomed to audiences with high-ranking individuals, his experiences wouldn’t be of help with the princess, he now realized.

“Well then, I’ll spare you the trouble and speak frankly,” said Amai. “Please allow me to serve at your side, Your Highness.”

Sa’salia’s expression turned even grimmer. “I’m not feeling very well as of late. If that’s all you have to say, don’t expect any more patience from me.”

As the princess stood from her bed, trying to leave the room, Amai prostrated himself before her, blocking the way. “Please wait!”

Furious, Sa’salia raised her voice. “I won’t question what sort of relationship you have with Adulelia that allowed for this audience. Despite being inexperienced, I’m not so foolish as to promise status to those who merely bow their heads to me!”

Lips tightening, Amai steeled himself. “No, your foolishness is unparalleled, Your Highness.”

Amai’s words, which far exceeded his station, caused Sa’salia to flinch. “What… did you…?”

“Too long had passed since the royal family withdrew from the center of governance. Though you should have inherited the throne as soon as possible, a vile drug took hold of your mind. During that time, Gwen Vlad and his adherents seized control of most administrative affairs within the country.”

Slowly backing away, Sa’salia took a seat upon the bed once more.

“Yes, I called you a fool,” continued Amai, remaining prostrate. “However, I did not mean to criticize you. No humans are free of error. Yet when you fell into depravity – your mind deceived – no one extended a hand to their liege. For that, I do feel a strong sense of indignation.”

As he spoke, Amai scraped his forehead against the floor in an exaggerated manner. Normally, to utter such impudent words, one would need to be prepared for execution. Nevertheless, Sa’salia offered a gentle response.

“Raise your head,” said the princess, her expression bitter.

She’s changed.

As Sa’salia had grown up, Amai had occasionally seen her from afar. Always, she’d been expressionless, seeming devoid of life. Yet now, regret and sorrow tinged the countenance of the princess before him. Likely, being attacked by Rabidaemons and stranded in the mountains had exerted a profound influence on Sa’salia, drastically changing her state of mind. 

Rubbing the Miracrystal on her left hand, the princess lowered her gaze. “While neglecting my duties, taking refuge in the world of memories, I lost so much, including time and people. Of my own volition, I’ve gone to the families of those who lost their lives because of me, apologizing to them. Though they must hate me, not a single person has blamed me for the deaths of their loved ones.”

Amai could have guessed as much. As the last remaining member of royalty, Sa’salia had been chosen as the next monarch. Envisioning this future, the princess’s vassals would either cower in fear or do their utmost to win her favor.

“You called yourself Amai, did you not?” asked Sa’salia.

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“Few people speak their minds in front of me as you have, and such a man has offered me his service. Tell me your true goal behind those words.”

In all likelihood, this would be Sa’salia’s final ultimatum. If Amai couldn’t seize hold of the young princess’s heart, his ephemeral dream would vanish into nothingness.

“Please promote me to your royal guard,” he said. “I will devote myself to rebuilding the royal family. That is my single purpose.” 

“Through mere words, I have caused the meaningless deaths of many Brights. I became addicted to a mind-rotting drug, and even after quitting the flowers, my body still screams from long years of their abuse. To vent my anger, I suffocated my ladies-in-waiting more than a few times, enjoying their suffering. Can you serve that sort of person?”

When Sa’salia spoke in warning, Amai’s words grew more impassioned.

“Once, House Amai was a distinguished, indigenous family of the east who swore loyalty to the royal family. Long ago, we produced Ri’Riku, who served as prime minister. Likewise, we generated many more government officials in the Royal Oversight Court and various other, subordinate chambers. However, at some point, the name of Amai became removed from the center of the nation. In the distant past, we lost our territory, powerful nobles from foreign countries stealing it from us. Yet if possible, I would like to use my achievements to once again spread the name of Amai to the world.”

Lowering his head, Amai stared at the ground, unblinking.

“Understood…” said the princess. “Since you’re a calculating person, I feel a little more at ease.”

Clenching his hand into a tight fist, Amai lifted his head. “Thank you, Your Highness!”

“But if you want the same position as Canaria, that won’t be possible. There’s already someone else I would like to occupy that seat.”

In other words, the position of captain. Amai had desired that rank above all else.

“Are you speaking of the commoner named Shuou?” he asked.

When Amai voiced his assumption, Sa’salia appeared somewhat surprised. “Do you know him?”

“I’ve heard rumors of him. Not too long ago, I had an opportunity to speak with him personally. I found him to be a very capable young man.”

Hearing words of praise for Shuou, Sa’salia donned a proud smile. “Yes, I’m sure you did.”

“But with all due respect, if you are nominating that young man as captain of the royal guard, I must voice my dissent.”

Her expression darkening, the color drained from Sa’salia’s face. A freezing chill ran down Amai’s spine.

“I… will listen to your reasoning,” said the princess.

“Yes, that young man performed a heroic deed in saving Your Highness’s life. That being said, promoting a mere Squire to captain of the royal guard would be far too rash. If you give a position of honor to a commoner, people will have doubts, pointing the brunt of their dissatisfaction at Shuou. In other words, you will be placing the one who saved your life in a position of emotional anguish.”

In the blink of an eye, Sa’salia’s enthusiasm plummeted. “…But I want him to remain by my side.”

While speaking, she used her pointer finger to trace something akin to a letter on her bedsheets, a certain heat tinging her expression. As Amai observed this, Sa’salia appeared to have regressed in age by a few years. Having removed the armor of “princess”, only the form of a solitary, young girl remained.

Despite knowing the answer, Amai couldn’t ask Sa’salia if she loved Shuou. If she answered affirmatively, Amai would find himself in the worst possible situation as someone who wished to restore the royal family.

Squirming, Sa’salia continued fiddling with the sheets. “Shuou is a capable man of great integrity. He risked his life to protect me, and I would like to repay him suitably. At the very least, he could be second-in-command of—”

Amai spoke in a frigid tone, sapping the heat from Sa’salia’s fevered words. “Allow me to speak bluntly. Even if you offered him the lowest position in the royal guard, the criticism from his surroundings wouldn’t change in the slightest.”

The heat emanating from Sa’salia seemed to cool a few degrees. “I’ve never used it before, but I have every right to appoint members of the royal guard.”

“Your Highness, I will clearly state what is possible and what isn’t,” said Amai, raising his tone of voice. “At the same time, I will do my utmost to grant your wish in a better form. Duchess Adulelia has also recognized Shuou’s strengths. In that case, you should provide him with a place where he can demonstrate his talents to the fullest. If, through his abilities, he earns achievements and rank befitting the royal guard, you will have reason enough to invite him to your side as splendid repayment. Moderately spreading the heroic story of him saving Your Highness’s life will also push him towards advancement.”

Biting her lip, Sa’salia looked unable to give up. “But that will take time. I want to stay by his side even longer, to become a monarch worthy of his praise. I want him to see me giving my all, so that he may acknowledge me..”

As faint tears welled in her eyes, Sa’salia gazed at Amai in a clinging fashion. Despite looking in his direction, Amai suspected that she could only see the man in her imagination.

This is dangerous.

According to Duchess Adulelia, since returning alive and well, Sa’salia hadn’t desired the flowers she’d been so reliant upon. Following a life-threatening situation, she must have conquered her addiction, the duchess had said. Yet in truth, the object of her dependence had merely changed. In any case, Shuou had become indispensable to the princess’s mental state. That much, Amai had grasped. If he didn’t handle this well, it could lead to an irreversible situation.

“Please, do not fear,” said Amai. “If you give me a suitable amount of power, I will make arrangements for you to see him regularly.”

“Really?”

Amai nodded cautiously. “Even so, we must be careful. Shuou has no attachment to Murakumo. Based on what I’ve learned, he won’t roll over for money or material possessions. If displeased, he will probably resign from the military and go abroad. Truthfully, he aspires to travel around the world.

Sa’salia’s expression crumbled into one of fear and apprehension.

“Of course, by using the royal family’s authority, we could force things to go our way,” continued Amai. “Yet in doing so, we wouldn’t be able to ignore the person acting as his actual supporter. Their power is far too great.”

Shuou becoming a mental support for the princess stretched beyond Amai’s control. However, if he used this to his advantage, it could become a shortcut to gaining Sa’salia’s trust. Recognizing this as the critical moment, Amai continued pressing her.

“Nevertheless, I am confident in my ability to oversee this situation and grant your request. Who else would agree to arranging a tryst between you and a young commoner? Your Highness, please make use of me. Should I break this promise, you may cut off my left arm – along with those belonging to the rest of my house – while we still live and breathe.”

Without warning, Sa’salia rose to her feet. “Amai. By my authority, you are now captain of the royal guard. Here and now, swear to keep all the promises you have made.”

“I humbly accept this position, and I swear to uphold my oaths.”

Bending her knees, Sa’salia stared into Amai’s face, her expression desperate. “You will bring him to me.”

“I swear it…”

Despite having obtained his desired result, Amai couldn’t rejoice unreservedly. Reality didn’t always proceed as one envisioned.

The former professor had been promoted to the honorable captain of the royal guard, greatly advancing himself in the world. Even so, an abundance of problems weighed upon the royal family. Most worrisome, the princess needed many more heirs to expand her weakened bloodline. In spite of this, she had chosen a young commoner without a Sunstone to fall in love with.

***

As humidity began to tinge the clear, bright air, plants overflowing with vitality emerged from beneath the melted snow. Bathing in warm sunlight, birds sang restless songs to one other, and white clouds swam across the lofty, invigorating expanse of blue sky.

When Spring arrived, the day came in which Adulelia would bid farewell to Princess Sa’salia as she returned to the capital. However, Duchess Adulelia didn’t appear amidst the group seeing her off.

“Shouldn’t you be there to wish her farewell?” asked Shuou.

Standing by a window on the manor’s second floor, he looked down upon Sa’salia, who walked towards a carriage with Shi’shi’Jishi Amai.

Standing next to Shuou, Duchess Adulelia also watched Sa’salia from the window. “I was told that I didn’t have the right,” she muttered. “Though I’m not expending too much effort, I am trying to consider the princess’s feelings. But what about you? Since the incident, she seems to have taken quite the liking to you.”

“During my recovery, she wouldn’t stop following me around. I’ve had enough.”

In response to Shuou’s exhausted tone, Amue laughed. “You think of the princess’s affection as a nuisance? How splendid. According to Kazahina, Sa’salia is scheming to drag you into the royal guard. If she offers you an invitation, what will you do?”

Shuou struggled to come up with an answer. Looking down, he found Sa’salia in the middle of boarding her carriage. At that moment, she looked up at him. When their gazes met, the princess waved, her face breaking into a joyous smile. Removing himself from the window, Shuou closed the curtains, drawing a line between himself and Sa’salia.

“I’m not interested. Their world is too different from mine. And besides—” When he thought of the royal guard, a certain person rose to mind. “I don’t want to die in a similar way to Canaria.”

Tensing her mouth, Amue looked into the distance with a complicated expression. “Canaria Faith deserved far better. As the one who helped her pass on, her memory must be painful.”

Evading Amue’s sympathetic gaze, Shuou scratched the tip of his nose. Not long after they’d met, Canaria had died. Even so, her passing had left a thorn in Shuou’s heart, as he’d come to know her to a certain extent. Yet more than sadness, a part of him felt contempt for her death. Before the princess, she’d merely followed orders. Without being able to demonstrate any of her well-disciplined techniques, she’d fallen from a cliff and perished. Having ended in such a way, what had her life meant?

“Brights, the royal guard… what does any of this mean?” asked Shuou. “Within the military, how much significance does one’s rank or position have?”

Removing herself from the window, Amue sat in her chair, muttering a rhetorical phrase. “Well then,” she prefaced, placing a single letter atop the desk.

“What’s this?” asked Shuou.

“Following our previous conversation, this may be awkward, but these are assignment orders from the First Army, which you belong to. Your post will be the frontlines of the border facing northward. Despite its small scale, this a true battlefield in which territorial disputes frequently occur. While this is an official order, I can revoke it at my own discretion. What are your thoughts on the matter?”

In other words, Amue was inviting him to remain in Adulelia. Gazing at the flimsy sheet of paper atop the desk, Shuou sighed deeply. “I accept these orders.”

Her expression darkening, Amue refused to back down. “If you remain under the banner of Adulelia’s Solid Left Army, I could provide you with a suitable position. Even if you no longer wish to be a soldier, I would like to employ you as a high paid house guest. Yes, this will earn you the envy of others, but I will assume responsibility for such irresponsible gossip.”

At once, Shuou shook his head, refusing this offer. “This place is too comfortable for me. “Everyone is kind, the food is delicious, I have my own splendid room, and Kazahina troubles herself over me. Though I’ve obtained everything, not a single of these privileges feels as though it’s truly mine. I want to earn the things I desire for myself. Right now, I’m a hired hand of the state, and if my employer tells me to go somewhere, I’ll work to compensate them for my salary.”

Amue sighed, her breath seeming to cling onto Shuou. “Trying to detain you any longer… would be boorish, I suppose.”

The duchess withdrew another letter, which used more expensive paper than the previous one, Shuou could tell at a glance.

“This is a certificate of promotion from the Royal Oversight Court,” said Amue. “Once you have accepted the aforementioned assignment, you will officially hold the rank of Squire Sergeant.”

“A promotion…? Even though I’ve been under house arrest?”

“You may accept this as a reward for bringing the princess back unharmed. Even when taking your house arrest into consideration, this is far too meager a repayment for your meritorious service.”

When Amue offered him both papers, Shuou accepted them solemnly. “I’ll take good care of these.”

“Along with this promotion, you’ll have a proportional increase in salary as well,” said Amue, her expression still clouded. “It will be more than enough to live a normal life. When you arrive on the battlefield, you will likely be entrusted with a small squadron of soldiers. Brigadier General Al Baden – commander of the region – is by no account exceptional, but I haven’t heard anything particularly bad about him either. However, if you find him unsuitable as a commanding officer, you may return here at any time.”

Like a mother bird watching her hatchling leave the nest, Amue looked upon Shuou with deep concern. The duchess’s face overlapped with Amane’s on the day Shuou had expressed his desire to leave on a journey.

Bowing politely, Shuou uttered a single phrase of heartfelt gratitude. “Thank you… for everything.

“Indeed… Oh, but we still have a few things to discuss.” Leaving her desk, Amue walked over to a large, wooden chest placed in a corner of the room. “This is a gift of thanks from Marquis Faith to you.”

Hearing the name of Canaria’s father, Shuou tilted his head. “For me?”

When Amue beckoned to him, Shuou approached the chest. Inside were several more, smaller boxes stacked on top of each other. Opening one of the lids, he found shining, silver coins neatly packed within.

“This is…”

“A fortune in itself,” finished Amue. “Only a family as wealthy as House Faith could afford such a thanks. Princess Sa’salia visited Marquis Faith to apologize, and in doing so, she spoke of your actions at length. Truthfully, that is the reason for this gift. Even though you helped his daughter pass on, he would usually take no notice of an unfamiliar commoner. However, upon recognizing the princess’s affection for you, he did this to earn your favor. Thus, you needn’t feel any reserve about taking this money.”

The chest was so large, it would require four adults to carry it. Shuou couldn’t believe he’d done anything to deserve this grand of a reward. Regardless, money was one of the most easily understandable powers in the world. By taking this gift, he would lose nothing.

“Well then, I’ll take only what I can carry,” he said.

“Of course,” replied Amue. “I’ll store the remainder for you. If you are ever in need of it, contact me at any time.”

Nodding, Shuou filled several small bags with as much silver as possible. Since he would now be heading to a new assignment, having an abundance of money provided ample reassurance.

Once again, Amue stood by the window, looking at the outside scenery. “The princess is leaving, it would seem.”

As if summoned, Shuou looked outside as well, finding a large number of people watching the carriage’s departure. The elegant vehicle passed through the courtyard, advancing towards the gate. 

“She’s a completely different person from when she arrived,” continued Amue. “Early this morning, she went around the manor to thank the workers.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“A bit cold, don’t you think? Every time the princess does something, she wants to know your location. Likely, she wants your praise.”

Shuou’s mouth twisted bitterly. “That… has nothing to do with me.”

Since returning alive, Sa’salia had – as an official duty – gone to the houses of those Brights who had died, offering direct explanations and apologies. Except for these visits, the princess had stayed in Adulelia Manor. During this time, she’d chased Shuou around, wanting to eat their meals and sleep with one another, as they’d done while stranded. Like a duckling who had imprinted on him, Sa’salia had trailed behind Shuou wherever he went.

Similar to Aise and Shitori following their traversal of the Abyss, the princess felt affection towards him as member of the opposite sex. Yet compared to those two, young noblewomen, Sa’salia approached him with a different sort of fondness.

This feeling.

It reminded Shuou of a drowning person extending their hand in a complete and utter daze. The situation had no room for error. If he reached out to save Sa’salia, she would drag him into the raging stream, its farthest reaches imperceptible.

Exiting through the front gate, Sa’salia’s carriage didn’t continue into the city. Instead, it entered onto an inconspicuous backroad. From this point onward, Shuou could no longer see the vehicle. At the moment of her birth, Sa’salia had been shouldered with the fate of becoming monarch. On the other hand, Shuou had struggled merely to survive, never knowing his parents’ faces. Though their paths never should have crossed, they had – by sheer coincidence – intersected for but a single moment.

As Shuou gazed out the window absentmindedly, Amue – standing at his side – turned her intent gaze upon him.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

“No, I was thinking about your ability to move peoples’ hearts. You did so with those young noblewomen and the princess. Simply by standing at their side, you have the power to dramatically change a person’s fate. And since I was the one to find you, my perception must be as keen as ever.”

Hearing this, Shuou donned a wry smile. “I have no such power. Even my life lacks any sort of plan, and I let the current carry me where it may.”

“I wonder about that. Incidentally, Aurel and Mordred – the fool girls – have been sending you an incessant stream of gifts. It’s quite bothersome. I stayed quiet, assuming that if you didn’t respond, they would eventually stop, but their gifts are about to fill one of our small storage rooms.”

Shuou scratched the back of his head. “Oh… Sorry about that. I did send them letters saying the gifts weren’t necessary.”

“Their gifts are approaching the level of tributes, not mere presents. Why don’t you send everything back at once? If they don’t understand the implication, you can write the girls off as witless and sever ties with them.”

In response to Amue’s grim expression, Shuou nodded. “I’ll do just that.”

“Indeed… That being said, Kazahina is rather late.”

“Is she in the middle of something?”

“More or less. I did request something from her. Speaking of Kazahina, she’s another person you’ve influenced. To my knowledge, she hadn’t shown any interest in men until now, but she’s strangely conscious of you. I wonder if she’s putting on some kind of ridiculous perfume.”

The childlike Amue took small, quick steps towards Shuou, pressing her face into his stomach and inhaling his scent.

“Hold on a—”

Taken off guard, Shuou whipped backwards. From the entrance of the room, there came a loud crash. Looking in that direction, he found Kazahina standing stock still, her face pale. Having dropped a rectangular, wooden box, she stared at them, one hand clasped over her mouth.

“So you felt the same way, Lady Amue…? If you had said so, I would have secretly lent you one of my spares.”

Amue, who had grabbed Shuou’s clothes and pressed her face against his stomach, instantly turned red. “D-Don’t be a fool!” she cried. “Since you’re so obsessed with his odor, I merely gave him a test sniff!”

Swift footed, Amue removed herself from Shuou, clambering atop her large chair and sitting down. To keep up appearances, she let out a series of small coughs.

Picking up the dropped box, Kazahina pressed Amue harder, her expression twisting. “So, how was it?”

“Hmph! He smelled like a normal, sweaty man!”

Though Kazahina laughed with satisfaction, Shuou felt at a loss for what to do. Upon being sniffed against his will, he’d been deemed as reeking of sweat.

I’ll borrow the bath before leaving, thought Shuou, pinching his shirt and smelling around the armpit.

“Let’s leave aside such trivial matters,” said Amue. “More importantly, how did the aforementioned item turn out?”

Placing the wooden box on the table, Kazahina gave a firm, satisfied nod. “It’s wonderful. This being a direct request from the duchess, Master Garai put his heart and soul into the craftsmanship. In my opinion, it’s a masterpiece worthy of bearing a name.”

Smiling innocently, Kazahina withdrew a pair of swords from the box. Sheathed in black scabbards, the blades were slightly longer than short swords. Pleated groves had been etched into the handles, making them easy to grip. Finally, a silver ice wolf – the crest of House Adulelia – ornamented the hilt.

Receiving one of the swords from Kazahina, Shuou unsheathed it. Double edged and short, the blade had been constructed of a high-quality alloy. Likewise, its weight felt perfect in his hand. 

As Shuou gazed at the sword in admiration, Amue called out to him in a satisfied tone of voice. “After hearing that you aren’t partial to heavy weapons, I had these made from scratch. Based on Kazahina’s advice, I had the smithy pay the utmost attention to everything from size to weight. Does it suit your pleasure?”

Shuou nodded, his gaze fixed on the sword. “It does. But I can’t accept something that looks so expensive…”

In response to Shuou’s hesitation, Kazahina smiled. “Since you like to close in on your opponents, these swords were designed to match your style. If you don’t accept them, they’ll merely gather dust as decorations.”

At once, Amue agreed. “Without a sword at your side, you won’t look the part of a full-fledged soldier. In that case, it’s better to carry a weapon of some use.”

Shuou nodded once more, and with permission, he drew the two swords, taking a stance. Their lightness belied their solid appearance. Furthermore, the blades would serve well as extensions of his arms. Unlike Bright longswords, which specialized in stabbing opponents from horseback, these blades appeared suited to being wielded while running around on the ground.

“I’m not sure what to say,” said Shuou. “No words come to mind. I’m simply grateful.”

His lowered head naturally concealed the hot tears welling in his eyes. Would anyone else with whom he shared no relation do so much for him? When Shuou lifted his head, he found Kazahina and Amue looking at each other, exchanging joyous smiles.

After giving thanks three times and chatting idly, Shuou started to leave. Then he remembered something that had been on his mind. “Oh, right. About Hario and Saburi…”

Curious about this change of subject, Amue tilted her head. “What about them?”

Shuou looked at the wooden crate filled with silver coins, given to him by Marquis Faith. “Using that money, can I pay back their debts incurred from drinking your alcohol?”

Dubiously, Amue furrowed her brow. “You want to pay in their stead?”

“I’m indebted to those two for their help. And if there hadn’t been food in the cloak I borrowed from Hario, I’m not sure if I could have brought the princess back safely.”

“Even so, those imbeciles drank some of my oldest, most renowned liquor. Paying me back will cost you a great deal of the money from Marquis Faith.”

“I don’t mind,” Shuou replied immediately. “But please don’t tell them about this. I don’t want them to feel indebted to me.”

Original text: https://ncode.syosetu.com/n4006r/19/

Chapter 36: The End of Flight VI

Sa’salia dreamed of her young, beautiful mother and strong, handsome father. Rather than giving her to a wet nurse, Sa’salia’s parents had loved her, raising their daughter free of any lack. Like bubbles, scenes from her childhood floated in the air, bursting and scattering. She’d experienced this dream many times. On each occasion, she’d reached outward, desperate to protect the bubbles containing her memories. Yet now, her lovely hands lay atop her chest.

It was a strange feeling. As these numerous memories burst and disappeared, she could look upon them with a peaceful heart. “I’ll never have these things again,” she’d once thought. Yet now, she could accept all outcomes with magnanimity.

“How long have I felt this way?”

When she spoke in the dream, Sa’salia’s voice reverberated many times over, returning inside her once more. After all her memories had burst, a small, buoyant bubble appeared out of thin air. This one didn’t burst, floating silently in front of her. Reaching out, she enfolded it in her palms.

“It’s warm.”

The image of a strange man with gray hair appeared in her mind.

Him.

A mysterious man who treated the princess of Murakumo without any deceit. Angry and without fear, he spoke the truth. Apart from her deceased parents, how many people had stood before her with such an honest bearing?

“No one. Not even Gwen…”

Though he often gave her nagging advice, the man who had long watched over the royal family had a certain lack of passion. He had never shown her love, simply treating her as a princess.

“But he’s different.”

Sa’salia hadn’t been treated as someone’s equal in a long time. Yet without fear or trepidation, he looked at her directly. Without any ulterior motives, he spoke to her with concern. Sometimes, he laughed without care, his expression childlike.

“I need to see him.”

Each time Sa’salia thought of him, she felt a restless ache in the pit of her stomach. There were only memories here. She could never reclaim these things that had already passed away. Like bubbles, everything would disappear. Nothing existed in this closed world, including him. As the remains of burst bubbles formed wavering pools at her feet, Sa’salia kicked off the ground, dashing away. Despite being so unlike her, she leapt over the puddles and raced onward, never looking back.

Already, she only cared about what lay before her. On her face, she wore a full, long-forgotten smile.

***

Waking from her dream, Sa’salia shot up, surveying her surroundings. She searched for his cloudy hair, which should have been within this cave surrounded by monotonous rock faces.

“What…?”

A stinging pain shot through her heart. The person she wanted to see most upon waking wasn’t there. The person who had wished her a good morning each time she’d opened her eyes wasn’t there. Leaping to her feet, Sa’salia threw off the warm cloak enveloping her body, searching her surroundings in a half-crazed state. She couldn’t find Shuou anywhere.

Did he leave?

Her heart pounded. Rather than the fear of being abandoned in the midst of dangerous, airborne Rabidaemons, the reality of Shuou leaving without a word pierced her chest like a thousand arrows. Slumping down before the cave entrance, Sa’salia felt at a loss.

It was quiet outside. In her mind, Sa’salia repeatedly asked herself what she’d done wrong. To gain Shuou’s favor, she’d hidden her fatigue, giving her utmost to follow behind him. Likewise, she’d obeyed his instructions to the best of her abilities. Yet in the end, he’d judged her to be a burden.

“I can’t… take this…”

Sa’salia tore at her long, black hair with both hands. Her forgotten nausea and irritation returned, cold tears spilling from her eyes.

Everyone leaves me. They all disappear from inside me. I can’t take this anymore.

Without thinking, Sa’salia rose, staggering outside. Looking up at the sky, she muttered to herself absentmindedly. “I’ve had enough of this…”

From the very beginning, she hadn’t possessed an attachment to life. She didn’t want to live, but similarly, she’d never truly considered wanting to die. Yet now, going on seemed pointless. Abandoned by her sole protector, Sa’salia’s fate had been sealed, regardless of what she did. In the world of humans, she had the power to make anyone fall prostrate before her. Nevertheless, she didn’t have the means to survive alone in the mountains.

Upon believing she’d finally obtained something, it had slipped from her grasp. If the Rabidaemons appeared here again, she could die quickly from being eaten, releasing her from that sorrow.

She gazed at the sky, imploring the heavens. How laughable to wait upon something she’d once feared so much. Spinning around, she looked at the sky unfolding all around her. At that moment, she discovered a bundle of familiar flowers growing in the shadow of rocks just above the cave’s entrance. 

Are those…?

Unable to look away from those flowers, curiosity bloomed within Sa’salia’s disconsolate heart, beckoning her forward. 

***

A little ways down the mountain from the cave, Shuou walked through a forest. With each step, he double checked his footing, continuing onward with a great degree of caution. Even in the deepest places, the snow only reached his ankles, meaning he could run if necessary. Tall, coniferous trees surrounded him on all sides. Having decayed, other large trees had fallen here and there, creating moderate obstacles.

This should work.

Spotting a small, cliff-like depression in the forest, Shuou nodded to himself. Before first light, he’d left Sa’salia while she still slept, going outside to acquire a better understanding of the surrounding terrain.

Shuou had stayed up all night measuring the time between Crimson Bee patrols. The creatures flew at nearly identical intervals, their coordination truly magnificent. While their highly skilled, almost militaristic discipline astounded Shuou, he’d confirmed – once again – that breaking out of this encirclement would not be easy.

At first, there hadn’t been any proof of the Crimson Bees taking shifts on patrol. Yet after some observation, Shuou had noticed one of the creatures missing a foreleg, transforming doubt into certainty. In other words, if something happened to one of the Crimson Bees, he could expect the other two to become aware of this.

While worrying all night, Shuou had tried to formulate a means of escape. First, they could make a getaway during a break in the Crimson Bees’ patrol. If everything went according to plan, that would be their safest path towards freedom. However, because Shuou didn’t know their current location and wasn’t familiar with this mountain’s topography, that wasn’t a realistic plan. Doubly so if he brought along Sa’salia.

Shuou could also wait for the search party from Adulelia, but he didn’t know when the cave would become a target of the Crimson Bees’ hunt. Due to the wide entrance, even an enormous Rabidaemon could access the interior. With little food and unable to secure light, returning inside the cave once more would not provide a solution.

Naturally, he settled on a head-to-head battle: the simplest plan with the greatest potential for loss. Yet if everything went well, he would – in return – gain absolute safety. For this to work, however, he would need determination and the cooperation of his escort.

I’ll talk to her about it.

Considering how much Sa’salia hated insects, he worried about whether or not she would agree to his proposal. Still, even if she did refuse, Shuou had enough energy to convince her otherwise. 

Upon returning to the cave, he found the princess laying face down before the entrance. The blood drained from his face.

“Hey!” he cried, racing over to her.

As he touched her back, she let forth a painful groan. “Uh… ugh…”

“What happened?”

Numerous cuts laced the palms of Sa’salia’s hands. Unseasonal flowers were scattered around the area, vomit expelled here and there. Helping the writhing princess onto her back, he found a single flower petal stuck to her mouth.

“Don’t tell me you ate these,” he said.

Sa’salia’s vacant eyes opened slightly. “You left me behind…”

“And why is that a reason to eat these flowers…? I don’t understand at all.”

Though he didn’t know where she’d found these flowers, they must have provided some kind of special effect. Since the princess had severely injured her hands to acquire them, she must have known that. Preparing water, Shuou rinsed out her mouth. Fortunately, Sa’salia seemed to have expelled most of what she’d swallowed. A terrible nausea appeared to have befallen her, causing the princess to vomit multiple times. To help her feel even a little bit better, Shuou allowed Sa’salia to lean her back on him, placing the cloak he’d borrowed from Hario over her.

As the sun rose high overhead, the princess finally regained her composure. Even so, she remained slightly fevered, warmth from her body seeping into Shuou.

“We’ve come this far together,” said Shuou. Still holding Sa’salia, he spoke with a mixture of exasperation and reproach. “Why would I abandon you now?”

Seeming pained, the princess argued in a hoarse voice. “You disappeared all of a sudden…”

“But my luggage is still right there.”

“You can’t expect me to understand everything…”

“Haa…”

Great sympathy for those who looked after the princess began to bud in Shuou. Despite having thought of her as a selfish woman ignorant of the world, perhaps she was simply stupid. In the years following her traumatic experience, Sa’salia’s mind might have stopped maturing, resulting in her childish aspects.

Spinning around, the princess buried her face in Shuou’s chest, beginning to sob in a whimpering voice. Not knowing what else to do, Shuou could only rub her back.

“You can cry and experience pain because you’re alive,” he said. “Have you given any thought to those who can longer feel anything?”

At once, Sa’salia stopped crying. Shuou’s words had been directed at himself as well as the princess.

I want to live.

As a child, he’d scavenged for leftover food, enduring ridicule all the while. Later, from dawn to dusk each day, he’d undergone grueling training more painful than death. During those times, the desire to live had never left him.

“What about you?” he asked.

In response to his question, Sa’salia paused. Then she shook her head, not looking up. “I don’t know…”

Supporting her shoulders, Shuou lifted the princess’s head. He then glared at her tearful face, scrunched up like a child’s.

“I want to live,” he said. “And I want to bring you home safely. For that purpose, lend me your strength. There’s something I need you to help me with.”

Her eyes tearful and her nose dripping snot, the princess bit her lower lip, nodding once, twice, thrice.

***

Within the painfully silent mountains, only the sound of Sa’salia’s harsh breathing reached Shuou’s ears. He might have expected as much. Right now, the vulnerable princess stood on her own to lure out the lifeforms she most despised. Surrounded by tall mountains, she took up position before a quiet forest devoid of life. All the while, warm sunlight bathed this extraordinarily peaceful world.

Shuou hid within the shadow of a large, fallen tree inside the forest. In his hand, he gripped the longsword that had belonged to Canaria. A few hours ago, he’d informed Sa’salia of his intent to fight the Crimson Bees. By luring the Rabidaemons out one at a time, he would draw the creatures into the forest filled with obstacles, allowing him to fight them at a slight advantage.

Though Shuou had intended to let Sa’salia rest, she still had a slight fever and headache. To be quite honest, he was pushing her too hard. Despite knowing this, Shuou had forcefully obtained her agreement. More than anything else, he possessed a strong premonition that their current predicament would soon become a race against time.

“It’s here,” said Shuou.

A crimson insect hovered in the air. Having heard its beating wings on multiple occasions, Shuou’s ears had grown accustomed to this unpleasant sound.

“O-Over…” Sa’salia stuttered. “Over here!”

Following the instructions given to her, the princess waved her hands in the air, drawing the Crimson Bee’s attention. Having found the prey it had sought for so long, the Rabidaemon started gliding towards her.

It took the bait.

Afterwards, Sa’salia only needed to do as planned, fleeing into the forest, climbing over the large tree in which Shuou hid, and escaping farther inward. Right as the Crimson Bee flew over this large tree, still distracted by its prey, Shuou would thrust his sword upwards, seizing victory from the creature’s blind spot. Across the area, numerous trees overlapped with one another, forming natural barriers to impede flight. A surprise attack from outside its field of vision would render the Crimson Bee’s most troublesome characteristic – its superior eye sight – useless.

Still, nothing ever went exactly as planned. Simultaneously dawdling and fidgety, Sa’salia’s steps were far too slow. As if falling, the Rabidaemon swooped down towards her. Upon landing, the creature used its leg to attack the princess at abnormal speeds.

Somehow, she escaped into the forest, sweat beading on her forehead. Her vision swimming into the far off distance, Sa’salia tripped over her legs, which had stiffened from fear. Completely defenseless, she fell onto the ground.

“Damn it!” cried Shuou.

This required a change of plans. Leaping from the shadow of the giant tree, Shuou grabbed the fallen princess, pulling her up. As the Crimson Bee closed in on them, the creature clicked its teeth, sticking its sharp claws into the ground where Sa’salia had just been. Shuou had saved her by a hair’s breadth.

Sa’salia had become overstimulated, her breathing shallow. Carrying her, Shuou raced onward, leaping over the large tree and weaving through gaps in the forest. If this had been an empty space, the Crimson Bee’s legs would have caught him instantly, but these were intricate woodlands. Furthermore, Shuou had studied the topography beforehand, giving him a slight advantage.

Emitting threatening sounds, the Crimson Bee chased after him, avoiding obstacles and mowing down small trees. Finding a familiar location, Shuou set the princess onto her feet.

“Run straight away from here!” he cried.

At once, Sa’salia dashed off, not uttering a single word. Based on her running style, the princess’s movements had no thought behind them. Rather, instinct propelled her forward.

Turning around, Shuou drew his sword. The Crimson Bee, which had appeared right in front of him, paused for a moment, looking around.

“So she is your target? Still, if I asked for a reason why, I doubt you’d give me one.”

Holding the Bright’s longsword in both hands, he thrust the point forward. Nevertheless, the Rabidaemon ignored him, still preparing to chase after Sa’salia. As the creature took one step forward, Shuou swept his blade towards its foot with all his might. The sound of rending wind rang out. Just before the sword connected, the Crimson Bee raised its foreleg, dodging as if nothing had occurred. 

“Click-click, click-click! “it roared menacingly.

“Your enemy is right in front of you! If you want to reach your prey, you’ll have to fight me!”

Rabidaemons couldn’t understand human languages. Still, even if words proved meaningless, the creature seemed to have understood his provocation. Enraged, the Crimson Bee roared again, attacking Shuou with its two forelegs. Dodging the one aimed at his throat, he stepped back, evading the second assault aimed at his legs.

You’re not the only one with good eyesight.

Unlike human opponents from the past, this Rabidaemon remained on guard. Showing no surprise at Shuou’s evasions, the creature immediately launched its next attack. Winding its tail towards its stomach, a needle protruded slimily from the tip. Able to expand and retract this needle, the Crimson Bee unleashed a spear attack, transparent droplets overflowing from the stinger’s tip. In all likelihood, this was a paralytic poison for capturing its prey alive.

The stinger attacked with speed and strength, giving Shuou little chance of evading with his body. Readying his sword, he repelled the spear-like needle. Just before the tail’s overwhelming force could overpower him, Shuou collapsed onto his knees, skillfully bending backwards. Now on his backside, he scanned the area, finding markings engraved upon trees. He had left these signs himself, indicating suitable places in which to engage the Crimson Bees.

Bending his body, Shuou rolled backwards, shooting onto his feet. At that moment, the stinger propelled towards him once again. 

This is the place.

Shuou deliberately caught his foot in a tree root running through the earth, making a grand display of tripping. In his eye, the world flowed by at a leisurely pace. Right before the poison-dripping stinger stabbed through his chest, he fell straight backwards, causing the needle to pierce thin air. As he dropped into a small depression in the forest, the Rabidaemon continued its charge with the same momentum, stretching over the space above him. For the first time, Shuou had escaped the Crimson Bee’s field of vision.

“I’ve got you now!”

Supporting himself with one arm, Shuou thrust Canaria’s longsword outward, aiming for the Crimson Bee’s defenseless stomach. Despite having a blade stuck through its body, the Rabidaemon couldn’t kill its momentum, tearing the wound open even wider. Unleashing a scream like a rusty wheel, the creature spewed bodily fluids, its life coming to an end.

***

Once Shuou had ordered Sa’salia to run straight ahead, she’d followed those instructions with near foolish earnestness. She had no thoughts of her own. Upon seeing the crimson Rabidaemon, the image of her mother’s agonizing death within the mouth of an insect had risen to mind. Thus, she had lost all composure and ability to think. In her eyes, a dull gray covered the world. The Rabidaemon, whose sheer presence overwhelmed her, had been painted the same color.

Sa’salia’s brain refused to accept any sight that conjured fear. She couldn’t smell the air, couldn’t hear the sound of her harsh, repeated breaths. As such, she didn’t realize that the beating wings of a Rabidaemon were closing in on her from behind.

Exiting the forest, she passed the cave entrance in which they’d slept, racing across a plain of scattered, white boulders. Finally, she reached the edge of a cliff, its height dizzying. The wind blowing from the bottom seemed to beckon her on a journey to the afterlife.

The sun had begun to set, coloring the sky in shades of vermilion. Turning around, Sa’salia found an enormous insect waiting for her. Forgetting to breathe or even blink, the princess merely stared at the monstrosity. The Crimson Bee lifted its foreleg, brandishing its sharp claw. Just before the creature swung its foreleg downwards, a man’s back appeared before her. At once, his voice reached her ears.

“Did you not hear me calling out to you!?”

Sweeping away the Rabidaemon’s foreleg with his blade, Shuou pulled Sa’salia’s hand, distancing them from the enemy. Holding a Bright’s longsword, he moved with exhilarating strength, facing down the Crimson Bee. Sometimes, he came within one step of the creature, lightly dodging its gouging counterattacks. Though she knew nothing of fighting, even Sa’salia could perceive the magnificence of his conduct.

Even so, Shuou’s prospects were moving in a poor direction. A swipe of the Rabidaemon’s claw pushed him backwards, and at the same time, parrying the creature’s constantly shifting stinger required all his strength. Whenever Shuou appeared to have cornered the Crimson Bee with a quick, cunning attack, the creature would beat its wings, unleashing an explosion of air and regaining its position.

Is this… my fault? 

The space around them was wide open, perfect for a Rabidaemon to rampage through with its enormous body. Sa’salia wondered if Shuou had been forced into a disadvantageous battle because of her. Almost certainly, she had made yet another mistake.

Sa’salia’s vision blurred. A convenient escape. She had even lost the strength to accept reality in its true form.

“—————way!”

Had Shuou said something? Sa’salia couldn’t hear, couldn’t understand. Then the Rabidaemon’s stinger pierced his shoulder. At that moment, he collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut. Just like the many Brights before him, paralytic poison must have invaded his body. The Rabidaemon didn’t even attempt to finish him off. Climbing over the motionless Shuou, it moved towards Sa’salia with undivided attention. Thus, the princess fell onto her backside atop the snow. This insect would devour her, as it had done to her mother and father.

As sound retreated, her field of vision clouded over. She couldn’t even recognize colors anymore. For this, Sa’salia derided herself. She had become addicted to hallucinogenic flowers, running away from many things throughout her life. No, she’d never expended much effort, but at the end of flight, her mind and body had become capable of completely blocking out fear. If she called this a triumph, he would most certainly scold her. The princess hung her head, no longer feeling the need to keep her eyes open. She would merely wait for the end. And yet…

“——————!”

Though she shouldn’t have heard anything, something reached her ears. A person’s voice. A man’s voice. A precious sound.

“Look ahead of you! Sa’sa!”

His voice sounded familiar. When it reached her ears, the world suddenly expanded, the grayness reflected in her eyes regaining all its color. A single, crimson stain had fallen upon the beautiful, white expanse. At this very moment, the Rabidaemon was closing in on her. Sa’salia glared at the foreign invader, which had no right to enter the human realm. As she thrust her hand forward, her will could be summarized in a single phrase.

Stop right there!

As poisonous, purple gas borne from Crynetic Energy coiled about the area, the Rabidaemon collapsed head first onto the ground. Even so, Sa’salia’s breath soon grew ragged. She didn’t have enough strength to kill an opponent of this size. After all, she hadn’t put any effort into learning how to control Crynetic Energy. Right now, she could only stall the Crimson Bee for a short while.

The poisonous mist gradually lost its density. Regaining its normal bodily functions, the Rabidaemon raised its two forelegs in front of Sa’salia. In response, the princess held up her hands, assuming a defensive posture. Before a Rabidaemon, this action would prove meaningless, but more than anything else, it served as proof of her desire to live.

“…What?”

The Rabidaemon didn’t move, its forelegs still raised. Peeking through the gaps in her hands, which covered her face, Sa’salia found the creature without a head. As the Crimson Bee thudded onto its side, Shuou stood behind it, his sword swung downward.

“Shuou!”

“You… did well.”

Though Shuou donned a stiff smile, something seemed off. Despite having seized victory, he still held his sword in the same position, not a single finger moving in the slightest. When Sa’salia extended a hand towards him, Shuou collapsed backwards, still gripping the weapon. Finally, Canaria’s longsword parted from his hands.

Sa’salia remembered. From the start, he shouldn’t have been able to move. Racing over to him, she peered into Shuou’s face, finding copious tears spilling from his left eye.

“Why…?” she asked.

Grinning, Shuou revealed his teeth, all of which were painted black. “Before catching up to you, I tossed the whole supply into my mouth. While fighting, I dissolved it with my saliva little by little. It was so bitter, I almost died. When the bastard stung me, I instantly bit down on the Cielo, swallowing all of it. Since then, I haven’t been able to stop crying. But thanks to that, I managed to move my body for a single moment. Fate was on my side.”

His smile had a certain maturity to it, causing Sa’salia to return the expression. “Are you okay?”

“No, I’m not. I can’t move a single finger, and I barely have any feeling left above the neck. Passing out would have been better.”

“But I’m alive,” said Sa’salia, brightness shining through her heart. “All thanks to you.”

Shuou smiled bitterly. “Don’t feel relieved just yet.”

He then gestured with his chin towards the sky. Looking in that direction, Sa’salia found a crimson insect gliding through the heavens.

“It can’t be…” she trailed off.

“I don’t have enough strength to deal with the last one. Can you still use that mist?”

Sa’salia shook her head. “I can’t kill it with my power. At most, I could stall it for a moment.”

“I see…” Swallowing, Shuou watched the situation fearfully. “Even if I told you to run, there’s no place to escape, is there?”

The princess rested her head on Shuou’s chest. “Even if there were, I wouldn’t want to leave you to escape.”

Though he didn’t reply, his soft heartbeat was a melody to her ears. The Rabidaemon had already closed in on them. Before, its beating wings had inspired so much fear in Sa’salia. Now, its flight sounded dull and inconsequential.

“I didn’t… want to die,” said Shuou.

His words pierced Sa’salia’s heart.

Forgive me.

Sa’salia recited those words internally. She hadn’t even thought of an apology in a long time. Yet right now, she couldn’t bring to mind any other phrase. For some reason, the final Rabidaemon heading towards them was missing a foreleg. Folding its wings, the creature thrust out its stinger, gliding in their direction. In all likelihood, the Crimson Bee would finish them off in a single attack.

A few seconds before its arrival, the Rabidaemon spread its wings, lowering its speed. The next moment, four ice wolves appeared without a sound, biting into the creature’s legs. Despite flapping its wings with all its might, the weight of the ice wolves caused the Rabidaemon to gradually lose altitude. The trapped creature made a split second decision. By tearing off its four legs, it escaped the ice wolves’ restraints, fleeing into the distance like a startled rabbit.

Afterwards, nothing remained save for the sky and the world. This commotion, having begun with the attack of three crimson Rabidaemons, came to a quiet end.

***

Having seen everything from start to finish, Shuou’s dulling mind finally realized that help had arrived. As if being lulled into sleep, he now verged on losing consciousness. Seeing the face of a familiar girl peeking at him, relief spread throughout his entire body.

“Ah… uh…”

The poison had already started to permeate his tongue, it seemed.

“I’m sorry,” said Amue Adulelia. “My house will be indebted to you for a lifetime.” 

Tears welling in her small face, the duchess squeezed her hand, placing it against her chest. Afterwards, she parted from Shuou, firing off orders to those in the vicinity.

“Call the apothecary here at once! Once his condition is known, carry this young man to the relay location! Someone go on ahead and prepare the country’s finest doctor! I don’t care who!”

As if replacing the duchess, a second familiar face peered down at Shuou.

Jada Serpentia…?

“Good work,” he said, looking down upon Shuou. “I’ve never seen anyone so exhausted.”

His words irritated Shuou.

“On our way here, I saw a dead Rabidaemon in the forest,” continued Jada. “You’re the one who killed it, aren’t you? I don’t even need to ask.” Glancing at the nearby, decapitated Crimson Bee, the handsome Bright narrowed his eyes. “Do you know why we call some creatures monsters?”

Without a functioning tongue, Shuou couldn’t answer. In response to Jada’s eccentric question, he could only furrow his brow in displeasure.

“We label creatures beyond our control as monsters. In that case, Rabidaemons fit the description perfectly. However, that begs the question: as someone who can slaughter those monsters without Crynetic Energy, what are you?”

His eyes seeming to lick Shuou, Jada plastered a smirk across his face, chuckling.

Shut up.

If Shuou could move, he would have pinned Jada down by the nape of his neck.

“Settle down,” said Jada. “I’m complimenting you. Also, I’d appreciate your sympathy. In all likelihood, I’ll be forced to carry you while walking through these mountains. And I barely got any sleep on the way here.”

Donning a wry smile, Jada scratched his head, dark circles under his eyes. Seeing this, Shuou felt somewhat satisfied. At the same time, his eyelids were heavy, and he wondered if Sa’salia had been taken into custody. Still, with Duchess Adulelia present, he didn’t need to worry anymore. He could finally go to sleep.

***

Fresh snow – a remnant of winter’s lingering aroma – covered the courtyard of Adulelia Manor. Underneath the veil of nighttime, the pure white powder dissolved into the muted darkness. However, when bathing in moonlight, it shone with a silver gleam. As wind slipped through the leafless branches of trees, they swayed to and fro, producing a rustling sound.

“May I sit with you?” asked Sa’salia.

“…Sure,” replied Shuou.

The princess took a seat next to him on the courtyard bench.

“Welcome back,” he said.

“Thank you.”

“How were the Faiths?”

“Marquis Faith… seemed very sad. I apologized, but he insisted that his daughter had merely done her job. On the other hand, he was very grateful for what you did. ‘I’m glad he sent Canaria into the afterlife while she was still beautiful.’ Those were his words.”

Shuou’s face twisted in self-derision. “Glad…?”

“Should you be walking this far all by yourself?”

“Half a month has already passed. I need to hurry up and regain my strength.”

Sa’salia scooted to the side, snuggling up to Shuou. Immediately, Shuou also scooted to the side, opening up the same amount of space as before. After repeating this several more times, Sa’salia finally chased him to the edge of the bench. When Shuou let forth a tremendous sigh, the princess touched his hand lightly.

“Don’t push yourself too hard,” she said.

Shuou turned the other way. “…I know.”

“Hey,” said the princess, wrapping her arm around Shuou’s and leaning into him. “Call me by that name again. Like you did back then.”

Shuou answered bluntly, averting his gaze. “No.”

“Why? Back then, you—”

“I only used that name to draw your attention while you were spacing out.”

Shoulders slumping, Sa’salia pouted her lips. “At the very least… don’t call me princess.”

In response to her sulking, Shuou rose from his seat and knelt down. “Let us return to the manor, Your Highness. If you stay outside any longer, you’ll catch a cold.”

A short silence followed. Seeing Shuou act like the majority of her vassals, tears began to form in Sa’salia’s eyes. However, upon closer inspection, his shoulders were shaking in short, repeated spasms. Unable to bear it any longer, Shuou laughed at himself for acting so out of character.

Wiping away her tears, Sa’salia raised a meager protest. “Don’t tease me like that…”

“I was joking. How could I ever refer to you as “princess” when you’re not even close to self-sufficient?”

“Exactly.”

Despite his joking tone, Sa’salia took his words seriously.

“Can I stay here a little while longer?” she asked.

“As long as you want.”

Shuou sat on the opposite side of her from before, seemingly to place distance between them. In actuality, he did it to block the wind from that direction. The cold night, which had once permeated her body, no longer reached Sa’salia.

Original text: https://ncode.syosetu.com/n4006r/18/

Chapter 35: The End of Flight V

Climbing the gentle slope from the cliff bottom, they headed towards the small forest beyond. To escape from the Rabidaemons, Princess Sa’salia and her escorts had – in all likelihood – searched for a place to hide. Though Jada and company were relying on their instincts, they couldn’t have been too far off the mark, as there were no other suitable places in which to take refuge.

The forest snow appeared to be melting. Even the thinly remaining, accumulated patches had begun to thaw in places, revealing spots of darkly colored earth. After a short walk, the line of trees came to an end, a vast mountain range unfolding before them. Beyond the ridgeline, the sun had just risen, finally ready to begin performing its job. Despite his expectations, Jada found no trace of footprints, perhaps due to the small amount of falling snow.

“Up till now, I’ve seen no signs of people having stopped for a break,” the duchess said to the apothecary. “Is there no place to rest around here?”

Grunting, the old man withdrew a worn out map, tracing their current surroundings. “Come to think of it, a long time ago, those who worked in the mountains used a narrow cave around here…”

“Where? Where is it!?”

“Not far from here, I believe. Let’s try heading in that direction.”

The old man walked with a light step. Passing Jada, who had been at the front, he began leading the group. Based on the small pieces of information Jada had heard so far, the old apothecary felt a sense of duty in saving the princess of Murakumo.

“Don’t push those fragile bones too hard,” Jada said in jest. “I’d rather not hike through the mountains while carrying an old man with an injured back.”

“I might have weakened in my old age, but I’ve been hiking through these mountains for years,” the apothecary chuckled. “This feels no different from a walk in a garden.”

True to his word, the old man chose an easily traversable path, taking firm steps towards an unseen, snow hidden location. Even Jada – young and healthy – struggled to keep up with him.

After walking for a time, the old man stopped, glaring at their surroundings. “How odd.”

“What’s wrong?” the duchess asked, somewhat anxious.

“Something’s not right here. After coming this far, the entrance to the cave at the bottom of this slope should have come into view.”

“You can’t see it?”

“No, I can’t. Snow from an avalanche might have hidden it from our sight.”

“An avalanche…? Are there any other places to take shelter from the elements?”

The old man shook his head. “Not to my knowledge, Your Excellency.”

“…So we’ve lost our lead,” said the duchess, seeming troubled.

“Why don’t we split into two groups and continue our search?” suggested Jada.

The duchess shot him down at once. “It would be inefficient to continue the search with so few people when we’ve lost sight of our plan. We’ll set up camp in this area, gather more personnel, and use all of our resources to keep looking for the princess… Wait, what’s that?”

The duchess stopped speaking, looking up at the sky. Jada and the others imitated her, growing wary of their surroundings.

“This sound—”

As the beating of wings rang out, an enormous, crimson insect approached them from the sky, heavy vibrations running through the air.

“The Rabidaemon!”

When the duchess shouted, her warriors drew their swords, forming a circle around her. Gliding through the air, the crimson Rabidaemon closed in on them in a straight line. Without delay, Jada refined his Crynetic Energy to produce a blade of wind, imagining a single line stretching across the world. This thread was so thin and delicate, it couldn’t be seen with the naked eye. At the same time, it possessed the shape of a blade compressed to the utmost limit. Sweeping his right hand, Jada launched this thread towards the Rabidaemon.

You’re finished.

The creature showed no signs of having sensed the Crynetic Energy. And of course, Jada had confidence in this attack. Yet right before the thread sliced it in half, the Rabidaemon halted its glide, dodging the strike.

“I expected no less from a monster,” said Jada.

Once again, the Rabidaemon began its descent. The creature fell so fast, Jada might have called it a plummet. Yet before colliding with the ground, the crimson Rabidaemon flapped its wings, softening the impact of its landing. Assuming a threatening stance, the creature clicked its teeth, its lustrously black, compound eyes glowering at Jada. Behind him, the men protecting the duchess didn’t watch on in silence. Ten icicles shot towards the Rabidaemon, but even so, the creature now had its feet on the ground, racing across the earth. Seemingly able to anticipate the icy projectiles, the crimson insect dodged all of them.

Can it see everything?

While moving, Jada spread out the wind blade under his control, blowing up the surrounding snow and creating an impromptu veil. If the white curtain – now covering his line of sight – blinded the Rabidaemon, it wouldn’t be able to detect his movements. Similar to the one he’d launched before, Jada swept another sharply woven thread towards his opponent.

No response.

He couldn’t hear Rabidaemon’s death throes. Likewise, he couldn’t sense its body collapsing. On the contrary, it was bizarrely quiet. Jada then realized that he’d lost his field of vision as well. He felt restless, as if a sword hung above his head. From the opposite side of the white curtain, a crimson foreleg – long and slender – extended towards him.

“Damn it!”

Jada didn’t have time to create a Crynetic shield or wall. He dodged, but the sharp claw extending from the creature’s foreleg gouged the flesh of his right shoulder, lukewarm blood flowing down his arm.

“Step back!”

Jada retreated, obeying the voice of the girl behind him.

The kicked up snow disappeared, revealing the composed form of a crimson Rabidaemon. Suddenly and without sound, multiple ice hands extended from below its feet. The fingers twisted about to apprehend the insect’s legs, but despite being a surprise attack, the creature flapped its wings, trying to escape. Before long, one of the countless hands extending from the ground seized one of the Rabidaemon’s forelegs. Regardless of the captured monster’s struggles to escape, the icy hand – seemingly rooted to the ground – refused to budge. Giving up, the Rabidaemon used its other foreleg to cut off the portion within the ice hand’s grasp, soaring high into the heavens.

Once again, the duchess spoke from behind. “If it looks like it’s coming back…!”

Leaking bodily fluids, the Rabidaemon – having lost one leg – remained airborne for a short while. However, it soon chose to retreat. Back turned and gaining altitude, the creature disappeared alongside the sound of beating wings. Sinking onto the ground, Jada held his injured shoulder. Though he wanted immediate treatment, he couldn’t depend upon the apothecary, as the old man had collapsed, fainting from overwhelming fear.

That monster was toying with me.

Surpassing his pain, bitter vexation welled in Jada’s heart. No matter his opponent, he had always emerged victorious in serious battles. Even when fighting a Rabidaemon, he couldn’t allow for defeat or a draw.

“You’re severely wounded, Jada Serpentia,” said Duchess Adulelia. “It appears you’re not as strong as your infamy would suggest.”

Jada glared back at her. “And what about you!? Of all people, you should have been able to bring down that insect. Why didn’t you kill it?”

“I wanted to see how it would react. Additionally, I found myself interested in how it would fight.”

“And as a result, you just let it escape?”

“Indeed. I wanted to know in which direction it would flee.” Looking at the blood flowing from Jada’s shoulder, the duchess called for someone. “Quickly, tend to this child of serpents.”

As Jada received treatment to staunch the blood, the duchess continued speaking.

“That Rabidaemon was exceptionally intelligent for its kind. It fought as if testing us and quickly retreated upon judging its poor prospects. Based on these two observations, that creature is far different from a lower life form acting on its instincts. In all likelihood, the attack on the princess wasn’t coincidental.”

Due to pain and irritation, Jada spat out a refutation. “To a Rabidaemon, the bearer of Orthoclase and an old man passed out on the ground wouldn’t look any different. It’s not possible for their kind to target and attack a specific person.”

The duchess – who looked like a child – squatted before Jada, peering into his face.

“I thought it impossible for Her Highness to suddenly venture deep into the mountains late at night,” she said. “Even if such a thing had occurred, I would have expected the princess’s servants to advise her against such foolishness. And finally, I thought it impossible for Rabidaemons to appear in the world of humans with a specific target in mind. Sometimes, the word “impossible” keeps the truth at a distance, leading to disastrous mistakes. We shouldn’t make such assumptions, don’t you think?”

The duchess never took her eyes off Jada. In response, he raised his hands in surrender. “I understand. Since you’re acting so self-important, do you mind sharing your thoughts, Lady Orthoclase?”

Still squatting, Duchess Adulelia nodded.

“I assumed that the Rabidaemons invaded the Havens in search of food, but in that case, they should have fulfilled their purpose some time ago. Nevertheless, they left most of the horse and Bright remains, which could have served as sustenance, intact. Now, also consider how we encountered that Rabidaemon while in pursuit of the princess. With that in mind, their mission being a hunt or search makes far more sense. Despite hating the highlands, those Rabidaemons have stayed here all this time. Is it so hard to believe that they’re still searching for the princess, who managed to escape from their clutches?”

Contemplating her words, Jada cocked his head. “I can’t say anything for certain, but considering our lack of clues, that might be a good place to start.”

The duchess nodded again. “Indeed. And if my theory proves correct, the Rabidaemons haven’t confirmed the princess’s death either, which gives us hope. Right now, that reassures me more than anything else.”

When the ruler of Adulelia smiled bashfully, she looked like a young girl befitting her appearance.

“We’ll leave behind one messenger and follow the Rabidaemon in the direction it fled,” she continued. “Yes, it’s a bit of a gamble, but we might find a clue. You have no objections, I presume.”

His bleeding staunched, Jada shrugged his shoulder, adopting a jocular attitude. “Don’t pretend you ever had any intent of listening to me.”

Standing, the duchess folded her arms. “Of course I didn’t!”

***

How long had Shuou traversed the narrow, winding path of this cave?

Completely unaware of the outside situation, he could no longer tell how much time had passed since he’d entered this place. As his senses grew increasingly numb, he could only rely upon his hunger and his body’s rough perception of time. Based on those feelings, either the sun was setting or the moon had vaguely begun to reveal itself.

Despite having injured himself when falling from the cliff, he wasn’t severely wounded. Regardless, a dull pain still throbbed throughout his entire body. Furthermore, he hadn’t been able to rest while sleeping on solid, rocky ground, and he’d given all the decent food to Sa’salia. As a result, he’d only gulped down poisonous colored mushrooms and unidentifiable insects along with his pills. Far from being satiated, he had to endure blurred vision and shaking fingertips due to the small amount of toxicity now in his body.

Even so, Shuou thought.

Having endured Amane’s grueling training, this situation was a mere extension of his everyday life. Under these circumstances, having been thrown into the Abyss and forced to survive proved quite useful. Still, he couldn’t ignore the fact that he’d always been alone on those occasions.

“Are you okay?” Shuou called out to Sa’salia, who staggered along behind him.

“Yes, I’m fine.” 

Faintly, she smiled back at him. Since they’d started walking through the cave together, her complete change in attitude had baffled Shuou. He understood that she felt affection for him, but the extreme nature of those emotions made him uncomfortable.

So far, the ground they’d walked upon hadn’t been flat. There were numerous uneven surfaces and craggy areas covered in rocks. Since crossing the small lake, Sa’salia hadn’t uttered a word of complaint, but Shuou worried about the princess overexerting herself. When he remembered Aise injuring her foot while traversing the Abyss, his concerns only increased.

“Let’s stop here for today,” said Shuou, setting down his belongings. 

In response, Sa’salia nodded silently. Despite making preparations for sleep in a calm manner, this wasn’t a situation in which they could take a leisurely break. Shuou’s Moonstones – their sole source of illumination – were decreasing at a steady rate. He didn’t know if the remaining ores would last a full day or not. Likewise, he was still unsure of where this path would lead. Upon losing their light, they would have to walk while groping around in complete darkness. That would push them to the limit both physically and mentally.

Shuou held out his hand to Sa’salia, who had arranged her sleeping place next to Shuou. “Show me your feet.”

“…Why?”

“Aren’t they hurt from walking around for so long? If you push yourself too hard, it could cause trouble in the future.”

“My feet don’t hurt, but…”

Despite her denial, Sa’salia removed her shoes, stretching out her feet. Seeming embarrassed, she looked down. Disregarding this, Shuou inspected them.

“No injuries,” he said. “In fact, they’re quite lovely.”

While speaking, he twisted her ankle, examining her expression. She showed no sign of being in pain. As Sa’salia had said, she appeared in good health.

She’s a strong woman. 

Before entering the cave, Sa’salia had walked as if minding her foot. However, the injury seemed to have healed even while traveling down this treacherous road. Despite being somewhat puzzled, Shuou felt relieved, having confirmed that the burdensome princess wasn’t feigning composure. In that case, he wouldn’t have to worry about carrying her on his back.

***

Once the lights were extinguished, an eager Sa’salia wanted to talk in the dark until she fell asleep. Among other things, she asked Shuou about his adoptive guardian, how he’d become a Murakumo Squire, and what had led to him being under the care of Duchess Adulelia. Since he wasn’t very tired, Shuou answered each of these questions earnestly, and from beginning to end, Sa’salia seemed to enjoy listening to him. However, when the topics expanded, touching upon family, her spirits visibly shrank.

“Do you want to meet your mother and father?” she asked.

Within the darkness, the princess’s casual question caused Shuou’s heart to tremble. “Honestly, I have thought about it. But if they’re the type of people to abandon a small child, I wouldn’t even want to see their faces.”

Due to his young age, Shuou hadn’t understood why he’d been alone in the capital of Murakumo. Upon coming to awareness, he’d found himself scavenging for leftover food, unable to rely on anyone else. Yes, he might have been separated from his parents for some unavoidable reason, but his imagination always skewed in a more negative direction.

Darkness all around him, Shuou placed a gentle hand to his eyepatch. If he’d been tossed aside because of his hideous face, would he be able to call the people responsible for his abandonment “parents”?

Shuou’s thoughts began plummeting towards a bottomless darkness. To escape, he turned the question back on Sa’salia. “What about you?”

“Well…”

At a loss for words, the princess sighed.

What a stupid question.

Of course she wanted to see her parents again. Despite both being orphans, Sa’salia had known the love and warmth of her parents, whereas Shuou had never seen nor heard his mother or father. Their thoughts and emotions would be completely different. Both of them had asked each other insensitive questions. Yet in this space separated from the rest of the world, those inquiries seemed permissible.

“Did you not have any brothers or sisters?” asked Shuou. “I know a young noblewoman with siblings from different mothers. That’s normal for the aristocracy, right?”

“My father only loved my mother,” said Sa’salia, a certain pride in her voice.

“That doesn’t make any sense. With the royal family so small, he should have tried to leave behind more descendants.”

“In ages past, arranged marriages were continuously forced upon the royal family, compelling them to have as many children as possible with whoever they could develop feelings for. But long ago, the family tree split in too many directions. A terrible clash for the throne broke out, spilling copious amounts of blood. Afterwards, the royal family began to love and marry as they wished, no longer forced to bear children. That’s what I’ve heard, in any case.”

If Sa’salia’s story were true, the royal family had made a grave mistake. Right now, the last remaining person of that precious bloodline sat beside Shuou in a critical situation.

Sa’salia continued speaking.

“Humans are given a limited number of times in which we can talk about true love. My mother often said that. Yes, we can only have children with those who share our feelings, but perhaps she meant something different. Do you—” The princess’s cold, thin finger touched Shuou’s arm. “Do you already have… such a partner?”

“I…”

Shuou hesitated. Among the women he’d met, some of them had clearly expressed their affection for him in their bearings. What exactly did he feel towards them? Unable to answer his own question, Sa’salia’s hand gripped his arm tighter and tighter.

“Right now, I’m not in a position to think about that,” he said. “I have no home or money. Sharing my life with someone would be impossible.”

Sa’salia’s firm grip around his arm loosened. “Yes… I see.”

Though quiet, her voice sounded excited. The princess then leaned her body against Shuou’s. He found her softness not altogether unpleasant, her body heat providing a slight sense of relief. 

Kumokari, Jiro, two young noblewomen, and his colleagues from Winter Fortress all came to mind. Would they believe that a person like Shuou had slept side by side with a princess? Their conversation fading, both of them drifted off.

***

Sunlight shining before him, Shuou exhaled a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness.”

As if looking upon an illusion, Sa’salia narrowed her vacant eyes. “Is that… the exit?”

“Yes. When I saw traces of people having come and gone, I thought we might be close.”

Strength returning to his exhausted feet, Shuou took Sa’salia’s hand, leading her outside in a state of mental tranquility. In response to the warm, radiant sunlight, he made an umbrella with his hand. As an invigorating wind blew past, heralding the change of seasons, he filled his chest with the fresh, mountain air. Above, the risen sun glared down upon the accumulated snow.

Since waking, they had probably walked for a half a day, somehow conquering this cave’s narrow road before their Moonstones ran out. His most pressing source of anxiety banished, Shuou broke into a smile. However, the princess’s expression remained strangely clouded.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. “After this, we just need to—”

Shuou cut off, bracing himself against the sense of unease that arrived faster than sound.

Damn it all.

In response to the dull vibration echoing in his ears, Shuou cursed inwardly.

“Back inside!” he cried.

“Huh?”

Without asking for permission, Shuou picked up Sa’salia in his arms, racing towards the gloomy cave’s entrance. While cradling the princess, Shuou looked upward from the shadow of a boulder. As he did so, a crimson Rabidaemon leisurely advanced through the azure sky.

“They’re still searching for us?” he asked.

Shuou had grown tired of their persistence. While he and the princess had been wandering the cave, had the Rabidaemons been circling the perimeter? If – as he’d assumed – the Crimson Bee’s were targeting Sa’salia, this would be a troublesome situation.

Systematically, the Crimson Bees flew around the area in circles. After a short while, the creatures soared off in the opposite direction from which they’d come. Moving away from the entrance just far enough for the light to reach, Shuou set down the princess, slumping onto the ground. As he expelled the accumulated air from his lungs, his tension dispersing as well, Sa’salia posed an anxious question.

“Should we wait here for help to come?”

“We don’t have much food left. With just water, we could probably survive a while longer, but we’d be fighting exhaustion.”

“I see.”

Duchess Adulelia would have become aware of this situation some time ago, taking measures to find them. Even so, Shuou had traveled a long distance from the original scene of the attack. While still covered in hard snow, the opposite entrance of this cave would be difficult to find. Expecting a search party to locate them without any clues was an overly convenient way of thinking. Clinging to vague hope would only exhaust their stamina, inviting a situation in which they could no longer take action.

Her eyes vacant, Sa’salia stared at Shuou calmly.

“Let me think for a little while,” he said.

Knees tucked under his chin, Shuou buried his face in them. While trying to survive alone in the Abyss, he’d often slept in this position. In the end, he and Sa’salia drifted off upon the cold, sharp surface of the cave on this day, too.

Original text: https://ncode.syosetu.com/n4006r/18/

Chapter 34: The End of Flight IV

Late that night, a deathly tense atmosphere hovered over the conference room of Adulelia.

“Raise your head, you imbecile!” cried Amue, raining merciless words upon the man quivering in fear.

Uncovering the old apothecary’s whereabouts had been simple enough. Seeing as he did business in the market on a daily basis, that was only natural. The man had already been told of the princess’s disappearance, and two things were partly to blame: the information he’d given Jada Serpentia and the prohibited medicine he sold. Upon learning this, the apothecary had become so flustered, he’d almost passed out.

Surrounded by warriors and senior vassals of House Adulelia, the old man remained prostrated, his forehead scraping the ground. “Y-Y-Y-Your Excellency… Lady Orthoclase! Please, please, have mercy on me…”

The ruler of Adulelia glared down at a mere commoner, spitting at him. “I told you to raise your head!”

“Of courshe!”

Seeing Amue so furious, her surrounding vassals and blood relatives grew flustered as well. The duchess hardly ever intimidated her subjects, regardless of age, gender, or position. Until now, she’d despised – above all else – the act of wielding power over the weak without reason. However, due to the urgency of their current situation, the benevolent duchess had forgotten her usual state of mind.

When the old man finally raised his head, he looked terrified, snot dripping from his nose.

“You’ve been dealing in contraband,” said Amue. “And of all things, you’re brazenly selling foul medicines that rot the mind!”

“Y-Yes, but I only sell flowers that have been thoroughly dried in the sun, removing their ill effects…”

“I’m not looking for excuses. Did you tell the man seeking to buy your flowers where to gather them?”

“U-Umm…” the old man trailed off, unable to meet Amue’s gaze.

“Did you?” the duchess pressed.

“Well, the thing is… I lied. Amongst apothecaries, where we gather our medicinal ingredients is vital information for our continued livelihoods. When giving the Bright my location, I… um, left the precise details ambiguous.”

Amue dropped a map in front of the old, prostrate man. “Explain to me – word for word – everything you told that Bright. Don’t even consider lying, as I will confirm everything with him later. Afterwards, you will join our search party and act as our guide.”

“Y-Yes… But due to a lower back injury, I don’t travel deep into the mountains very often…”

When the old man averted his gaze, not giving a clear answer, Amue’s irritation multiplied. “Your son and his wife work as apothecaries in the capital, do they not? And your grandchild will soon turn ten.”

The old man’s face paled.

“From now on, the fate of those you care about rests upon everything you say and do,” Amue finished.

***

“Here is your red tea, Lady Amue,” said Kazahina, approaching her with deliberate gentleness. “Served warm with sugar.”

“Indeed.” Swallowing a small spoon’s worth of warm tea, Amue looked at her vassals, who stood around her anxiously. “You have my permission to laugh. Despite being the bearer of a Radiantore and the ruler of a great territory, I couldn’t suppress my emotions before a single, aging citizen.”

Immediately, one person stepped forward from the line. It was Kunekaki. 

“Mistress!” he cried. “None of us is laughing at you. We all understand the severity of our present situation.”

Everyone nodded in agreement with Kunekaki’s statement.

“I see,” said Amue. “Rather than keeping up appearances, we must now do what is necessary. Thankfully, if we combine the apothecary’s statement with Yuuhina’s information, I can more or less envision the site of the princess’s assault.”

She pointed to the map on the rectangular table in the middle of the room. Following this gesture, people naturally circled around the table.

“The northern outskirts of the fifteenth mountain road?” asked Kazahina, tracing the map.

“Before my lifetime, a bridge across the valley led to the Abyss,” replied Amue. “However, in the event of a northern invasion, it was decided that this road would become a weak point in Adulelia’s defense, leading to its abandonment. If the princess’s company traveled through here, enough of a road must still exist for a carriage to pass through. We’ll head there first.”

“Please, allow me to lead the search party,” said Kunekaki, volunteering himself right away.

Combined with his composure and plentiful experience, Amue trusted his skill as a warrior. Yes, Kunekaki was perfect for the job. However…

“Sending a large number of excess members would slow down the squadron,” said the duchess. “I will lead the search party myself, taking along a small number of elite soldiers.”

At once, everyone in the room stirred.

“No!” cried Kunekaki, the old vassal’s bloodshot, pleading eyes turned upon her. “What if anything should happen to you, Lady Orthoclase?”

Likewise, the others voiced words of admonition to their master.

“Right now, the princess’s life is more important,” said Amue. “I still haven’t given up on finding her.”

Based on Yuuhina’s story, most of those present already considered the princess dead. They regarded Amue’s life as more important, as she possessed the monarch’s stone, which would prove indispensable when faced with the troubles likely ahead of them. Despite escaping the fate of old age, Radiantore bearers were still human. Though Amue had no intention of losing to a Rabidaemon in terms of strength, the threat of death always loomed over her.

“The fact that I – as the head of Adulelia – led the search myself could prove beneficial later on,” she explained. “Others might grasp our desperation, viewing our actions as sincere. And to prove this, I’ll have someone from a different house accompany me.”

“Are you referring to…?” Kazahina trailed off.

Amue nodded. “I’ll be taking Jada Serpentia with me.” 

An even greater tumult enveloped the room.

“You’re bringing the serpent’s child with you on such an important mission? You can’t be serious!”

“And he’s going to personally accompany you, Lady Orthoclase?”

In particular, her male relatives showed tremendous outrage. House Adulelia despised Serpentia, and the same could be said in reverse. Their mutual hatred had been passed down through many, many generations. At this point, one could call the relationship between these two families a tradition.

Clapping her hands twice, Amue drew everyone’s attention back to her. “His accompaniment has value because he is of Serpentia. The entire country knows of the relationship between our house and theirs. If it comes from the mouth of Serpentia, people will believe that the head of Adulelia herself led the search for the princess. Since Jada bears partial responsibility for this matter, he won’t refuse to testify.”

Upon hearing this, those voicing their discontent fell silent. They had maintained enough composure to weigh the advantages and disadvantages.

“In preparation for a possible Rabidaemon attack inside the city, station the garrison in tight groups,” said Amue. “Kunekaki, continue your strict oversight of the gates. Accept those entering, but don’t allow even a single pebble outside. Until we determine whether or not the princess survived, completely seal the leak of information from within.”

“Yes, Mistress!” cried Kunekaki.

Despite having no conclusive evidence, she then ordered him to dispatch young warriors of the clan to the second and third possible locations of the princess’s assault.

“Kazahina,” said Amue.

“Yes,” she answered.

“You are now the acting head of our house. Assess the overall situation and take charge in my absence.”

With these words, Amue had appointed Kazahina as her successor. The young wolves of Adulelia tried and failed to hide their complicated emotions.

Without pausing, Kazahina placed her left hand over her chest, nodding. “I accept your appointment. Even so, please return safely.”

Unable to think of a response, Amue squeezed the hand of her adjutant, who struggled to conceal her apprehension.

***

Led by Duchess Adulelia, the first search party departed before dawn. Traveling at a quick pace, a total of twelve horses raced across the late night, mountain pathways. The duchess rode at the center of her search party, a group of men forming a tight wall to protect her on all sides.

She had chosen twelve warriors to accompany her, their faces hidden. Based on the stones in their gauntlets, all of them had received training as Brights. Yet judging from their strange hoods, which covered all but their eyes, and their lightly fluttering, black clothes, these were not reputable men.

They’re the same as me, thought Jada Serpentia, who took the lead.

As if chasing him, the others followed behind, inspiring this impression.

The duchess had personally requested for Jada to accompany her search party. Even amongst outsiders, House Serpentia was especially loathed. Thus, Jada could guess why she’d asked him to come along. He would serve as a witness to this affair.

Likewise, the duchess had dragged along the old apothecary as a guide, assigning Jada as his protector. Despite having no complaints about the task itself, having the old man ride atop the same horse wasn’t comfortable. With two people sitting astride a single mount, he couldn’t control the creature at will.

Behind Jada, the old man rocked atop the horse, muttering disconsolately. “Haa… How did I end up in this mess?”

“It sounds as if you’re implicitly blaming me,” said Jada.

“Of course. How did selling you a flower and sharing a trivial piece of information lead to something as outrageous as the princess’s disappearance? Based on what I heard, all this happened because you told my story to Her Highness.”

“My, my, what a thing to say. This happened because you deceived me. Hearing you shift the blame of such an enormous lie, I can only imagine what sort of life you’ve lived.”

“Say whatever you want. After drawing the attention of the Ice Princess, nothing frightens me anymore. So as not to trouble my son, I’ll quietly do as told from now on…”

Slumping his shoulders, the old man went limp. His  head – seemingly empty of thought – jerked in time with the horse’s gait.

Turning around, Jada spoke loudly enough to overpower the melody of racing hooves. “I never expected Duchess Adulelia to issue threats while using her subjects’ families as shields. Your hobbies belie your appearance.”

“Hold your forked tongue, serpent!”

As the duchess shouted, those surrounding her glared daggers at Jada.

The old man, who had surreptitiously looked rearward with Jada, drew his shoulders back. “Those men give me the creeps. They seem to have Sunstones, but based on their appearances, they aren’t your average Brights…”

“Those men probably belong to a unit called the Shadow Wolves, which undertakes Adulelia’s darker jobs. Since the duchess chose to bring them along, they must be the most elite of their number.”

In response to Jada’s explanation, the old man shook his head in an exaggerated manner. “Aaah! You’ve got to be kidding me! I don’t want to hear this, especially at my age!”

“Aren’t you the one who asked?”

Jada enjoyed observing the old man, who grew more sullen by the moment. Likely, some part of him understood as well. Duchess Adulelia hadn’t brought them along merely to help look for the princess.

If we can’t confirm Princess Sa’salia’s safety…

Jada cast a sideways glance behind him. Faces covered, the Shadow Wolves stared back at him.

When that time comes, I’ll make every effort to survive.

His face split into a grin.

As they traveled down the twisting roads, the old man scrutinized several branching paths. Partway through their journey, Duchess Adulelia expressed her exasperated amazement that he would venture down such roads. Suddenly, the atmosphere changed, a strong wind blowing from up ahead. Reacting to the stench mixed within the air, everyone stopped their horses.

Turning around, Jada called out to the duchess. “You’ve noticed the smell, haven’t you?”

Not attempting to conceal her unease, the duchess bit her lip. “Yes, the stench is filling my brain. We weren’t wrong about the location, it would seem…”

“Shall we have a look?”

“Don’t finish that thought. I’ll send two scouts.”

As the duchess spoke, the men clad in black used sign language to select and dispatch their scouts. Combined with their silence, the Shadow Wolves’ hidden forms seemed ominous to Jada. Underneath their distasteful, black clothes, relatively famous individuals might have been mixed within their number.

The dispatched scouts soon returned, whispering into the duchess’s ear.

“Let’s go,” she said, her voice dull and expression bitter.

Whatever lay beyond would not be pleasant. With Jada at the lead, the party rode their horses forward at a normal walk.

“Dawn will soon be upon us,” said the old man.

Indeed, when Jada looked around, his field of vision had improved. The withered branches extending from either side of the road had broken in places, creating distorted shapes. Further onward, the stench grew heavier and heavier. As the morning sun purified the darkness, a light mist slowly began to envelop the area.

A gust of wind blew past, causing Jada to squint. An open space then appeared, human and equine remains scattered about the area. Greasy sweat seeped from the neck of the dark bay horse on which Jada rode. Trying their mounts to nearby trees, the party observed the horrific scene unfolding before them. The old man, who had timidly followed along, vomited upon witnessing this dreadful sight.

Because of his experience on the battlefield, Jada had grown accustomed to dead bodies, but among the corpses lying around, a number of them looked abnormal. Though their clothes and hair remained intact, their insides appeared to have been completely removed. If garments existed in the shape of humans, they would look something like this. However, judging from the Miracrystals still on their left hands, these corpses had once been people.

Donning leather gloves, Jada touched one of the strange corpses. Though the skin felt springy, not the slightest resistance of flesh came from the inside. In some places, he still felt a small amount of resistance from bones, but none of them were in perfect condition.

“It seems as though there’s still information we haven’t heard,” said Jada.

“According to a survivor, a group of Rabidaemons attacked Princess Sa’salia’s company,” said the duchess, sweat beading her forehead as she observed the scene. “Until seeing this for myself, the realization hadn’t sunk in.”

Hearing this, the old man – who had just wiped his soiled mouth – let out a scream. “Rabidaemons!? In the mountains?”

“It’s unusual but not unheard of,” said the duchess, seeming to no longer grasp to whom she spoke.

Jada lifted one of the flimsy corpses deprived of its insides, shaking it. “This being the work of Rabidaemons makes sense. These are probably the leftovers from their meal.”

Seeing this, the old man, the duchess, and even the silent warriors wrinkled the corners of their eyes, displaying fear and revulsion.

So even the Shadow Wolves are human.

Having enjoyed their reactions, Jada tossed the flimsy corpse aside.

“So, what are you going to do?” he asked. “I don’t see the princess’s carriage anywhere.”

“Her carriage… fell from the cliff up ahead, I was told,” said the duchess, not budging in the slightest. 

Considering her usual vigor, she seemed like a different person, almost wilted. Still, based on what lay ahead, her clan would be in dire straits.

Can’t blame her.

The black-clad warriors hardly moved of their own accord. They stood around the duchess, silently forming a tight wall. Having no other choice, Jada peered down the cliff himself. No one stopped him.

“I can see a half-destroyed carriage and what appear to be the remains of Brights,” he reported.

“…I see,” said the duchess.

Even now, she refused to issue any orders, not budging an inch. Standing, Jada brushed off his hands, looking at the terrified, old man who had fallen on his backside.

“Do any roads lead down there?” he asked.

“T-There is a road,” said the apothecary, “but we can’t use horses, and we won’t arrive until the afternoon.” 

Sighing, Jada exchanged glances with the duchess. “You heard the man. No point staying put, right?”

While the duchess equivocated, one of her guards whispered into her ear.

“We’ll descend directly to the bottom using a rope,” she finally answered.

Jada shrugged his shoulders. “I assume that means me as well?” 

“Of course! You’ll be the first to descend!”

What a temper, Jada sighed inwardly.

Since they had all the necessary tools prepared, using a rope to rappel from the cliff proved easier than expected. As the first to arrive at the bottom, Jada immediately saw the half-destroyed carriage. Afterwards, the duchess began her descent, carried on the back of one of her guards. Before she could reach the bottom, Jada called out to her.

“Congratulations, Your Excellency. I don’t see the princess anywhere.”

“R-Really!?” the duchess called from overhead, lacking composure. Her voice sounded younger and more suited to her appearance than usual. Upon reaching the bottom, she raced over to the carriage, inspecting the interior. “…She’s not here.”

Jada then relayed what information he’d already gleaned to the relieved duchess. “I don’t see the captain either. It looks like they escaped together.”

With a start, the duchess surveyed the area. “Where is he? Is Shuou not here?”

“Shuou? Oh, did he accompany them, too?”

“With his hair, we would have immediately noticed him among the dead. I should have known he was alive.”

“Solar Bright Faith must have rescued him along with the princess.”

The duchess shook her head slightly. “No, it’s likely the other way around.”

“Huh?”

Before Jada could ask his question, the duchess began firing off orders to her bodyguards. “Choose someone to report these details to Kazahina. Ask her for instructions on how to recover the bodies. The princess and her escorts must have escaped further inward. I’m sure of it. All remaining personnel will continue to pursue their whereabouts. Since we’ll need a guide, bring the old apothecary down here as well.”

The man she’d instructed used sign language to relay these orders to those above them.

“Have you made preparations to set up camp?” asked Jada.

In response to his question, the duchess gaped, looking up at him. “What are you saying…? Regardless of the results, we won’t have any time to sleep until we find the princess.”

“I should have expected as much from you,” Jada laughed. “If my father were in charge of this affair, he would still be sitting around at home, swirling around a glass of alcohol.”

“You would mock your father in front of me?” asked the duchess, her expression dubious. “Do you presume that cheap flattery will work on me?”

“Of course not. It’s often said, but I have no skill for wasting time with flattery. If the princess is safe, that would be magnificent. If not, you plan to kill me, don’t you?”

The duchess didn’t respond.

“I’ll interpret your silence as confirmation. Don’t worry. At this point, I’m not planning to run away.”

“Depending on the situation, our house will need to decide what path to take forward,” the duchess answered meekly. “Within the futures I’ve envisioned, that choice might exist, but I haven’t given up on an amicable solution. You might not believe this, but right now, your life means very little to me.”

“Do you think the princess is still alive?” asked Jada.

“Of the corpses above and below, very few show signs of predation. In other words, the Rabidaemons must have satiated their hunger. If so, they could have accomplished their goal and returned to the Abyss. If the princess and her escorts aren’t being chased by those monsters, it’s quite possible they survived. And in all likelihood, he… Shuou is with Her Highness.”

“Shuou? A person of your stature is depending upon a single commoner? Does he really have that much value? He hasn’t undergone a Bright’s training, and he can’t use Crynetic Energy.”

After pondering this for a moment, the duchess gave her answer. “The color of one’s stone and what one has strived to accomplish are entirely different things.”

Upon hearing this, the smile disappeared from Jada’s face. 

In response to his absentminded gaze, the duchess tilted her head. “Is something wrong?”

“No, not at all… That’s just an unusual way of thinking.” 

“Yes, Sunstones bestow both power and innate talent, but who decided that in this world, humans may only possess one strength? Other than the color of their stones, a great number of possibilities lay hidden within people. To deny those possibilities based solely on birth is the presumption of fools.”

The girl’s argument revealed her as an experienced, cunning elder. If not, she wouldn’t have been capable of brazenly appealing for equality. For nobles, the color of one’s stone was absolute, encompassing a variety of privileges, such as status and honor, wealth and influence. Of course, the ability to seize a better future also lay within one’s Miracrystal.

Jada held his stomach in a deliberately playful manner. “I’m feeling a little hungry.”

“I had my men make some small arrangements,” replied the duchess, wearing an expression of exasperation. “If you don’t mind eating portable rations while walking, I’ll have them prepare something for you.”

“That would be great.”

Jada donned a smile once more. He had spoken to dodge the issue, but when he considered their walk from here on out, eating would be a good idea. 

Original text: https://ncode.syosetu.com/n4006r/18/

Chapter 33: The End of Flight III

Inside true darkness, where not even starlight could reach, Shuou relied upon the faint luminescence of Moonstones to continue onward. As they traveled deeper into the cave, the smell of water choked him more and more. Despite being narrow, the path could accommodate two people walking side by side. Furthermore, a closer look at the flat road showed deliberate traces of leveling. In all likelihood, people had used this cave for some purpose. If so, the probability of this path leading to a different exit was quite high.

“Are you okay?” asked Shuou.

Concerned, he called out to Sa’salia, who was struggling to keep up with him from behind. Without offering a word of reply, the princess glared back at him.

“If there’s something you want to say…” Irritated by her reproachful gaze, Shuou raised his voice, causing her to shrink back. “…No, never mind.”

Shuou couldn’t remember the number of times Sa’salia had troubled him. When he spoke to her, she remained silent. And when he gave her instructions, he had to repeat himself several times before she responded. In short, she hadn’t shown the slightest inclination to cooperate with him, to break free from this situation. Overcoming the urge to leave her behind required a great deal of reason.

All the while, Canaria hadn’t left Shuou’s mind. Even on her deathbed, she had remained fixated on the princess’s survival. More importantly, if Sa’salia died, the people of Adulelia would suffer the most trouble. When he considered this, all of Shuou’s doubts cleared away. As a means of repaying his debt to his caretakers, this was an altogether strange situation. Still, as the sole person by the princess’s side during this dilemma, it had become his duty to bring her back safely.

Once again, Shuou looked forward and began walking. Reluctantly, Sa’salia followed behind him. After shattering Canaria’s Miracrystal, returning her to the heavens as Stardust, Shuou had gathered the fragments as best he could. Next, he’d wrapped the broken pieces in her remaining clothes, carrying them in hand. Along with her belt, the Bright’s longsword she had worn at her hip now hung from his shoulder.

The evidence of her life weighed down upon Shuou. Holding onto a cloak that still smelled of her blood, he suppressed his feelings of unease.

I wonder… Is this what the belly of an enormous insect or monster would look like?

As the unchanging scenery inspired this senseless thought, he heard a small scream from behind, followed by the thud of someone falling. Turning around, he found Sa’salia collapsed face first on the ground. Due to immense pain, she moaned, crying like a feeble puppy.

“Are you okay?” Shuou asked in a completely deadpan voice.

Sa’salia looked up at him with a resentful expression, her eyes brimming with tears. “Help me up this instant!”

Shuou could no longer endure her overbearing attitude and manner of speech. “Get up yourself. Even toddlers are capable of that much.”

In response, Sa’salia glared at him even harder. “And whose fault is this in the first place? I won’t tolerate any more disrespect from you!”

The princess’s hand shot forward. Suddenly unable to breathe, Shuou’s chest tightened with pain. It felt as if his windpipe were being squeezed from inside his throat. Air no longer flowing through his lungs, he let forth an agonized groan.

“Aaaaah!? Guhgah!”

Sparks scattered in Shuou’s vision. Writhing in pain, he held his throat, struggling to speak. It felt as though Sa’salia had gripped the very foundation of his life. Even so, the abnormal sense of discomfort exceeded the pain. Faster than he could think, his body endeavored to eliminate the source of this agony. While Sa’salia remained on her knees, Shuou kicked her upper body. Screaming, the princess tumbled onto the ground, and at the same time, air finally reached his lungs.

“Haa, haa…” Shuou gasped. “I’ve had enough of you!”

Following the impact of her fall, Sa’salia didn’t move. Straddling the princess, Shuou gripped her thin throat, raising his voice. “Listen closely! If you pull that shit again, I’ll cripple you from the neck down and leave you here!”

In all honesty, Shuou would rather have yelled, “I’ll kill you!” Even towards the queen of Aventurine, he hadn’t felt this level of disgust.

Sa’salia didn’t move. Without speaking, she stared at him, shaking ever so slightly. Shuou’s threat had been a serious one. Why would he help the person who had tried to strangle him? Perhaps that sentiment had finally reached the selfish princess. As she looked at him, fear now tinged her eyes.

Following a short break, the pair continued marching farther into the cave, the atmosphere more frigid than ever before. Despite being unpleasant, Shuou had to take the lead, as he carried the light. Just like before, Sa’salia followed him slowly from behind.

As they progressed, the smell of water intensified. The wind, which had blown from behind, began to spread out, filling a much wider space. Beyond the narrow passage, an entire lake came into view. Welling up here and there, the clear water – free of any waves – completely blocked their path. The light emitted from the Moonstone fragments in Shuou’s hand didn’t reach very far. Though the ores couldn’t illuminate the depths, he could make out a vague path continuing on the other side of the lake.

“We’ll have to cross over,” said Shuou.

Despite having muttered to himself, Sa’salia responded at once. “Cross… over?”

Her attitude had completely changed. Though she’d glared daggers at him earlier, she now refused to meet his eyes for even a moment. As a result of his previous actions, perhaps she wanted to avoid him now. Though the princess’s dramatic transformation made Shuou feel uncomfortable, he still preferred this over her trying to kill him.

“But…” Sa’salia trailed off.

“You can’t swim?” asked Shuou.

Giving a small nod, Sa’salia folded her hands, fidgeting her fingers. “I’ve never… gone swimming before.”

“Looks like I’m carrying you on my shoulders then.”

Despite seeming deep, the lake didn’t appear too long from one side to the other. Swimming to the far shore wouldn’t require too much time or energy. Even so, one problem remained.

“Alright,” said Shuou. “Let’s get undressed.”

“Um… what?”

As Sa’salia took in Shuou’s earnest expression, he glimpsed her unvarnished emotions for the first time. Her perfect, seemingly handcrafted face appeared almost childlike in its discomposure.

“I don’t want to get our clothes wet for no reason,” explained Shuou. “While I’m swimming, you can rest our clothes and possessions on top of your head.”

Giving no reply, Sa’salia merely nodded in befuddlement.

She’s very docile all of a sudden.

Despite having acted in self-defense, perhaps Shuou had gone too far by kicking and threatening the princess of a nation. He did feel a small amount of regret. Based on her sudden change of personality and subservience, the experience must have been terrifying for her.

Thinking these unproductive thoughts, Shuou turned his back on Sa’salia, undressing. He then folded his clothes and underwear, which were warm from body heat. Wind passing through the crevices of his body caused Shuou to shrink into himself. Yet for the moment, he needed to withstand the cold. Though he heard the sound of rustling cloth from behind, he didn’t turn towards the princess, minding his etiquette.

“Once you’re undressed, fold your clothes and place them on top of mine,” he said. “Then carry everything over here.”

Despite her silence, Shuou could sense the princess moving to follow his instructions. One step ahead of Sa’salia, he entered the lake. Accompanying the cold, the pain of countless needles stabbing into his feet assaulted Shuou. He had to bite down the unconscious urge to scream.

“A-Are you ready?” he asked.

“…Yes.”

“Then hop on my back. Try to keep our clothes and possessions as dry as possible.”

Even the clothes, which included a thick cloak, were hefty. After incorporating his own possessions and Canaria’s longsword, he couldn’t scoff at the load. Furthermore, swimming while carrying someone on his shoulders would be no easy feat. As he prepared for a woman’s weight to press down on him…

“Eee!”

Shuou let forth a pathetic scream. Rather than weight, he felt the warm, soft sensation of skin.

How… could I be so stupid?

Perhaps he had come to see Sa’salia as a personification of her role. As the princess of a country. As a selfish girl of abominable, noble blood. Even so, the feeling of soft, lukewarm skin emanating from his back informed Shuou of this: what you’re carrying is simply a woman. At the same time, a thumping heartbeat also emanated from behind. In this moment, her rapid pulse revealed exactly how Sa’salia felt about resting her body on Shuou’s back.

Considering everything he’d said, telling Sa’salia to put her clothes back on would be embarrassing.

If this gets out, I’ll be executed for disrespecting royalty.

Though Shuou pondered how to silence her on the matter, he brushed aside this base thought, calling out for them to go.

“The water is pretty cold,” he said. “But you’ll only have to endure it for a little while.”

Despite her lack of reply, Shuou could feel the princess nodding from behind. He tried his best not to think about the incredibly soft jiggling around his shoulders.

Placing the container of Moonstones in his mouth, Shuou dipped his body in the lake. Water frigid enough to kill a man reached his shoulders. To keep from drowning, he paddled across the water, arms and legs moving furiously. Sa’salia must have felt the same cold as him. Holding their possessions in her right hand, she wrapped her left hand around Shuou’s chest. Likewise, she wrapped her legs around his stomach. Doing her best to endure the freezing temperatures, she repeatedly gasped into his ear.

Don’t think. Don’t think about anything.

To escape from his indecent thoughts, Shuou continued paddling through the water with all his might.

“Hwah!”

Water splashed back onto Sa’salia’s face. Taken by surprise, her sickly-sweet voice tickled Shuou’s ear.

Someone, help me!

Immediately, Shuou’s instincts mounted a defense. To overcome this situation, he would focus his attention on something else.

What about Kumokari? He’ll work perfectly.

The image of his friend came to mind. Despite being a man, he wore thick makeup. Tight clothes enveloped his muscular body, bursting at the seams ever so slightly…

No, that’s not what I wanted!

Before he could finish envisioning this traumatic scene, Shuou’s defensive instincts kicked in again, saving him from this dangerous fantasy.

In the end, reaching the far shore required only as much time as a laborer scarfing down breakfast. Still, it felt much, much longer. Overcome with an indescribable sense of defeat, Shuou remained on all fours, unable to move for a short while. Once out of the lake, he managed to hold up his shivering body, using their dry clothes to wipe himself off. At the same time, Sa’salia couldn’t stop shaking, her lips purple. Noticing this, Shuou decided to rest here.

Determining the time proved difficult, as he could see nothing of the outside. Still, if he were to trust his own bodily senses, hours had passed since nightfall. While drying their wet clothes, the pair wore only their underwear. Using their warm cloaks as blankets, they lay down on the hard ground.

After extinguishing the Moonstones, a forlorn darkness overtook the area. Except for his eyesight, all of Shuou’s senses sharpened. The strong smell of water filled his nostrils. Similarly, water droplets fell from the ceiling, each striking the surface of the lake with a high-pitched sound.

Though Sa’salia lay a short distance from him, Shuou couldn’t even hear her sleeping. Despite having prepared himself for her numerous complaints, the princess remained eerily silent. Yes, he had wished for this situation, but the lack of any sound proved most uncomfortable.

His thoughts couldn’t have leaked out, but all the same, Shuou felt someone rustling around beside him.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked.

Following a short pause, Sa’salia responded faintly. “No.”

Rising, Shuou submerged the Moonstones in water once more. A vague, bluish white light illuminated their surroundings. Immediately, Sa’salia’s beautiful, defenseless body – clad in nothing but thin, white undergarments – leapt into view.

At once, Shuou averted his gaze. “Hey.”

“Oh,” Sa’salia answered somewhat lifelessly, covering her front with a thick cloak.

Afterwards, neither of them said anything, sitting around the light of Moonstones. They didn’t even look at each other. Despite having put off sleep for this, time continued to pass in vain.

Then, a low gurgling sound broke the silence.

“Huh? Huh!?”

Unable to understand what had occurred, the growl emanating from her stomach left Sa’salia bewildered. Waving her hands around her abdomen, she tried to gather up the escaped sound. 

“Looks like you’re hungry,” said Shuou.

“…How do you know?”

“That growling from your stomach is proof enough.”

“When you’re hungry, your stomach… makes a rumbling sound?”

Shuou scratched the back of his head. Considering Sa’salia’s position, he couldn’t blame her. In short, she’d never experienced true hunger.

“You’ve been taken care of very well, haven’t you?” he asked.

As the princess, she’d been given enough food to never experience a moment of hunger. Despite being enviable, Shuou also felt somewhat sorry for her. Rummaging through his possessions, he pulled out a salted nut. “This is the only decent thing I have to eat.”

A wrinkled nut lay atop his palm. Yesterday, Sa’salia had rejected this food, but now, she grasped it with timid fingers.

“Can you really eat this?” she asked.

“Sure, it’s not royal cuisine, but it’s not bad either.”

Sa’salia brought the salted nut to her mouth, using her teeth to lightly scrape the surface like a squirrel. Afterwards, she bit down on it. Upon recognizing the nut as food, she tossed the entire thing into her mouth, chewing it with a pleasant crunch.

“See, it’s edible, isn’t it?” asked Shuou.

“Yes, but… it’s not very good.”

Even so, Sa’salia wore a frantic expression. Once she had finished chewing, the princess turned her sad eyes towards Shuou. Thus, he gave her four more nuts, which – despite being salted – weren’t very big. She would need at least this many to feel even the bare minimum of satiety.

“We don’t have many of these left,” said Shuou. “Two or three days’ worth at the most. And that’s if you’re the only one to eat them.”

“Then what will you eat…?”

“Well…”

Her question reminded Shuou of his own hunger. With so much to think and worry about, his appetite had disappeared. However, since tossing a single, small nut into his mouth, he hadn’t eaten anything. 

Looking around nearby, he found a large stone lying on the ground. Curious, Sa’salia gazed at the stone as well. Placing his index finger to his lips, Shuou rolled it over, a spider appearing from underneath. About the size of a child’s fist, the spider was light brown and covered in fine hair. At once, Shuou grabbed the nasty little creature, eight legs wriggling out of his hand. Seeing this, Sa’salia screamed, her high-pitched voice echoing throughout the cave.

“It’s just a pest,” said Shuou. “Unlike those Rabidaemons, it doesn’t have the strength to harm people.”

Half-crazed, Sa’salia stared at the spider intently, cowering like an herbivore tossed before a carnivorous beast. As she flailed about on her backside, the princess’s cloak rolled up, revealing her slender legs and undergarments.

“Calm down,” said Shuou. “I didn’t pick this up to scare you.”

“Th-Th-Then why!?”

“I’m going to eat it.”

In response, the blood drained from Sa’salia’s face. ” You’re going to e-eat…!?”

Not wanting to explain, Shuou decided to give a performance, placing the live spider in his mouth and crunching down. The texture felt like biting into a hairy stone. Moreover, its body fluids – both acidic and terribly bitter – were so sticky, he feared his upper and lower teeth might cling together. The stench of rotting, fallen leaves filled his mouth.

After chewing a moderate amount and finishing his meal, Shuou let slip a few, unconscious words. “……That was terrible.”

Looking at him with tearful eyes, Sa’salia’s mouth flapped open and closed. “A-Are you… okay?”

Due to the spider’s disappearance, she’d regained enough composure to offer Shuou a few words of concern.

“No, I’m not,” he replied. “Some insects are edible, but a lot of spiders are poisonous. So I need to swallow this as well.”

Shuou withdrew a miniscule, black pill from a small bag in his luggage.

“What’s that?” asked Sa’salia.

“Cielo. It’s a medicine created from an Abyssal plant. If you chew it well and swallow, this pill will form a special membrane in your stomach, helping to absorb difficult to digest foods. Also, Cielo itself is similar to a poison. It dulls the workings of your inner body, preventing the circulation of bad things. To some extent, at least. Still…”

Sa’salia tilted her head. “Still?”

“It’s so damn bitter!”

Readying himself, Shuou bit into the Cielo. Overcome with bitterness strong enough to tear his face apart, tears filled his eyes. Ideally, he would melt the pill in hot water and then drink it. Yet under these circumstances, he could only chew the medicine thoroughly, swallowing it with his salvia little bits at a time.

He would only rely upon this murderously bitter medicine when driven into extreme situations. When short on food, he would use Cielo to forcibly digest poison mushrooms or strange insects. Still, rather than completely neutralizing dangerous substances, it merely helped them pass to the greatest possible extent. Frequent use placed a buildup of stress upon the body, and the pill had no efficacy against stronger poisons. In other words, he couldn’t place his complete faith in Cielo.

Crushing the pill with his teeth, Shuou swallowed the medicine. As tears cascaded down his face, he coughed violently.

“Haah…”

Looking at him, Sa’salia wore a pained, sympathetic expression. For some strange reason, her reaction humored Shuou. Pulling back the corner of his mouth with a finger, he showed the princess his teeth.

“They’re pitch black!” she cried out in a delighted voice.

Looking at each other, the pair burst out laughing. Upon seeing Sa’salia’s bright smile for the first time, all of Shuou’s worries seemed to vanish. Perhaps alleviating their hunger – if only slightly – had been a good idea. Until a little while ago, the air between them had been frigid. Now, a warmth reminiscent of freshly baked bread mingled in the atmosphere.

Naturally, conversation began to arise between them little by little.

“You hate bugs that much?” asked Shuou.

Sa’salia’s relaxed expression stiffened. “I do… When I was a child, my father received an assignment to act as an emissary in a foreign country. Despite it being such an important position, my mother and I ended up joining him. Once he finished a small amount of work, my father promised that the three of us would eat delicious food and see unusual sights together.”

Her words grew increasingly muddled. Hugging herself in a clinging fashion, she cast her gaze downward, unmoving.

“As we traveled through the Abyss in a carriage, two insect Rabidaemons suddenly appeared,” the princess continued. “My father and our Bright guards defeated one of them, but the other captured my mother. I was so scared, I couldn’t move. And right in front of me, that Rabidaemon… ate her. Seeing this, my father lost his composure, charging at the insect like a madman…”

“That sounds terribly painful,” said Shuou.

Just hearing the story saddened him. How deeply would seeing her parents eaten by monsters scar the mind of a young girl? He now understood why she had such an abnormal fear of bugs.

“More than anything, I want to forget this memory, but I can still remember the smell of the air and the color of the sky,” said Sa’salia. “When I’m in my right mind, my mother’s screams echo in my head over and over again. That’s why…”

“That’s why?” Shuou repeated.

At a loss for words, Sa’salia evasively cut the conversation short. “Who are you? You have an unusual appearance, and I don’t even know your name. Not only that, you treat me like the daughter of a servant, and earlier, you scolded me like my father once did.”

The princess’s scowl loosened.

I scolded her?

When Sa’salia had nearly strangled him with the power of her Miracrystal, Shuou had kicked the princess, straddling and shouting at her. Had she been referring to that incident? If so, she’d made a grave misunderstanding. At that time, Shuou had been threatening her with true murder in his heart.

“Before ending up here, we met each other a couple of times,” he said.

Sa’salia wore an expression of disbelief.

I should have guessed as much.

“Our first meeting took place during your welcome ceremony to Adulelia,” explained Shuou. “You struck me hard in the face with a scepter.”

Placing a hand over her mouth, Sa’salia’s eyes widened. “…Oh!”

“Our second meeting happened during the evening banquet. You sat next to me on the bench.”

“…I remember. Yes, I recall that now.”

“Good. Then I don’t have to pretend that this is our first meeting. But anyway, my name is Shuou.”

Placing her fingertips together, Sa’salia covered her mouth once more. “I see. Are you a citizen of Adulelia, Shuou?”

“No.”

“Then…?”

“I… was an orphan. Upon coming to awareness, I was scavenging for leftover food in the capital of Murakumo. Fortunately, someone adopted and raised me. Once I’d grown up, I returned to the same city and took on a state job for the money. Now the tide has brought me here.”

Shuou spat out these words in a self-deprecating manner.

Really, how did I end up here?

After striking him unreasonably, the princess had forgotten about Shuou not a moment later. Afterwards, many Brights had perished for no good reason. The sorrowful face of Canaria – who had died in agony, covered in wounds – rose to mind. These events had almost disappeared behind a fog of forgetfulness. Yet once again, anger towards Sa’salia for causing this situation began welling up within Shuou.

The princess leaned towards him. “You’re the same as me. Poor thing…”

Her hand – lovely as a white flower petal – reached towards his face.

“Don’t touch me!” shouted Shuou, smacking her hand away.

Surprised, Sa’salia clasped her hands over her chest.

“I don’t need your sympathy!” bellowed Shuou. “I was blessed! My adoptive guardian took me in, taught me how to live, and gave me the strength to survive in this world all by myself. Don’t compare me to someone who feels no gratitude towards the many people who protect her. Or to someone who meaninglessly drives those people to their deaths with a single word!”

“U-Um…”

Shuou didn’t wait for the flustered Sa’salia to finish speaking. Instead, he asked for the answers he most desired. “Why did you venture into the mountains at that time? What reason did you have to risk the lives of so many people?”

In the end, Sa’salia never gave him an answer. The short lived, joyful atmosphere had completely vanished. After being shouted at by a young commoner, the princess of a great country looked like she wanted to say something but closed her mouth. Finally, she hung her head, not daring to look up.

“I’m tired,” said Shuou. “I’m going to extinguish the light.”

When he drained the Moonstone container of water, its luminescence began to dim. Throwing himself onto the ground, Shuou turned his back towards Sa’salia, assuming a sleeping position. As darkness filled the cave once more, he felt a heavy thud from behind. The sweet scent of flowers tickled his nostrils.

“…What are you doing?” he asked.

Lying next to him, Sa’salia snuggled her body against his back. Honestly, this left Shuou rather perplexed.

“If there are other spiders like the one from earlier…” she trailed off.

To convey his annoyance, Shuou pushed against Sa’salia with his back. “I dragged that one out by force… Get away from me.”

“Please…” she said from behind.

Hearing her faint plea, continuing to double down seemed cruel. “Fine then.”

As soon as he’d spoken, Shuou felt the princess squeezing his back.

“Sometimes, when I was lonely, my father would spend the night with me,” she said. “His back was so warm. Just like yours. He would call me Sa’sa, and gently… pat my… head…”

When she cut off, Shuou could hear her breathing growing softer with sleep.

She’s already out?

After lambasting her, the princess had snuggled up to him immediately afterwards. Uneasiness churned within Shuou. Sa’salia’s lack of response suggested that his words hadn’t reached her ears. His anger and irritation came full circle, transforming into a sense of eeriness.

Shuou struggled to pin down this person called Sa’salia.

Original text: https://ncode.syosetu.com/n4006r/17/

Chapter 32: The End of Flight II

Something akin to a snake’s tongue brushed Sa’salia’s cheek. Despite being horrified, she soon recognized the sensation as mere wind, coming awake.

“Ow!”

Pain shot through her hips and back. In response to this entirely new discomfort, she cried out. Rather than a soft bed, she’d woken inside a bleak cave surrounded by craggy walls.

It wasn’t a dream.

The small amount of hope she’d clung to before falling asleep had proved meaningless. Outside, the morning sun shone across the land, its rays filtering through cracks in the ceiling, dimly illuminating the cave.

Her body covered in wounds, Canaria lay a short distance from the princess, the gray-haired man sitting beside her. Sa’salia didn’t understand him at all. Who was this man, and why was he with her? Why did he glare at her with such defiant eyes? Based on his hair color, he was a foreigner, but most of all, the large eyepatch covering his face seemed ominous.

I want to go home, to go home, HOME!

Until yesterday, the Flowers of Lucaine had occupied her mind. Now, she merely wanted to rest in a warm, safe place. Sa’salia would wake Canaria and relay these intentions. In reality, this would be an order, but if she – a member of Murakumo royalty – communicated her desires, few people could refuse her. However, like the constantly fault-finding Gwen, the man sitting next to Canaria had proven to be an exception within exceptions.   

Careful to not make a sound, Sa’salia approached the captain. Somewhere in her heart, she felt wary of the gray-haired man.

“Canaria?”

Sa’salia called out to the captain, who lay motionless on the ground. Yesterday, Canaria had seemed rather tired, not to mention her injuries. Still, after a good night’s sleep, she would have recovered. If the princess called out to her, Canaria would give her usual reply of, “Yes, Your Highness?” She believed that without question.

The captain gave no response. Even if Canaria fallen into a deep slumber, an indescribable sense of unease still overcame Sa’salia. Leaning forward, she took a peek at her face.

“Eeeeek!”

Screaming, the princess fell onto her backside. The captain’s skin had paled, her lips discolored. Worse, her half-lidded eyes didn’t move in the slightest.

“No… NO!”

Due to the commotion, the man sleeping beside Canaria lifted his head. “What’s wrong?” Looking at the fallen Sa’salia, he then noticed the object of her gaze, shooting to his feet. “Canaria!?”

Calling her name several times, the man shook the captain’s shoulders. Canaria didn’t move. Like a stone lying upon the earth, she showed no trace of life. As he called out to her, a sorrowful tone tinged the man’s voice. Unable to bear this sound, Sa’salia covered her ears.

***

Hiding Canaria’s face, Shuou sat next to her body, passing the time in vain. Why had this occurred? Could he have done something more? As unproductive thoughts swirled around his mind, he stared at the lengthening shadows cast by the setting sun.

This isn’t my fault.

Overwhelmed with grief and regret, Shuou had arrived at this answer. Covering her ears, Sa’salia had turned her back upon Canaria’s remains, rejecting reality. Seeing her filled him with disgust.

Uncaring of human conditions, nature remained ever the same. From outside, warm sunlight illuminated the dark cave. Likewise, the faint chirping of birds produced an idyllic atmosphere. Even so, a single sound drowned out that carefree mood, completely changing the ambiance.

“No, not them again!” cried the princess.

Despite having her ears covered, the sound must have reached Sa’salia as well. A loud buzzing vibrated the air. Once again, the scarlet hunters – having driven Shuou’s group into this situation – were flying overhead. The sound of Crimson Bee wings grew increasingly faint, silence filling the cave once more. Yet after a short while, the creatures returned, repeating this process several times.

Are they on patrol?

Like guards, these Rabidaemons were keeping a watchful eye over the area. An enormous question stirred within Shuou. Had the Crimson Bees come to the mountains in search of more than food? Their “patrol” suggested a hunt for Shuou’s group, who had survived their attack. If so, this gave rise to another mystery: their motive.

Why?

In the Abyss, Rabidaemons might focus on weakened targets for sustenance, but these creatures had very little connection to the Havens. More than a few times, Rabidaemons had slipped into human settlements, wreaking havoc. Still, Shuou had never heard of them persistently chasing after a specific person. To begin with, he doubted whether the creatures could even discriminate between individuals.

Regardless, the Crimson Bees’ actions clearly indicated a pursuit of Shuou’s group. Since the creatures had lost sight of them in this vicinity, he couldn’t doubt this conclusion. Thus, if he considered their situation while removing the word “impossible”, what were the Rabidaemons trying to accomplish?

His gaze locked onto Sa’salia’s trembling back. Including the deceased Canaria, three people had escaped into this cave. Of this trio, only one person’s very existence could be described as “special”. Being a member of the great Murakumo’s royal family, that individual was Princess Sa’salia.

Before the avalanche, the Crimson Bees had targeted her first rather than Shuou. Since he’d been carrying a wounded person on his back, appearing disadvantaged, something didn’t add up. When he considered this, the creatures’ motive for attacking and pursuing them fell into place. Reflecting upon what Amai had told him about the princess’s national value, Shuou’s disbelief towards the situation lessened. For some reason, these Rabidaemons were attempting to capture or kill Sa’salia. As of right now, Shuou had accepted a conclusion based on that hypothesis.

Either way, what he needed to do from here on out hadn’t changed in the slightest. But first, he needed to prepare himself for a few things. With the passage outside blocked, the cave resembled a prison, yet as a result, they’d gained a safe space. If possible, Shuou wanted to hide in here until help arrived or the Rabidaemons abandoned their pursuit. Unfortunately, he had only a small bag of salted nuts to keep them fed. Furthermore, he couldn’t expect Sa’salia to endure being stranded in the wilderness for too long.

Duchess Adulelia – ruler of this domain – was a capable person. Once she learned of this situation, she would take the necessary measures without delay. Still, how quickly she would locate the site of the Rabidaemon attack remained unknown.

Shuou could make a fire, using the smoke to inform someone of their position. However, he had almost no fuel, and doing so would inform the Crimson Bees of their position. As such, he could hardly call this a realistic plan. Rabidaemons armored with hard, outer shells could probably break through a meager wall of ice.

To overcome their current situation, he couldn’t sit around and wait. Escaping from here as soon as possible had become their top priority. Wind entering through the ceiling blew down a narrow road leading farther into the cave. If they continued down this path, they might find another exit from which to escape. Also, if they could leave from a completely different direction, they might be able to avoid the watchful eyes of the Crimson Bees.

Alright.

Lifting his head, Shuou stood. He then looked down upon the frigid corpse lying next to him. Reaching towards his waist, he withdrew his Needle, moving over to Canaria’s left hand and crouching. Hearing a rustling sound, Sa’salia looked at him, her gaze uneasy.

Since he’d decided to leave this place, he couldn’t abandon Canaria’s remains. Even if they escaped intact, Shuou had no familiarity with the land. He might not be able to return here for a second time. Most importantly, he couldn’t bear the thought of Canaria – once radiantly beautiful – withering away and disappearing in utter solitude.

Shuou placed the end of his Needle against her beautiful Miracrystal.

“What… do you think you’re doing?”

Shuou ignored Sa’salia’s question, responding through action. Taking aim, he raised the Needle, driving it into Canaria’s Miracrystal. Though the hard sound of striking stone rang out, the Needle’s end slipped upon the uneven surface of the Miracrystal, merely wounding the edge of her hand.

Watching these actions, Sa’salia screamed. Though the fear of being found crossed Shuou’s mind, he didn’t warn the princess. He couldn’t afford to do so, sweat drenching his forehead. Heart hammering, his presence of mind vanished into the far-off distance. At the same time, his grip trembled. The sensation of pierced flesh emanated from Canaria’s wounded hand and into his Needle.

Once again, Shuou lowered the Needle with a similar motion. Yet as before, he failed to drill the weapon into the point where it could shatter the Miracrystal. Repeating this failure many times over, the sound striking stone and Sa’salia’s crying reverberated throughout the cave.

“Stop!” she yelled. “I’m begging you… please stop!”

Her pleading voice grated on Shuou’s ears.

I’m sorry.

Each time he lowered the Needle, Shuou repeated those words in his head. This wasn’t his fault. Despite that thought, the words echoed in his mind, never quieting.

I’m sorry.

He apologized for being unable to save Canaria. For wounding her beautiful hand.

I’m… sorry.

Growing desperate, Shuou raised his weapon even higher. Finally, he shattered the Miracrystal, the Needle’s end piercing through the Life Core. A metallic sound rang out, Canaria’s body crumbling into sand. Her sparkling Stardust, which climbed towards the heavens, embodied freedom. It reminded Shuou of joyous cries raised from the oppressed upon the moment of their release.

Mind empty of thoughts, Shuou gazed upon the light of Canaria’s life. Ceasing her tantrum, Sa’salia fell silent as well, watching its departure alongside him.

Only Canaria’s sword, the clothes she had worn, and her shattered Miracrystal remained. Before the death of a friend, tremendous sadness gripped Shuou’s heart. Yet even until the very end, he never shed a single tear.

***

“A survivor has been found.” 

Hearing this report, Amue stood paralyzed for a short while. The worst of her imagined scenarios had come true. Kazahina’s words proved as much.

“…Who was found?” she asked.

Based on her adjutant’s expression, she wouldn’t like the answer.

“It was my little sister,” said Kazahina. “We found Yuuhina collapsed not far from the manor and took her into custody.”

“Your little sister…? So you questioned her about what happened, I assume?”

Kazahina nodded meekly. “Because she was so terrified and unable to hold a proper conversation, we gleaned only fragments of information.”

Resolving to accept whatever she heard, Amue closed her eyes, furrowing her brow. “Even fragments of information should suffice for now.”

“Per the princess’s orders, the royal guard left on a stroll late in the evening. Afterwards, multiple airborne Rabidaemons assaulted their party, decimating the royal―”

In the middle of the report, Amue’s eyes widened. “Did you say Rabidaemons…?”

“Yes. Due to their sudden attack, many of the Brights and the carriage transporting the princess fell down the cliff, it seems.”

If she’d been alone, Amue might have cradled her head and screamed. How many misfortunes needed to overlap for Rabidaemons to appear in the Havens when the princess left on a sudden outing?

“Under such extreme circumstances, how did Yuuhina make it back in one piece?” asked Amue.

Having difficulty speaking, Kazahina’s mouth twisted. “Well…”

“Even after all this, you still have bad news to report?”

“According to Yuuhina, someone saved her as she verged on falling off the cliff. Apparently, he was our guest. A young man with gray hair and a large eyepatch.”

Amue looked up with a start. “Are you serious? Shuou went with them?”

“As soon as I heard her story, I checked for myself, but he’s nowhere to be seen. Based on her testimony and Shuou’s characteristic features, it couldn’t have been anyone else.”

“And so?” asked Amue, urging Kazahina to continue the report.

“According to Yuuhina, he was flung into the air in her stead, but she lost consciousness without seeing him fall to the ground. When she woke, Yuuhina found herself alone amidst the gruesome corpses of the Brights. Afterwards, she lost consciousness again while running for her life, and―”

“That’s how you found her,” Amue finished.

Instead of speaking, Kazahina merely nodded.

“Have you located the site of the princess’s attack?” Amue asked with a modicum of hope.

“At the time of their outing, a thick fog covered the mountains, making the route difficult to determine. Even during Yuuhina’s escape, the mist still hadn’t cleared. As a result, she merely ran without knowing the way.”

“Did she not think to take note of a landmark?” Amue wanted to ask, feeling a momentary spike of anger. Still, Yuuhina wasn’t an official Bright. She hadn’t even experienced Gemstone Academy’s graduation exam. The situation had been terrifying enough for her to lose all presence of mind and decision making abilities. Considering that, Amue’s sympathy overpowered her anger.

The duchess glared at her adjutant. “Do you understand the situation we’ve found ourselves in?”

“I recognize this as a fight for Adulelia’s survival.”

“Indeed… You haven’t lost your wits. If we make even one mistake, Adulelia will become isolated in the east.”

To Murakumo, the princess was irreplaceable, as only she could inherit the throne and Celestine: the symbol of their nation. Under the pretense of Sa’salia studying away from home, Adulelia had taken custody of her. If she perished in the middle of her visit, Adulelia would – of course – bear the blame for her death.

Despite Adulelia being one of the most distinguished houses within Murakumo, the blame for not protecting the last remaining member of royalty would be heavy. Furthermore, Serpentia – whose relationship with Adulelia resembled cats and dogs – would take this opportunity to condemn them. “Those ice mutts had the princess assassinated to usurp the throne,” they would howl.

Gwen would make the final decision, his judgments often level-headed and rational to a hateful degree. In response to the unease nobles and citizens would feel after losing their nation’s support, Amue could easily imagine Gwen delivering a commensurate punishment upon her house.

The single confirmed survivor being a member of her family only made matters worse. If Yuuhina turned out to be the only living witness, her testimony would hold no weight. Convincing outsiders that the princess’s own words had brought about this incident would require a suitably high-ranked person giving their account.

“Including the princess, not everyone’s death has been confirmed,” said Amue. “First, we need to locate the site in which the attack occurred. That is imperative. If we knew why our idiotic princess entered the mountains late at night, we could form a more definite conjecture.” 

While Amue speculated, Kazahina spoke to her. “In that respect, I’ve received a curious report.”

“About the princess?”

“Yes. Do you remember what happened with Jada Serpentia?”

“Don’t treat me like I’m going senile. How could I forget? But don’t tell me that he’s involved in this affair.”

“I don’t know the full extent, but the “bell” attached to Jada reported that he approached the princess during the party and spoke to her. At first, she seemed uninterested, but when he handed something to her, she began acting strangely.”

Amue doubted a connection between these two incidents, but in any case, Serpentia was involved. From that alone, she had more than enough reason to be suspicious.

“Have Kunekaki check if Jada Serpentia is still within our territory,” said Amue. “If he is, restrain him at once and bring him here. If the young serpent resists, Kunekaki may deal with him as he sees fit.”

Kazahina nodded. “Right away, Your Excellency.”

***

Surprisingly, Jada had chosen to stay at a modest inn within Adulelia. Contrary to Amue’s expectations, he agreed to appear before her without any resistance.

“Hello, vile serpent,” said Amue. “You gave something to the princess during the banquet, I’ve heard.”

“Yes, I presented her with a flower,” Jada replied aloofly, Amue’s furious glare not fazing him. “That being said, it was completely wilted.”

“What of it?” his attitude seemed to say.

“What kind of flower did you give her?” asked Amue.

Upon hearing the question, Jada donned a glib smile. “Oh, just a Flower of Lucaine.”

In a flash, the blood in Amue’s head boiled over like lava. Raising Orthoclase, the monarch’s stone, she released its power in a fit of rage. In an instant, cold air enveloped the room, a frightened Kazahina shrinking back.

Sharp as spears, pillars of ice sprouted from the floor and ceiling, piercing the area around Jada. If he’d taken the slightest evasive action, the pillars would have punctured his body. Nevertheless, he didn’t even move an eyebrow, standing as tall and strong as a mountain.

Less than a heartbeat later, Jada had been confined within a distorted prison of ice. On Amue’s left hand, Orthoclase continued to radiate an intense, bluish white light.

“Did you kidnap the princess with that silver, forked tongue of yours?” asked Amue.

Unable to move his arms or bend his knees within this cramped space, Jada still spoke without a hint of emotion. “I merely told Her Highness that the flower could be obtained within Adulelia. But judging from your anger, something unexpected has befallen the princess.”

Even with his life in Amue’s hands, Jada still appeared unflappable. He simply wore a thin, unfaltering smile.

So this is the sort of person I’m dealing with.

As she began to regain composure, Amue’s thoughts surpassed anger, instead questioning the character of Jada Serpentia.

“That vile flower doesn’t grow in our territory,” said Amue. “And I don’t allow a single petal to pass through any of the gates under our control.”

“I’m not lying,” replied Jada. “I bought the flower as medicine from an apothecary doing business in the marketplace. At that time, he told me of a place in the mountains where it could be gathered.”

Amue hesitated. If this story were true, she might be able to determine the approximate location of the princess’s assault.

“Can you promise me that you’re telling the truth?” she asked.

“If words alone can convince you, I’ll repeat myself as many times as necessary,” answered Jada.

“Very well. If we can’t find that apothecary, I’ll freeze you into a sculpture to decorate the ice house.”

“As you wish.”

Amue had spoken in earnest, not as an empty threat. Even so, Jada showed not a single iota of panic. Upon hearing a description of the apothecary, the duchess ordered Kazahina to search for him. Not long ago, she’d been cradling her head, releasing her power in a fit of rage. Strangely, her shoulders now felt much lighter than before.

Shuou.

She repeated his name several times in her head. Since hearing that the young man – who’d earned her favor – was with the princess, she’d felt an unfounded sense of relief. Always, he’d made the impossible possible. As the head of Adulelia stood in the midst of this dilemma, his name slowly transformed into a small ray of hope.

Chapter 31: The End of Flight I

Shuou fell headlong down a precipice with no bottom in sight. In exchange for saving a girl hurtling through the air, he’d been flung into the depths of mist-covered darkness. All the while, he regretted his poor judgement. The girl he’d meant to save would be stranded within the middle of the Crimson Bees’ hunting grounds. Shuou wondered what sort of fate awaited―

Dispelling his regrets, he directed his full mental capacity onto survival. Even while falling from a great height, he didn’t struggle to find a means of escape within this rapidly passing scenery. His sharp eye caught sight of a thick root growing from the side of the precipice, hanging down in a polite bow.

Even if the scene played out slowly in his eye, his decision needed to be instantaneous. Yes, Shuou could perceive the world in slow motion, but he couldn’t perform superhuman movements. Having no other option, he extended his hand, grabbing hold of the root, which served as a literal lifeline.

“Guh!”

Unable to ease the momentum of his descent, his back and shoulder slammed into the wall. While stars exploded in his vision, he clung to the root with all his might. Despite hanging from the middle of a cliff, he had – for the time being – managed to escape death.

Still, he had no time to feel relieved. Without any footholds, he couldn’t use sheer arm strength to hang on forever. From the wall, he plucked off a handy stone that looked easily removable, throwing it downwards. In response, a faint thud rang out. Since it had only taken a moment for the sound to reach his ears, he must have been close to the ground.

Shuou needed to summon his courage here. It was dangerous to lower one’s feet onto an imperceptible location. While the situation on the ground and topography remained unknown, letting go without support could – in the worst case scenario – put his life in danger. Yet in the end, he had only one option.

Concentrating on lessening the impact as much as possible, Shuou let go of his lifeline. Faster than expected, he felt himself landing, fine sand crunching beneath his feet. A thin layer of snow blanketed his surroundings, large boulders scattered here and there. Based on the feeling and sound of his landing, sand covered the ground beneath the snow. If he’d alighted on one of the boulders, he would have injured his feet.

His shoulder stung. Yet before he could worry about himself, Shuou caught sight of a dreadful tragedy. A group of Brights and several horses lay on their sides, unmoving. As the overturned carriage was half destroyed, he could easily imagine what had become of its occupant. Congealed blood stuck to the scattered boulders, gray matter splattered across the area.

Dragging his foot, Shuou approached the fallen Brights, surveying them. Some of the guards had died with their eyes wide open. Others appeared to have been alive until just moments ago, perishing while crawling upon the ground. Among their number, some had bones jutting out of their skin. It was such a gruesome sight, Shuou prayed that their deaths had been instantaneous.

Amidst this mountain of corpses, Shuou spotted a familiar figure, rushing over to her. “Canaria…”

Once a beautiful and dignified Bright, Canaria lay in a wretched state. Bloody vomit spilled from her mouth, one arm twisted in a bizarre direction. At a glance, she appeared dead, but upon closer inspection, her body moved slightly from respiration. As a test, Shuou placed a gentle hand on the captain’s shoulder, a painful groan escaping her lips. Her half-lidded eyes peered at Shuou, but despite her vacant gaze, she seemed fully conscious. 

“Ugh, ah… guh!”

“You’re severely wounded,” said Shuou. “Don’t push yourself.”

The dull sound of flapping wings echoed from above. Though he looked up at once, fog obstructed his view, leaving him unable to judge the situation.

Are they planning to follow us down here?

Many people had fallen from the cliff, but those left above should have been ample prey for the Rabidaemons. Even so, the Crimson Bees might have planned to devour everyone in their avarice. The sound of flapping wings seemed to be increasing in volume, heading towards them.

“The Rabidaemons are coming,” said Shuou. “We need to run.”

Every second counted in this situation. Nevertheless, Canaria shook her head in an attempt to detain him. “Save… the… prin… cess…”

Doing her best to endure the pain, Canaria spoke with an anguished expression. Following her urgings, Shuou turned towards the carriage, which had broken in the fall.

“She’s―”

She’s beyond saving, Shuou wanted to say, but Canaria continued staring at him intently. Yielding, he raced over to verify the princess’s condition, peering into the flattened carriage through a crevice. The interior was so dark, he struggled to ascertain anything from the outside. Because the entire vehicle had been warped, the door no longer performed its original function. Regardless, he managed to pry it open, finding a completely unharmed Princess Sa’salia lying down on the inside.

“You’re kidding me…”

As buffer pillows covered the interior of her carriage, Sa’salia had not a scratch on her. Obviously, these were a means to protect the princess. Whoever had invented this design needed to be proud of their efforts.

Normally, Sa’salia’s porcelain features radiated lifelessness. While unconscious, she seemed even less alive. When Shuou patted her cheek, she gave no response. All the while, the sound of flapping wings from overhead grew louder, signaling their lack of time. Lifting Sa’salia’s upper body, Shuou shouted into her ear. At the same time, he grabbed the princess’s shoulders, giving her a firm shake.

“Ah…”

Opening her blue eyes, Sa’salia’s vacant gaze met Shuou’s. She then gaped, her expression transforming into one of surprise.

“Listen to me,” said Shuou, covering her mouth. “We need to escape from here. If you scream, things will only get worse, so stay quiet. Nod if you understand.”

Leaving out any unnecessary details, Shuou related information solely relevant to the present moment. Although she remained confused, Sa’salia answered with two small nods, still gazing at him. Pulling her hand, he led the princess outside. Seeing what lay before them, a quiet scream escaped from her tightened throat.

Letting go of her hand, Shuou returned to Canaria’s side, who was barely clinging to life. “The princess is safe,” he said. “For the time being, I’m going to carry you on my back and get us away from here. Don’t give up yet.”

Giving no reply, Canaria simply nodded, looking up at him. As Shuou carried the gravely injured captain on his back, a muffled groan escaped her lips each time she felt a tremor from his walking. Right behind them, Sa’salia followed with an unaccustomed gait.

A short walk from the cliff bottom, they climbed a gentle slope, heading for the forested area beyond. Fortunately, very little snow had accumulated within this sparse forest. Though walking wasn’t too difficult, Shuou’s foot still caught here and there. At the same time, moving while carrying someone – his back and shoulder injured – proved none too easy.

Running out of breath, Sa’salia came to a halt. “Hey… Hold on a second.”

“We can’t stop,” said Shuou. “I want to get as far away from there as possible.”

“But I… can’t walk anymore!”

Her words thoughtless, the princess dropped to her knees, crouching on the ground.

Spoiled brat.

Shuou’s blood began to boil. “Whose fault do you think this is?” he started to say but swallowed the words. You need to keep your cool, he cautioned himself.

“At any rate, we can’t let a wounded person rest here,” he said. “Hold on a little longer until we find a place to rest… Please, Your Highness.”

In response to Shuou’s almost supplicant words, Sa’salia made no attempt to hide her displeasure. Trying to intimidate him, she thinned her lips, furrowing her brow. Even so, she stood without a word, taking one step forward at a time. For the present, she appeared to have given her consent.

They needed a place in which to weather the elements. A small cave would be ideal, but finding one within completely unfamiliar territory would pose a challenge. While Shuou considered this, a familiar sound rang out, vibrating the air of the silent mountains. As he cupped a hand behind his ear, Sa’salia seemed to have noticed the sound as well. 

“Is that…?” she trailed off.

“The sound of Crimson Bee wings,” finished Shuou. “They’re getting closer… Why?”

Wherever they went, the sound of insect wings followed them. Since the creatures were clearly tracking them, Shuou couldn’t dispel his sense of unease. If the Crimson Bees’ goal had been to feed upon prey, they should have acquired more than enough sustenance. A group of Brights had remained atop the cliff, and others had perished upon falling to the bottom. What reason did these creatures have to seek out the lives of a mere three people who had escaped?

Despite knowing very little about the Crimson Bees’ ecology, their actions as wild creatures were incomprehensible. Shuou met the gaze of Sa’salia, who looked at him anxiously. Here stood the great nation of Murakumo’s last remaining member of royalty. Shuou couldn’t fathom the value of her existence.

No, that’s absurd.

He ridded himself of the outlandish idea. Rabidaemons – who knew nothing of the human world – wouldn’t relentlessly pursue someone on the basis of their noble birth.

“Let’s hurry,” said Shuou.

Despite his urgings, Sa’salia had frozen in place, refusing to move. Sight fixed on a single point, her mouth flapped open and closed. Likewise, her breathing grew increasingly shallow and more rapid. Following her gaze, Shuou found a large, decaying tree, countless insects wriggling out from the crevices of the crumbling trunk. Likely, the sound of Crimson Bees in flight had frightened them into a half-crazed state.

Bending backwards, Sa’salia fell on her buttocks, shrieking.

“Hey!” cried Shuou.

Though he tried to stop her, having Canaria on his back slowed him down. As a result, Sa’salia’s high-pitched scream spread throughout the area, reverberating across the mountains.

The faint sound of wings grew louder.

“We’ve been found,” said Shuou.

Having made that judgement, he grabbed the princess’s hand, forced her to stand up, and started running. However, the moment their location had been pinpointed, their human legs could never outpace Crimson Bees, which could soar through the air.

Two Rabidaemons descended from the sky, blocking their path. Teeth clicking, the creatures shook their heads back and forth, observing their prey. Unable to even scream, a pale-faced Sa’salia trembled from sheer terror. Standing before a snow-covered landscape, the crimson Rabidaemons menaced them, exuding overwhelming violence.

The two creatures began to move. While one attacked from the sky, the other used its multiple legs to kick off the ground, closing in on them at high speed. Both Rabidaemons targeted Sa’salia. When the Crimson Bee crawling upon the ground attacked the princess with its stinger, Shuou kicked her shoulder, forcing her out the way.

Sa’salia went sailing, falling to the ground. Grabbing her clothes, Shuou pulled the princess upright, yelling for her to run. Finally recognizing this as a life-or-death situation, she transformed into a different person, dashing away with all her might.

With Canaria on his back, Shuou also ran as fast as possible. He glanced skyward, observing the Crimson Bees waiting in the upper air. At that moment, his vision swayed, his feet seeming to float on nothingness. Together with Sa’salia, who ran in front of him, Shuou began tumbling down a steep slope. Disturbed by the weight of three people, the snow formed into an avalanche, sweeping them away with the ferocity of an inundated river.

***

Not long after waking and starting to prepare herself for the day, Amue received word of Princess Sa’salia’s disappearance. Immediately, Adulelia Manor entered a state of quiet but high alert.

“Why did no one tell me that the princess is a complete imbecile?”

Resisting the urge to hold her small head and curl into a ball, Amue let slip a meaningless complaint. Looking around her office, an entire group of people stared back at her, sitting with legs folded underneath them.

“I need to verify the situation again,” said Amue. “Give me your report.”

Other than her trusted vassals, led by Kunekaki, Kazahina was also present. When their eyes met, Kazahina delivered her report in a stiff voice.

“Late last night, Princess Sa’salia took her royal guards deep into the mountains, we’ve come to believe. Early this morning, when a worker went to the annex to discuss the day’s menu, they discovered the building empty. That’s how we came to understand our situation.”

“Do we know why the princess and her guards left?”

Kazahina shook her head. “No. We can only guess their approximate direction based on hoofprints and wheel tracks left in the slush of the courtyard.”

Despite the sheer number of people who had left the grounds, the owners of the manor had been too late in uncovering their departure.

“Damn it!” Amue cried out in frustration. “Kunekaki!” 

Kunekaki Oni – a hard-faced Bright – scooted forward on his knees. “Yes, Mistress!”

“Could they have crossed the checking station and returned to the capital?”

“There have been no reports of anyone passing through any gates – large or small – in our territory. That includes the northern, southern, and back gates.”

“Then we can assume that our great fool of a princess hasn’t left Adulelia. Our theory that she travelled into the mountains can’t be too far off the mark.”

Only a small number of house members and senior vassals who had sworn loyalty were present. Thus, not a single person rebuked Amue for referring to the princess as a “great fool”.

“The royal guard is accompanying the princess,” said one vassal. “If we wait, they will eventually return. It would not be wise to overreact.”

“We should form a large search party and scour the mountains,” suggested another, older vassal.

“No!” cried Amue, slamming a fist against her desk to reject their ideas.

This sent shivers through their shoulders.

“Whether or not they return isn’t of present concern,” she continued. “None of us knowing the princess’s current location is the real problem. We were entrusted with her care. If we scurry about searching for her while the lords and ladies of various territories are staying here, Adulelia’s reputation will hit rock bottom. Right now, we cannot allow anyone to hear of this.”

Shooting to her feet, Amue began firing off orders. “First, inform our guests of a change in plans. Due to the princess feeling unwell, we will instead invite them to a banquet hosted by our house. Humor them with our finest food and alcohol. Show them glimmers of favorable business negotiations.”

When she glared at her senior vassals, they nodded meekly.

“Kunekaki, strictly monitor everyone coming and going from the various gates,” ordered Amue. “Keep detailed records of all people and items, sending them to me as quickly as possible.”

The hard-faced man nodded firmly. “Yes, Mistress!”

“Kazahina,” said Amue.

Her trustworthy adjutant stood, saluting. “I am ready to receive orders, Your Excellency.”

“Place everyone who knows of this matter under light house arrest. Give each of them a room, and sever their contact with the others.”

“Understood.”

“Afterwards, gather as many Shadow Wolves familiar with the mountains as possible. Have them track the princess and her party. Needless to say, this needs to be done in secret.”

Upon receiving Kazahina’s confirmation, Amue urged her gathered vassals to carry out their instructions. While everyone bolted from the room, the duchess ordered her adjutant to remain.

“Who did we put in charge of staying with the princess last night?” she asked.

“…Yuuhina,” said Kazahina, struggling to answer.

Amue pressed a finger to her brow. “She doesn’t seem to have understood why we placed a member of our family so close to the princess.”

“My sincere apologies!”

Kazahina was Yuuhina’s elder sister. Thus, the former bowed her head, apologizing on behalf of her closest relative. Despite being young, Yuuhina wasn’t foolish. She had, of course, understood her role as a “bell” attached to Sa’salia. Perhaps she’d come to regard the princess of Murakumo as sacred. Such a mindset could have caused her to prioritize Sa’salia’s words over her familial duties.

Amue had complicated feelings on the matter. Yuuhina’s failure to do the obvious angered her. The princess – who manipulated her surroundings through selfish, absurd orders – grated on her as well. And finally, she worried for the safety of a young girl belonging to her house.

“Enough,” said Amue. “Do what is required of you without delay.”

Without looking up, Kazahina left the room.

* * *

Sunlight – only slightly warm – shone through a crack in the ceiling, illuminating Shuou’s face. As he shot upright, he felt snow on his hands. Looking around, he found himself within a gloomy cave. Water dripped one droplet at a time, the cold, stagnant air merging with humidity. If not for the dim light from above, he wouldn’t have been able to see within the pitch blackness.

Wide and empty, the ceiling reminded Shuou of a hollowed out chestnut shell. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, the details of his surroundings came into focus. He then noticed two women lying on the ground. While Sa’salia lay unconscious on the snow, Canaria had tumbled over on the craggy surface. Wasting no time, Shuou raced over to the captain, who had suffered grave injuries.

Her wounds had only continued to worsen. After being hurled about in a defenseless state, she had vomited even more blood. Likewise, crimson fluid – lukewarm to the touch – had soaked through her thick clothes. She looked so gruesome, Shuou hesitated to touch her. Nevertheless, he picked the captain up, moving her to as flat a surface as possible.

Sa’salia had merely fallen unconscious, sustaining only scrapes and cuts. Even so, no one present would celebrate her good fortune. While worrying over Canaria’s life-threatening injuries, Shuou endeavored to understand their present situation.

Not only had the avalanche swept them away, it had also blocked the entrance, plugging up the area. Due to the surrounding snow being partially melted, some amount of moisture had served to compact the wall, increasing its strength to that of steel. Rather than a wall of snow, it would be more appropriate to refer to the blockage as a heavy barrier of ice.

From his waist, Shuou retrieved his Needle. As its name suggested, the weapon was long, slender, and conical. Crafted from the tooth of a Rabidaemon, this Needle was a powerful instrument used for piercing. Stabbing the Needle into the wall, the point bit into the ice, producing a pleasant, crunching sound. Doing so would require a great deal of time and energy, but if Shuou wished, he could probably drill a hole to the outside.

A dull buzzing echoed from overhead. Reverberating throughout the cave, this sound vibrated the air. Perhaps due to fear, the previously unconscious Sa’salia shot upright, gaping in alarm. Shuou observed the movements of her mouth. First, her lips opened from the side, spreading out vertically. Upon catching a glimpse of her beautiful, white teeth, he extended a hand, covering her mouth.

“Mmmmmmm!”

Alongside her lukewarm breath, Sa’salia’s muffled cries escaped from between Shuou’s fingers. He held up his free index finger, telling her to be quiet. The princess’s blue eyes stared back at him with a mixture of fear and confusion. Finally, the sound of Crimson Bees flying in the upper air faded into the distance. Only the sound of dripping water remained within the cave.

“They left,” said Shuou, removing his hand from the princess’s mouth.

Furious, she shouted at him immediately afterwards, her shrill voice echoing throughout the cave. “How dare you!”

Shuou pointed upwards. “Be quiet. Those Rabidaemons might come back.”

In response, Sa’salia slapped her own hands over her mouth.

Please stay like that forever.

Even now, she glared at him accusingly, prompting Shuou to think those irreverent words. Being a princess, she seemed ignorant of the world, not understanding the danger of their situation in the slightest. In any case, Shuou couldn’t deal with her any longer. He left to check on Canaria, who still slept upon the ground. At that moment, Sa’salia expelled a small scream from behind him.

“Cana… ria?”

With each passing hour, the sun set lower. Right now, its light enveloped Canaria like a warm blanket. She had multiple broken bones, bearing deep cuts here and there. Her former life as a beautiful, radiant Bright seemed like a distant dream. Now, she appeared as hideous and pitiable as a single, trampled rose.

Ignoring Sa’salia, Shuou unbuttoned the captain’s shirt, examining what lay beneath. Where there should have been smooth, beautiful skin, he instead found scattered, purple blotches caused by internal bleeding. She had sustained serious wounds on the inside as well as the outside.

The word “battered” described her perfectly. A single glance revealed that her continued breathing was nothing short of a miracle. Though he couldn’t do much, Shuou retrieved an analgesic ointment from his belongings, smearing it over her wounds. He touched her skin with as much care and gentleness as possible. However, each time he traced his ointment coated fingers over her body, Canaria let forth an agonized groan, face contorting and breathing growing harsher.

When he tried spreading the ointment over her broken arm, Canaria’s thin, feeble hand grabbed Shuou’s wrist. “Where are…? What’s the situ…?”

Like wind passing through a partially opened window, she uttered indefinite, fragmented words.

“While fleeing from the Rabidaemons, we wound up in this cave by sheer chance,” said Shuou. “The entrance is blocked, and I can’t secure an escape route.”

From unease, or perhaps from pain, Canaria’s eyes welled with tears. “The prin… cess?”

Shuou glanced backwards.

Seeing the unharmed princess hugging her shoulders, observing them fearfully, tears spilled from Canaria’s eyes. “Thank… you. Thank you… Thank you.”

She whispered those words over and over again. Her intent stare and proclamations of gratitude inspired complex feelings within Shuou. Did a country’s royalty matter so much that a young, refined woman would forget to worry about her own life?

In response to Canaria’s guileless, heartfelt thanks, Shuou could only produce two words. “Of course.”

Once their saving grace, the sunlight now grew redder with time. Finally, night fell over the land. Per Canaria’s instructions, Shuou used the Moonstones and glass containers she’d been carrying to secure an insubstantial amount of light. Though the Moonstones had been small to begin with, the fall had shattered them into even finer pieces. As such, the ores wouldn’t last for long. Still, the the small, glass vials used for storing water were unharmed. Right now, he couldn’t have asked for better fortune.

Despite having been in a hurry, Shuou felt ashamed of himself for neglecting the same degree of preparation. Water leaked from the ceiling of the cave, forming pools all around them. Being able to secure drinking water without worrying about contamination or harm provided a great amount of relief. Even so, food had become a more pressing concern, as none of the three survivors had anything to eat on hand.

Amane had thrown Shuou into the Abyss under extreme circumstances countless times. Alone, he could formulate a means of escape, betting on his survival. However, burdened with an injured woman and a useless princess, he found himself unable to move.

A solution to this problem came from an unexpected source. As Shuou began to cover Canaria with the cloak he’d borrowed from Hario, he found a bag of salted nuts inside one of the pockets.

Thinking back on it, Shuou had often seen Hario crunching on a mouthful of these salted nuts. Likely, they were his favorite food. Of course, he’d merely forgotten to take them out, not foreseeing that Shuou and company would find themselves in this dilemma. Even so, Shuou felt only gratitude towards this good fortune.

Though he urged Canaria to eat first, her condition only continued to worsen. Right now, she lacked the strength to even swallow food. Despite seeing her close vassal severely wounded, Sa’salia merely trembled with fear, showing no concern for the captain. When Shuou held out some of the nuts to her atop the palm of his hand, the princess swept them away with all her might, repeatedly screaming something incomprehensible. Due to her sheltered upbringing, she might not have recognized salted nuts as food.

In response to Sa’salia’s selfish attitude, Shuou’s face stiffened in annoyance. Nevertheless, he remained in control of himself, eating the fallen nuts as his day’s meal.

Come nightfall, Shuou turned off the lights to preserve their Moonstones. As time passed, the actual moonlight spilling through crevices in the ceiling allowed him to make out vague shapes within the once pitch-black cave.

“Her… Her Highness,” croaked Canaria.

Writhing in pain, the royal guardswoman still showed concern for Sa’salia. Her condition had become visibly worse.

“She’s fine,” said Shuou. “I can hear her sleeping.”

Sa’salia had fallen asleep while hugging her knees, head resting atop them. Usually, a large number of people guarded the princess, treating her with great care. Despite this, her fatigue had overcome the discomfort of sitting on a solid, rocky surface.

The weather had grown warmer as of late, but winter still hadn’t come to an end. Though not superficial, Shuou’s group would be able to endure the nighttime chill, as they could avoid direct wind, and everyone wore their own cloaks.

“Sorry for dragging you into this…” said Canaria.

Heartbroken, Shuou stared back at her. Even now, she showed concern for others.

“…It’s not your fault,” he said.

Despite the darkness, Shuou could see the indistinct form of Canaria shaking her head. “I didn’t have the courage to advise my liege against her unreasonable demands. Because of that, I allowed many of my subordinates to die, endangering the life of the one I should have protected. I can’t imagine how much trouble this will cause Duchess Adulelia… The same could be said of House Faith, my family…”

Canaria’s voice grew increasingly distorted. Thanks to the darkness, Shuou didn’t have to see the tearful face of the once beautiful, dignified Bright. He hated himself for feeling relieved at that.

“So long as the princess… is safe…”

As if in prayer, Canaria muttered those words over and over again.

“Tomorrow, we’ll think of a way to escape from here,” said Shuou, trying to convince himself of this. “Go to sleep for now.”

He would have to escape this cave and descend the mountain while carrying a severely wounded Canaria and an uncooperative princess in tow.

It’s not going to be easy.

The urge to run away overcome Shuou. Who could blame him? If he wished to achieve the best possible outcome, the problems he needed to surmount were as immovable as mountains. Beside Canaria, who had fallen silent at some point, Shuou closed his eyes.

My body aches.

He missed the warm and fluffy, enveloping feeling of his bed at Adulelia Manor. He wished for books to satisfy his curiosity and fill his leisure time. And of course, he wished for an endless supply of high-quality Moonstones.

When did I become so weak?

Due to these brief days of luxury, Shuou’s mind and body had forgotten those harsh years of training within the Abyss. Remember them, he commanded himself. Right now, this situation required the person he had once been.

Original text: https://ncode.syosetu.com/n4006r/16/

Chapter 30: Crimson Rabidaemons III

The following evening, a great tumult enveloped Adulelia Manor. One after another, extravagant carriages arrived at the entrance. People of high rank  – accompanied by numerous attendants and bearing gifts – pushed their way into the manor. Consequently, the antechambers for both nobles and their servants had swelled to capacity. As the host of this banquet, Duchess Amue Adulelia raced about to manage the whole affair.

“These are shrimp harvested from the bottom of the lake, steamed with herbs, and served with a light sauce.”

When the head chef presented her a dish, Amue took a small piece in her fingers, sampling it. “Not bad. The clear aroma of the herbs covers up the smell of the shrimp. Still, the seasoning lacks appeal… Prepare two more sauces with characteristic flavors so that our guests may choose from among them.”

Even if she happened to be the duchess, Amue hardly ever gave such detailed commentary on the food being served. Nevertheless, tonight would be a rare and special occasion. This evening, great merchants and feudal lords from various territories had gathered to see the princess. Most of the ingredients Amue had prepared for tonight’s cuisine were produced within her domain. Of course, she meant to advertise the products of Adulelia. Using plentiful alcohols and fruits, rice and seafood, she would have her visitors test everything out.

The site of preparations had turned out far more chaotic than anticipated.  Scrambling, Amue had even called back Kazahina – whom she’d assigned as Shuou’s personal caretaker – to act as supervisor. At the same time, even the duchess herself ran from place to place, dispensing detailed instructions.

How pathetic.

A long time had passed since Amue had directed a large-scale banquet. She regretted that her instincts for handling such a great number of important guests had dulled. While moving to the next site, Kunekaki  – the duchess’s trusted retainer  – raced over to her, shouting.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

“Mistress, please lend me your ear.”

Amue allowed him to whisper into her ear. Hearing Kunekaki’s report, her eyes widened. “Serpentia’s little whelp, you say…?”

Descending into an underground room with a prison, Amue found young men of her family surrounding another man wearing a thin smile. It was Jada Serpentia. Hands bound tightly behind his back, the men had restrained Jada with his knees placed on the cold, hard ground.

“Filthy child of snakes,” spat Amue. “How dare you trespass into my home.”

Underneath her resentful glare, Jada’s expression remained composed. “So this is my welcome?” he asked, staring back at her. “I’d prepared myself for a few sarcastic comments upon my arrival, but suddenly being tied up and thrown into a prison cell has more than surpassed my expectations.”

“Silence!” shouted those around him.

The group surrounding Jada were young men of Adulelia, all of them skilled Brights. Despite this gathering of hotblooded men glaring down at him, not a single drop of sweat beaded Jada’s forehead. Coupled with his good looks, which seemed artificial, this evoked an even eerier atmosphere.

“Tonight is an important occasion in which Princess Sa’salia will publicly interact with her vassals for the first time,” said Amue. “If someone shows up without having requested to do so, it is only natural that we would respond out of concern for her safety.”

“We did put in a request,” Jada answered with composure.

“What?” asked Amue.

“A few days ago, my father – Duke Serpentia – sent a letter to Adulelia requesting that I attend as a representative of my family. There should also be documentation of my father receiving permission from Lord Gwen for a mere Bright such as myself to appear as the representative of our house.”

“Unbelievable.”

Amue wanted to accuse Jada of lying, yet based on his appearance, he hadn’t made any of this up on the spot. But of course, she hadn’t seen a letter from Duke Serpentia. To avoid such a mistake, she’d taken the time to write each and every reply herself.

Amue performed a nonchalant survey of everyone present, noticing one man in particular awkwardly averting his gaze. Even among the young men of her house, this one always wore his animosity towards Serpentia for all to see.

That explains it.

Although she couldn’t acquire confirmation here, this man had likely discarded or burned the letter upon recognizing the sender as Serpentia.

Jada seemed to taunt them with his composed bearing. “Based on that expression, you’ve recognized that there was some sort of mistake.”

In response, Kunekaki  – who stood beside Amue  – began shouting. “Hold your tongue, Jada Serpentia!”

“I’m honored that you know the name of a mere Bright such as myself.”

“Why do you look so proud? Yours is the name of a ruthless killer. Regardless of our wishes, bloodstained rumors of you have defiled our ears. Your mere existence demeans the Royal Army, and allowing you to set foot on this land harms our master’s repute. If you cannot wipe that stupid grin off your face, I’ll soon wring that skinny neck of yours!”

Kunekaki stepped forward to carry out what he’d just described.

“Wait,” said Amue, stopping him.

“…Yes, Mistress!”

Despite having the blood rush to his head, Kunekaki Oni was a loyal retainer. Bowing his head, he took a step back.

“Solar General Adulelia, it seems that only you and I are capable of making rational decisions,” said Jada. “If you release me here and now, I promise in the name of Duke Serpentia  – bearer of Antigorite  – to forget this unfortunate misunderstanding.”

In response to Jada’s feigned politeness, everyone’s eyes darkened, but Amue had already begun to regain her composure. Even if this young man belonged to a house with which she shared a storied history, there existed a line she couldn’t cross. Additionally, the lack of tact belonged to Adulelia in this matter. Further disputes would be meaningless, and even one misstep could result in a great disadvantage to her house. She needed to bear that in mind.

“Very well,” said Amue. “However, I won’t apologize. Due to the importance of Her Highness’s visitation, my family reacted a little too sensitively. Even so, I ask you to understand that this was a necessary measure to protect the princess.”

“Under these circumstances, I wouldn’t do something so uncouth as to demand an apology.”

Amue returned a nod, signaling with her eyes to the men restraining Jada. Despite seeming reluctant, they couldn’t disobey an order from the duchess. Releasing their holds on the prisoner, they moved away. Jada stood gracefully, his hands still tied behind his back. Though Amue ordered her men to free him, Jada brought his arms  – supposedly bound  – forward, tearing off the ropes.

“Cretin,” said Kunekaki, his tone grave. “You already undid your bindings?” 

Jada’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Resisting would have been easy enough. Let’s leave it at that. My duty is to have Princess Sa’salia remember the name of Serpentia. If you would interpret my deliberate non-resistance as an act of good faith, that would benefit the both of us, I believe.”

Led by an attendant acting as a guide, Jada left the room. Everyone remaining stared at his parting gift: the torn rope. Into the rope, which wasn’t very thick, Jada had inserted sharp incisions of perfect length that would cut with the lightest force. With hands bound behind their back and unable to see, the average person wouldn’t have been able to concentrate on manipulating Crynetic Energy.

So this is the strength of he who bears the wind serpent’s darkness?

His nerve, rational decision making, and abilities as a Bright were all first-rate. If Jada Serpentia had been born to a different house, Amue would have paid him a compliment. Unfortunately, he belonged to Adulelia’s most despised family.

“Kunekaki,” said Amue.

“Yes, I understand.”

Even if Jada’s true intention was to curry favor with the princess, Amue still needed to attach a so-called “bell” to such a dangerous person.

***

In comparison to Shuou’s original vision of an aristocratic, evening party, the venue that Adulelia had prepared for their guests felt somewhat cramped. Though the duchess could have secured a larger area, the purpose of this banquet was to socialize. Thus, the cramped space crowded with a moderate amount of people proved advantageous, helping to fulfill this purpose.

Having arrived a little while ago, the upper class guests were ushered into the venue, filling the entire area with activity and the strong scent of perfume. As of right now, Shuou stood in this location all by himself. Even if he searched the world over, he wouldn’t have been able to find a room less suited to him. Feeling utterly out of place, that thought occurred to him.

People stared at him from all around, but unlike commoners, these guests did try to hide their glances. Ostensibly, at least. Perhaps the pride of those situated at the top of society could account for this.

Despite having no real objective, Shuou had attended this banquet for one reason: to observe. When Duchess Adulelia had invited him to participate as a guest, he’d immediately refused. But upon hearing how rare of an experience this evening would provide, he’d reconsidered. As the duchess had promised, being surrounded by people in dazzling garments  – their Miracrystals each a different shade – proved extraordinary indeed. Yet in no time at all, he’d come to regret his decision.

Unexpectedly, a savior appeared in the form of Princess Sa’salia, silver-clad Brights accompanying her. The musicians ceased their harmonious performance, a more dignified, oppressive number filling the hall in its stead. As the princess walked towards the back of the room, the gazes of everyone crowding the venue turned towards her.

Princess Sa’salia took her seat upon a simple throne in the innermost center of the room. Due to the arrival of this evening’s main event, the focus on Shuou softened, for which he felt deeply relieved. Like a well-trained army, people formed a column, greeting the princess from the head of the line on backwards.

Shuou couldn’t miss this opportunity. Since everyone had disappeared from the dining tables, he chose a few dishes that would satiate his hunger. As he filled his mouth with the first well-marbled meat that he’d laid eyes upon, a man called out to him from nearby.

“Enjoying the food?”

Still chewing, Shuou looked over at the speaker. By the time he swallowed, he’d managed to recall this person from memory. “You’re Jada, if I’m not mistaken…”

Jada  – who could have been mistaken for a woman of unparalleled beauty  – wore an unfaltering smile, looking at Shuou. “Yes, of Serpentia. How surprising that you know my name.” 

“Did you need something?”

The handsome Bright’s aura didn’t suggest that he’d called out to Shuou to make pleasantries. Having heard nothing good about this man from Amue or Kazahina only reinforced his assumption. 

Perhaps because Shuou had failed to hide his wariness, Jada donned an unnaturally thin smile. “You seem rather cautious. Don’t worry: I won’t bite. I only came over here to observe you from up close. What kind of person is the commoner who spoke to Lord Gwen so sharply, I wonder?”

Only now did Shuou remember that Jada had been present during the council meeting. Without thinking, he spoke to the handsome Bright in a prickly manner. “Well then, you’ve accomplished your goal. If you don’t need anything else, please leave.”

“I’ve approached you amicably,” said Jada. “You could afford to be a little more friendly. I could assume the attitude of a senior officer.”

Setting down his plate, Shuou glared at Jada head on. “Do whatever you want, but I have no intention of changing my attitude either.”

“Do you think being surrounded by this family of ice mutts has turned you into a nobleman?” Jada snorted derisively. “You should rid yourself of those naïve delusions. Duchess Adulelia is fond of talented people, promoting a great number of them. Elevating lower class citizens might sound magnanimous, but in reality, she is merely a merchant of poor taste, buying up people out of selfish desire. You are nothing more than a commodity chosen to satisfy her want of possessions.”

Hearing Jada’s argument, Shuou took a step forward, fury overtaking him. “I am indebted to Duchess Adulelia. If you mean to insult my benefactor, I have more than enough reason to bring you down right here and now.”

“Despite knowing the name of Serpentia, you still utter words of violence? Or do you seriously think you can defeat me?”

Without answering, Shuou merely leveled a piercing gaze at Jada, not moving in the slightest. Sensing the threatening atmosphere, an increasing number of people – who had been interested in the princess – directed their gazes towards Shuou. Once again subjected to their curious glances, he regained a bit of composure. He was under house arrest. If he caused a disturbance while in Amue’s care, he would bring trouble upon the duchess and her house. Averting his gaze from Jada, Shuou took a step forward in an attempt to leave.

“After talking such a big game, you’re just going to run away?”

When Jada’s incendiary words reached his ears, Shuou hesitated. Yet in the end, he managed to suppress his emotions. As he tried to pass Jada, the handsome Bright stuck out his foot, catching Shuou and sending him sprawling. His nose – already wounded by the princess – slammed against the ground. Groaning in pain, he stood up, derisive laughter echoing from all around him.

Doing his best to feign composure, Shuou hurried over to the door leading to the courtyard, never turning around. 

What’s so funny?

***

One after another, people appeared before Princess Sa’salia of Murakumo, trying to curry favor with her. Reminiscent of fading candlelight, she gazed at each of them with empty eyes. Along with their house names, people presented her with lists describing their tributary gifts. Of course, she checked none of their contents, nor did she care to. Beside her, Canaria whispered the names and personal histories of this endless stream of riffraff. Regardless, not a single word remained in Sa’salia’s memory.

This is so irritating.

She forced down the urge to scream, feeling as if dozens of flies were buzzing around inside her head. On a whim, she would threaten others, venting her anger upon those around her. Yet if she acted like her everyday self here, her position would worsen. Conversely, if she stayed quiet for a time, that spiteful duchess – who looked like a mere child – might change her mind, allowing the delivery of Sa’salia flowers. Keeping that calculation in mind, the princess barely managed to maintain her sanity. 

However…

“You might find this amusing, Princess. The prey I brought down the other day was of greater size than the wingspan of two large adults standing side by side.”

The middle-aged man’s lengthy boasting nearly caused her pent up displeasure to explode.

This is so irritating!

Sa’salia shot up from her seat, interrupting the man’s story. Panicked, Canaria called out to her. “Your Highness, the Count is still in the middle of his story.”

Casting a sideways glance at the flustered man, Sa’salia turned her back on him. “Let me rest.”

With many eyes upon her, Sa’salia began walking in search of refuge. While looking around for a good spot, the door leading to the courtyard entered her field of vision. Upon opening the door, a bracing wind swept past her. Even while wearing a thick coat, it was cold outside. Yet to Sa’salia, whose body flushed with irritation, the lower temperature felt pleasant.

Even though she hadn’t requested their presence, the royal guard followed after her, Canaria at their lead.

“Stop following me!” shouted Sa’salia, her voice filled with displeasure. “I’ve gone along with this absurd event. Leave me alone for a little while!”

Despite wearing a perplexed expression, Canaria ordered the royal guard to stop. Even if Sa’salia made this request, her guards would never leave her alone. Still, if they knew of her annoyance, they would stay out of her field of vision.

Having finally attained a false solitude, Sa’salia looked for a place where she could further settle down. After a short walk, she found a bench set out for resting. She couldn’t see well in the darkness, but as she approached the bench, a previous arrival came into view. The man had a most suspicious appearance. He wore a large eyepatch over his face, his hair a dull gray.

Standing in front of the bench, Sa’salia crossed her arms. “Move.”

The man, who had been staring into the distance, turned his gaze towards her. “Huh…?”

His eye was so sharp, Sa’salia momentarily flinched, but her anger soon won out. “I told you to move!”

“Not a chance,” the man spat, his brow furrowing.

“Do you know who I―”

“I know who you are,” the man interrupted in a strong tone. “But I sat down here first.”

His words stunned Sa’salia. Despite recognizing her as the princess of this nation and the sole successor to the throne, he still took this attitude. Once again, the man of strange appearance averted his gaze into the distance. Even if she continued speaking, he probably wouldn’t stand, no matter her reason. If this were Crystal Palace within the royal capital, she would use Crynetic Energy to torment him until he began writhing in pain. Unfortunately, she couldn’t offend the duchess right now.

Still, she couldn’t see any other notable places to rest, and leaving right now would feel like admitting defeat to this impudent man. That would vex her far too much. Making up her mind, Sa’salia sat down on the empty side of the bench.

Perhaps due to the space between them, the man showed no reaction, despite her sitting down next to him. Moonlight shone upon the hazy world, only the sound of wind still audible. Pretending to look ahead, Sa’salia sneaked sideways glances at the man, her left foot jerking up and down.

“Are you a foreigner?” she asked.

Nothing close at hand had inspired Sa’salia’s curiosity for a long time. However, this man – who neither respected nor feared her – piqued her interest.

He looked at her with an exasperated expression. “You don’t remember?”

“Remember what…?” asked Sa’salia, tilting her head.

“So it’s not just in Aventurine,” he said, exhaling a tremendous sigh. “All members of royalty are strange.”

His mention of Aventurine caught her attention. What had he meant?

I should ask him about it.

Driven by curiosity, Sa’salia began to open her mouth. Yet before she could speak, the man shot to his feet, walking off somewhere. Perhaps his body had served as a wall, as the sudden, frigid wind blowing from the side caused her to shiver.

Underneath the moonlight, only the sound of wind enfolded this world. Though nothing had changed from earlier, Sa’salia’s sudden and unexpected solitude caused a slight wilting of her heart. She needed to head back soon. As this thought occurred to her, a man wearing a Bright’s uniform appeared in front of her.

Dropping to his knees, the man bowed his head. “May I have a brief word with you, Your Highness?”

Turning her head to the left, Sa’salia found Canaria and the other royal guards still observing her from nearby. The princess glared at the Bright, her eyes telling him not to approach. Standing, she then looked down on him. 

“I’ll listen to your worthless introduction later, along with the others.” Following her declaration, the princess started to leave, but upon seeing what the Bright proffered, she sat down once again. “You’ve brought me…”

“A dried Flower of Lucaine,” he finished. “I obtained it from an apothecary selling it covertly within the city. Hopefully, its medicinal properties will serve as a meager gift.”

“I see…”

Sa’salia extended her hand, drawn to the Flower of Lucaine in the Bright’s palm. However, he made a gentle fist, hiding the flower.

“What are you―”

Before Sa’salia could finish, the man raised his head. “My name is Jada Serpentia.”

“Serpentia…”

Hearing a name she knew all too well, Sa’salia looked at the Bight’s face for the first time. One glance of his beautiful features left a striking impression. Even so, the flower in his hand intrigued her to a far greater degree.

“I’ll remember your name,” she said. “Quickly, show me the flower.”

The man proffered the flower in his hand. “Here you are. I went through a great deal of trouble to obtain this for you, Your Highness.”

Examining his offering, the already wilted flower would probably not withstand her desired method of use. And anyway, such a small quantity would never satisfy her. One needed two handfuls to attain the flower’s hallucinogenic effect. Sa’salia felt disheartened, her hopes dashed. Then the Bright – who’d introduced himself as Jada – spoke to her in a whisper.

“According to the man with whom I did business, the Flower of Lucaine grows within Adulelia.”

Sa’salia bit at this information, raising her voice. “Is that true!? Tell me… Tell me the details!”

The handsome Bright’s face twisted into something bitter. Sa’salia leaned forward, listening to the words that rolled trippingly from his tongue.

***

Shuou hadn’t been dreaming. Despite having fallen into deep sleep, he now regained consciousness, as if answering a call. A slight nostalgia colored this sensation. It reminded him of waiting for daybreak all alone in the Abyssal Forest, the ashen trees swarming with Rabidaemons. During those times, a primitive intuition and insight had allowed him to feel the approach of dangerous creatures on his skin. Since he no longer had any reason to fear Rabidaemons, this keen sense of danger had become a distant memory. Even so, it had ordered him to wake up.

Thus, he sat up in bed. As cold as an ice house, his throat felt parched within this dry atmosphere. Peeking out of his room, he sensed a different air than usual. Though he didn’t quite understand the nature of that difference, it brought to mind the writhing of countless insects beneath a large stone.

He stopped himself from entering the corridor in his pajamas. Changing into his regular clothes, Shuou donned a cloak, exiting the room. When he passed the entrance, his vague intuition transformed into certainty. Following the faint sounds of commotion, he stepped into the courtyard, finding silver-clad Brights racing to prepare their horses.

At this hour?

As Shuou observed them absentmindedly, a single Bright walked over to him. Since she wore a thick cloak, discerning her identity took a moment. Yet upon seeing her blonde hair mixed with red, he recognized her as Canaria.

“Did we wake you?” the captain asked, her breath coming out in white plumes. “We were trying to be careful about the noise.”

“No, it was just a coincidence. I left my room for a drink of water.”

Naturally, Shuou waited for Canaria’s next words, but she never began to speak. Rather, she looked perplexed to have encountered him here.

Disliking silence, Shuou asked the most obvious question. “What are you doing at this hour?”

“Well…”

Hesitant, Canaria gave an inarticulate answer, casting her gaze backwards. Following her line of sight, Shuou discovered a well-constructed carriage standing alone in the darkness. Seeing four mounted Brights surrounding the vehicle as guards, he could guess the passenger’s identity.

“Are you heading back to the capital?” he asked.

“If only,” Canaria replied with a glum expression. “Per Her Highness’s orders, we’re heading deep into the mountains.”

Shuou gaped at her vague explanation. “Deep into the mountains? How far exactly?”

“I’m wondering about that myself. We were simply ordered to go.”

“Can’t you refuse?”

“Not this time. The princess is a very self-centered person. Sometimes, her orders are mere whims, but on other occasions, she makes assertions with a strong goal in mind. We’re dealing with the latter this time. No matter how forceful of a position I take, she won’t give up the idea of going.”

How reckless.

Observing Princess Sa’salia’s excessively selfish behavior reminded Shuou of a certain queen. He felt irritation resembling nausea in his gut. The brandishing of one’s inherent power to manipulate those around them disgusted Shuou.

“You should stop her,” he said, voice filled with anger and irritation. “Daybreak is still a ways away, and lately, the fog around early morning has been thickening. It’s not the Abyss, but mountain roads are still dangerous when dark. Your field of vision will be dreadful.”

Instead of criticizing Shuou for his disrespectful tone, Canaria showed appreciation. “Thank you. You’re right about everything, but this isn’t something I can contest. As vassals, we can point out mistakes, but we cannot refuse our lord or lady’s final decision. Protecting Her Highness is my duty. Since she’s going, I must follow her, no matter what.”

“Did you tell the duchess that you’re going out at this time?”

“I didn’t. Her Highness instructed me not to, as the duchess would be less than pleased. Even so, I explained the situation to a young Bright Candidate of Adulelia who’s been assisting us since yesterday, and she agreed to accompany our party. Since I just sent back members of the guard to the capital for replacement, we’re short on numbers. Her cooperation is a great help.”

Among the Brights, Shuou noticed a familiar, young girl preparing the horses. He recalled Kazahina introducing this girl as her younger sister. Unlike the other refined Brights, she still looked childish. Letting her go alone made him feel uneasy.

“I’ll go with you,” he said.

In response to his proposal, Canaria donned an expression of both surprise and relief. “I’m not in a position to turn you down. Do you mind being taken advantage of?”

“I’m wide awake, and not going will eat at me.”

Shuou didn’t care about the princess. Though he did sympathize with Canaria, she seemed accustomed to these sudden turns of events. However, the safety of this young Adulelia girl did concern him. If a relative of his benefactor wound up exposed to danger because of the princess’s selfishness, he would regret having overlooked the present situation.

“Once Her Highness enjoys the fresh air, she’ll be satisfied, and we’ll be able to return at first light,” said Canaria. “I want to leave as soon as possible, so please make haste with your preparations.”

Expressing his assent, Shuou raced back to his room. Just in case, he placed his on-hand equipment in a bag and headed out once more. While running, he tried to make as little noise as possible, hurrying back to Canaria. Yet as he headed towards the entrance, Hario – who was loitering around the kitchens – called for him to stop.

“What are you up to at this hour?”

Dry snacks protruding from his mouth, he held what appeared to be a liquor bottle.

“I’m going to help escort the princess on an outing,” explained Shuou.

“So members of royalty go out for walks in this pitch blackness, huh? They’re an odd bunch.”

“You’re not wrong about that.”

Under normal circumstances, Hario’s comment would have been rude, but Shuou agreed wholeheartedly.

“Well, I need to be off,” said Shuou.

Bidding his friend farewell, he started to leave, but Hario called for him to stop once more. “Wait. It’s cold as shit outside right now. Since I had to carry in supplies all last night, I would know. Here, take this.”

Shuou caught the leather cloak thrown to him. Since Hario had just been wearing it, a uniquely sour smell and the scent of alcohol prickled his nostrils.

“You’re sure?” asked Shuou.

“Yeah, it’s yours for now. It’s cheap, and the fabric is thin, but it should serve well enough to wear under that fine cloak of yours.”

As instructed, Shuou donned Hario’s thin cloak underneath his own. If he ignored the slight stench, the increased warmth provided some reassurance. Thanking his senior Squire for showing concern, Shuou promised to return soon, heading outside.

Amidst the fog, which grew thicker by the hour, Shuou accompanied Princess Sa’salia and the royal guards protecting her. Having borrowed a spare horse, Shuou relied upon his newfound equestrian skills to drive the creature. Following the princess’s directions, the party advanced through a mountain road far from the manor. The carriage barely fit through this narrow pass. Furthermore, since the road hadn’t been paved, they had to ride down this treacherous path while avoiding the numerous, overgrown branches.

Silence lay over the entire area.

This is eerie.

It was so quiet, even Shuou – who was accustomed to the nighttime world – noticed something uncanny. Normally, the activity of nocturnal birds or animals, regardless of size, would reach his ears. Despite this, he sensed not the slightest pulse of life from his surroundings.

Throughout the journey, they came upon several forks in the road. Following the princess’s groundless directions, they traveled down these various pathways at random. Worsened by the thickening fog, Shuou grew increasingly uneasy about his malfunctioning sense of direction.

All at once, they came upon an open space. The line of trees finally broke, yet due to the abundant mist, they couldn’t see the ground of this wide, level area. Obstructed by the haze, even the party’s Moonstone lights proved insufficient.

What am I feeling in the air?

Inside this prison of white smoke, a vague uneasiness seized Shuou’s heart. He rode over to Canaria, who was taking orders from Sa’salia through the carriage.

“Canaria,” he said. “Let’s head back. Something feels off about―”

Though the captain looked at him with surprise, a hysterical voice echoed from inside the carriage. “No! We haven’t found them yet!”

“Haven’t found what?” Shuou opened his mouth to ask, but at that moment, something happened. A dull vibration shook the air, causing a chill to run down his spine. The horses quickly noticed this abnormality as well. Terrified, the creatures jerked their necks around, the Brights’ attempts to pacify them unsuccessful.

Before Shuou could plan his next action, the source of the commotion arrived.

Six wings able to soar through the air. Sanguine eyes that shone with dark luster. Solid mandibles that could bite through stone. Six legs stretching horribly from their bodies, each the size of a large man. Crimson Rabidaemons dyed in red from the tips of their antennae to the backs of their tails.

Crimson bees!?

Shuou had learned how to survive within the Abyss and hunt Rabidaemons from Amane: his adoptive guardian and master. Among those Rabidaemons, there were a few that she hadn’t allowed him to engage in battle. 

“If you ever see one of these, run away,” Amane had instructed.

The Crimson Bee happened to be one of those. As peerless warriors, they could soar through the heavens and attack their prey in swarms. Shuou knew very little about their ecology. Before, he had only glimpsed them in flight from afar. Now, he could see three of them up close. As if to show off their crimson bodies, the creatures – beating their wings  – floated up from the mist, flashing towards the guards. Dread raced through Shuou, overriding the question of why these Rabidaemons had appeared in the mountains.

“Run!” he cried.

The moment he shouted, the Crimson Bees alighted on the ground with an astonishing lack of sound. In the midst of this confusion, one of the creatures used its foreleg to pierce a petrified Bright at the vanguard. Since the leg had stabbed through his shoulder, he’d likely avoided a fatal wound. Still, he fell from his horse, not moving in the slightest. At the same time, tears welled in his eyes, which darted around to observe his surroundings.

Paralytic poison?

Shuou’s half-crazed horse had become a mere encumbrance. Abandoning the raging beast, he attempted to escape, rolling onto the ground. He then grabbed the sword of the paralyzed Bright, slashing at a Crimson Bee whose focus was on another person. Aiming for the Rabidaemon’s torso, he swung downward, but the creature dodged just in time, his sword cutting through the air.

He didn’t give up. Stepping forward, Shuou visited a thrust upon the Crimson Bee. However, when the blade touched the Rabidaemon, its beating wings blocked the weapon, sending it flying from Shuou’s hands.

Crimson, compound eyes glared back at him.

So we both have good vision.

The creatures’ eyes could discern each and every movement. Just like Shuou, their species possessed innately superior kinetic vision.

In the midst of this sudden and terrible situation, a group of courageous Brights surrounded the princess’s carriage, fortifying its defenses. Yet faced with these unnatural creatures, a few of their number trembled in fear. Screaming, one Bright fled from the carriage, immediately vanishing. As if being dragged into the depths of the earth, his crazed shrieking faded into nothingness.

“This can’t be—” Canaria cut off.

Watching this entire series of events had rendered the captain speechless. Shuou had noticed the same thing as her: the edge of a cliff lay ahead of them.

This is bad.

By the time he realized this, it was already too late. The Crimson Bees, which had been cautiously threatening them until now, had taken up positions in the rear. Worse, Shuou and the royal guards had their backs to the cliff. With white smoke obstructing their vision, they had fallen into a state of uncertainty, unable to gauge the distance to the ground.

Click-click-click-click, resounded the Crimson Bees’ mandibles.

Unable to endure this uncanny sound, which pounded against the eardrums, the horses became uncontrollable. In a mad scramble, the two beasts tied to the carriage bolted. Along with Canaria, who held onto the reins for dear life, they plunged from the edge of the cliff into the unfathomable depths.

Tossed from their rampaging horses, the remaining Brights writhed in agony. The Crimson Bees then pierced the royal guards with their forelegs, rendering them immobile. Two of the creatures continued emitting their menacing sounds. At the same time, another Crimson Bee produced a sharp, transparent proboscis from its mouth, sticking it into the neck of an immobilized Bright. 

“Awahwah…”

An eerie, incomprehensible groan escaped from the stabbed Bright, his body beginning to spasm inhumanly. At last, he ceased all movement, appearing to have died. Concurrently, something akin to scarlet fluid flowed through the proboscis stabbed into his neck, the Crimson Bee absorbing this liquid into its body.

A terrifying sight unfolded before Shuou’s eyes. The Bright’s corpse began to wither away, its contents drained little by little. Seeing this, Shuou recalled the remains of the doe he’d seen with Canaria a few days ago.

Was that an omen of things to come?

Before he could regret overlooking that sign, he needed to think of a way to survive. Princess Sa’salia and Canaria had both vanished into the netherworld. Likewise, the other Brights were half dead. Right now, he needed to prioritize his own survival, relying upon his myriad skills to escape.

The moment he considered this, Shuou noticed something. Yuuhina – Kazahina’s little sister – was crawling away from a Crimson Bee’s foreleg, fighting for her life to escape. Terrified, an abundance of snot, tears, and drool poured from her orifices. Scraping her buttocks against the ground, she struggled to flee from the approaching Rabidaemon.

Suddenly, her body leaned backwards. Behind her lay the cliff of unknowable height.

No!

Without considering the consequences, Shuou leapt forward. Already, Yuuhina was overcome with surprise, over half her body airborne. Shuou grabbed her, pulling the girl backwards. In exchange for reeling Yuuhina back to solid ground, Shuou’s own body was flung into the everlasting darkness concealed in a heavy fog.

Original text: https://ncode.syosetu.com/n4006r/15/

Chapter 29: Crimson Rabidaemons II

Once the early morning fog had cleared, Shuou practiced his swordsmanship in the courtyard of Adulelia manor, Kazahina watching over him. She had tasked him with fundamental training, which didn’t even amount to a child playing around with a stick.

Vertical slash, vertical slash, horizontal sweep, thrust. Shuou executed these movements at regular intervals. Since he performed fundamental, physical training on a daily basis, this method of practice caused him very little strain. Even so, he continued swinging the wooden sword as if his life depended on it, cutting no corners.

Like a stain, a memory stuck to the inside of Shuou’s mind, refusing to come off. At his first workplace, Miyahi – a senior Squire – had defeated him in a swordfight. Even now, regret and shame remained unsettled in his chest. Undoubtedly, his later actions had overwritten her earlier disappointment, but the fact remained. Within the framework of sword fighting, he had lost. Whenever the opportunity for a rematch arose, he wanted to be proud of his efforts, seizing an easy victory. Those aspirations propelled him forward. 

Throughout the courtyard, people were hanging up laundry and working in the garden. At first, these people had looked at him with curiosity, but now, they feigned disinterest, focusing on their work. Ostensibly, at least.

During training, Shuou wore light, easy to move around in clothing. Every so often, a winter wind – painful against his skin – blew past him. Yet as he began to sweat from exertion, that wind began to feel more pleasant. When his body started to warm and he began to forget the cold, Kazahina instructed him to stop training.

“We’ve only just started,” said Shuou.

Kazahina gestured with her chin. “Yes, but we have a visitor.”

Looking to where she’d indicated, Shuou discovered a Bright of the royal guard walking towards them, waving her hand.

“How long has it been, Kazahina?”

“Too long, Canaria.”

Canaria – a female Bright with a dignified bearing – wore a full smile, her nose wrinkling. “You’ve made quite a name for yourself since we last saw each other. A Solar Bright at your age. Not only that, you’re also the adjutant of the Solid Left Army’s Solar General.”

Kazahina smiled bashfully. “Oh, come now. You’re the one who was selected as captain of the royal guard.”

“Well, even though I was the head of our class, a certain someone had to leave me behind and keep rising through the ranks. That lit a jealous fire under me, and I ended up becoming head of the royal guard much faster than anticipated.”

After gazing at each other intently, the two female Brights burst out laughing. Watching them embrace and savor the joy of their reunion, Shuou could perceive the strength of their friendship.

“It really has been too long,” said Canaria. “I know this is sudden, but the thought of being able to see you helped me forget the melancholy of babysitting Her Highness.”

“Don’t let people hear you referring to it as babysitting.”

“People have the right to speak their mind when talking to an old friend. And anyway, you seem to be in the middle of some rather outstanding babysitting yourself.”

Canaria’s gaze pierced Shuou. His breathing still unsteady, Shuou greeted her for the first time.

“I see,” she replied. “My name is Canaria Faith. Despite appearances, I’m the captain of the royal guard. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

She offered him a smile as warm as a spring sunlight, her blonde hair mixed with red leaving a striking impression. Unlike when he’d met Amai a few days ago, Shuou sensed no deceit in her. Lured in, he returned the smile.

“The pleasure is all mine,” said Shuou.

“You seem close to Kazahina. Are you her apprentice?”

“No, I only asked her to train me in swordsmanship during my stay. We’re not master and apprentice.”

Kazahina nodded along, showing her agreement.

Canaria also nodded, seeming to understand something. “I see. If you’re receiving direct instruction in swordsmanship from Kazahina, you must have Lady Orthoclase’s favor. That much is clear.”

“Pardon?” asked Shuou.

“Oh, it’s only something to do with me. More importantly, since you’re training with the sword, I’ll spar with you as a special favor.”

After making this sudden suggestion, Canaria picked up the spare, wooden sword next to Shuou, not waiting for his answer.

“I’ve just started basic training,” he said. “I’m not ready to duel with―”

Canaria pointed the wooden sword at Shuou. “Are you sure?” she asked, staring him down with unyielding eyes. “I’m more skilled with a sword than Kazahina, and at Gemstone Academy, I maintained my rank as head of the class. That’s who’s offering to train with you.”

As Shuou struggled to answer, he noticed Kazahina beckoning to him. As he approached her and leaned his head in, she whispered so that Canaria wouldn’t hear. “She sulks whenever anyone turns down her invitations, so please accept the duel. And since she is a first-rate swordswoman, she’ll almost certainly go easy on a novice.”

If Kazahina – to whom he owed a debt – was requesting this of him, Shuou couldn’t refuse. “…Understood.”

“So, what’s your decision?” asked Canaria.

Watching the captain swing her sword around, trying to provoke him, Shuou could only wonder what sort of resentment she’d repressed within herself.

“I’ll do it,” he said. “Or rather, please serve as my sparring partner.”

Seeing Shuou lower his head, Canaria nodded in satisfaction. At her invitation, they moved over to the cobblestoned center of the courtyard. Far more stable than the damp earth, this would serve as a suitable place for sparring practice. Regardless, Shuou still felt uncomfortable.

After all, he would be far more conspicuous here.

Seeing Shuou and the captain of the royal guard holding wooden swords produced an immediate effect. Servants who had been working nearby gathered around them, as did Canaria’s subordinates who had overheard the conversation. Of course, the crowd drew the attention of even more people. Before long, a large number of Brights surrounded the rectangular stretch of cobblestones. Additionally, employees of the manor – showing some restraint – gathered around the crowd, their attention on the duelists.

“Can we do this another time?” Shuou wanted to ask.

Seeing Canaria loosen up with a composed expression, he backed down. Not a trace of disagreeableness shadowed her face. If Shuou fled in the midst of this attention, he would be tarnishing both his own reputation and the reputation of Duchess Adulelia, who had taken him in, treating him well.

Thus, he resolved to fight.

Their expressions free of tension, the young Brights observed the duelists from nearby. In fact, some of them looked at Shuou with sympathy.

Just how much… 

Shuou held his sword towards Canaria.

…do you want to see me lose?

Canaria held an identical, wooden sword towards Shuou.

Standing between them with her hand raised, Kazahina spoke to Canaria in a whisper before giving the signal to begin. “This is just training. You haven’t forgotten, have you?”

“Don’t be silly,” Canaria replied shortly.

Kazahina shot her a glance, which seemed to say, “This is my final confirmation.” In response, Canaria nodded.

A moment later, Kazahina lowered her hand, giving the signal to begin. Without a second’s delay, Canaria’s sword point pierced the air, aiming for Shuou’s chest. 

Weren’t you supposed to go easy on me!?

He had no time to utter a word of protest. For anyone but him, the attack would have landed. Relying on a split second decision, Shuou twisted his body to dodge, kicking off the ground and putting distance between them. 

As the crowd began to stir, surprise washed over Canaria’s face. Even so, she launched her next attack without delay. The sharp thrust of her thin, wooden sword gouged the air, assailing Shuou for a second time. This attack would have caused the average person to recoil, closing their eyes. Conversely, Shuou forgot to blink, concentrating on the movements of the sword.

Fearless, his mind remained tranquil. He recalled his first ever sword duel with Miyahi. The heaviness in his hands and uneasiness in his body had taken control of him. Yet he was no longer that discomposed version of himself.

How can this time be so different?

Bending his upper body backwards, Shuou dodged another stab. Usually, the human eye couldn’t perceive an attack so fast, but to his perception, it appeared to have stopped in time. Canaria had thrust her sword outward. Her wrist, which gripped the handle, stood out as the perfect opening.

Shuou felt tempted to cast aside his sword, grabbing hold of Canaria’s thin, defenseless wrist. If he did so now, he could achieve absolute victory. After all, he’d risked his life to acquire techniques that crushed one’s fighting spirit. Based on their current spacing, he was in a perfect position to use those moves.

He cleared the momentary temptation from his mind. Instead, as Canaria leaned forward, he swept her legs, making her lose balance. In a sudden reversal, Shuou now took the offensive stance. Lifting the wooden sword with his right hand, he gripped the handle with his left hand as well, swinging it towards a still unbalanced Canaria’s shoulder.

At a complete advantage, Shuou would deliver this blow to a staggered enemy. However, Canaria showed no sign of panic, lifting her sword and blocking his attack.

Push.

Shuou possessed superior arm strength and an advantageous stance. Increasing his force, he continued pushing downwards. In spite of this, he felt no resistance, his blade striking cobblestone. Scrambling away from him, Canaria brushed the dust from her knees.

Incredible.

In that moment, Canaria had used her blade as a wall, relying upon Shuou’s downward swing to fix her balance. Though Shuou possessed superior size and strength, Canaria had fought while using this to her advantage.

Now a fair distance away from Shuou, Canaria gazed at him with a meek expression. “I underestimated you.”

“Should I apologize?” asked Shuou.

“Seeing how well you move, I find it difficult to believe that you just started training with the sword. If you went into this battle hiding your expertise, then yes, I would appreciate a word of apology.”

“I’m not lying. Truly, I just started training with the sword. But… I’ve been training without a sword for much longer.”

“Ah… I see.” Seeming satisfied, Canaria didn’t pursue the matter any further. “Let’s start from the beginning. Now that I know your true strength, I can face you accordingly.”

When Shuou nodded, the pair readied their swords again.

This time, Shuou initiated. From its raised position, he swung his blade vertically, Canaria responding with a gentle parry. Immediately, Shuou swept his sword sideways, drawing a straight line. However, Canaria shot backwards, dodging this attack. 

“You really are a novice,” she observed. “Your ability to dodge and measure distance is first-class, but your attacks are far too straightforward and one note.”

No sooner than she’d finished speaking, Canaria stepped forward with her right foot, assuming a thrusting stance.

Who are you calling “one note”?

Anticipating his opponent’s next strike, Shuou readied himself for a quick evasion. However…

She disappeared!?

Shuou lost sight of the wooden sword that should have been propelling directly towards him. From Canaria’s shoulders, he followed the movement of her arms. Aiming for his wrists, her sword sliced upwards from low stance. The point of her sword drew near his hands. Her attack was a rapacious one, covetous of victory. For a moment, he lost sight of the situation, Canaria’s skills captivating him. How could she perform such a feat in a mere instant?

Letting go of his wooden sword, Shuou dodged Canaria’s upward swing. He didn’t give her a moment to feel confused. From midair, he grabbed his sword once more, and in the midst of intense focus, he stepped forward with his right foot, assuming a thrusting stance. In preparation for this thrust, Canaria tried to twist her body. Having no time to spare, this was the best evasive action she could have taken. Yet one moment later, Shuou’s wooden sword struck her wrist. Dropping to the cobblestones, her blade produced a dry, rattling sound.

Kazahina’s words broke the momentary silence. 

“We have our victor!” she cried.

While the Brights gaped, rendered speechless, the manor’s employees demonstrated the opposite reaction. Despite having watched the duel with some reserve, they now raised a thunderous cheer, breaking into excited applause. Looking up, Shuou discovered that even those peeking their heads from the second-story windows were cheering and applauding.

Returning his gaze to the courtyard, Shuou found a group of Brights surrounding Canaria, watching over her with meek expressions. Staring at the ground dumbfoundedly, she pressed down on her left wrist, which had turned red and swollen.

“Canaria…” Shuou trailed off.

The current atmosphere wouldn’t allow him to thank her for serving as his opponent. 

Without waiting for his reply, Canaria muttered something to herself. “Since I was a child, I never missed a day of training. How much time and effort do you think I’ve―” Raising her head, she glared at Shuou, tears welling in her eyes. “I demand a rematch!”

A woman’s scream and the sound of shattering glass resounded from a building adjacent to the duchess’s manor. Looking in the direction of the commotion, Shuou found a broken chair and fragmented glass scattered across the ground.

One of the observing Brights called out to a still agitated Canaria. “Captain, I think there’s something wrong with the princess.” 

Fixing her messy hair, Canaria took a deep breath, responding in a calm voice. “I did check beforehand, but there might have been a spider in her room. I’ll go take a look.”

Looking at Shuou for a second time, she began to say something. Nevertheless, she hesitated, closing her mouth and racing towards the annex. Once the royal guard – led by Canaria – had disappeared, a shout from Kazahina quieted the uproar.

Taking Shuou’s wooden sword, she handed him a cloth. “Good job.”

“Should she have done that?” asked Shuou, wiping his face.

Kazahina tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

“Even if she was going easy on me, I still beat her in front of everyone.” 

“…She wasn’t going easy on you.”

“But―”

“She only treated the duel as training with a beginner during the first half. So far as I could tell, Canaria fought you with her full strength during the latter half.”

“In that case, I…”

The realization that he’d defeated a skilled swordswoman took time to process. Looking at the palms of his hands, the skin had begun to thicken in some places, but that was all. He hadn’t trained nearly long enough for his flesh to tear and form calluses.

“Even so, she was fighting under a certain set of restrictions,” Kazahina said coolly.

Shuou’s head jerked up. “You’re right. She wasn’t using Crynetic Energy.”

“Exactly,” Kazahina said with a nod. “During close quarters combat, a skilled Bright will always make effective use of Crynetic Energy in combination with their weapon. That being said, you were also fighting under a certain set of restrictions, weren’t you?”

Shuou answered with a reserved nod.

Kazahina spoke without hesitation, her expression gentle. “You both pledged to fight with swords, and you won that battle. It’s perfectly fine to feel confident and happy about that.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

Though Shuou smiled back at her, it wasn’t sincere. Rather than the joy of winning, Canaria’s sorrowful expression flitted across his mind, sticking in his heart like a small thorn. As she’d said before leaving, Canaria had dedicated many years of her life to the sword. Having just faced her in battle, Shuou believed those words without needing anyone else’s confirmation.

But what about himself?

Shuou had only been practicing his swinging for a few days: something anyone could do. Regardless, he’d seized victory against a skilled swordsman by relying on his innately superior vision. Though he didn’t feel as if he’d cheated, his discontent remained.

After cleaning up and heading back to the manor, Kazahina said something that only intensified those emotions. “Honestly, I’m surprised by how quickly you’ve mastered the sword. Based on these results, you have a natural gift. I can say that much with certainty.”

Oh, I see.

Something prickled Shuou’s chest. At long last, he found the word to describe this unpleasant emotion.

It was guilt.

***

After training, Shuou felt a little hungry. Just like yesterday, he headed towards the kitchens by himself, walking down a long corridor.

What’s going on?

His surroundings had changed. Regardless of gender, the servants he crossed paths with locked eyes with him, offering light bows. Before, they’d mostly shot secretive glances at him from a distance. Since no one had ever acted so amiably towards him before, Shuou felt more than a little perplexed.

Upon entering the kitchens, his confusion only increased. Same as yesterday, the chefs were hard at work. However, once they noticed Shuou’s arrival, everyone came to a stop, raising an earth rumbling cheer. Their response, which differed so much from the day before, baffled Shuou. 

A young chef – likely still an apprentice – appeared before him, holding a plate of lavish food. “Um, the head chef instructed me to give this to you.”

“T-Thank you…” 

As Shuou took the food with both hands, a hard-faced chef – standing behind the apprentice – raised his hand slightly.

Still a boy by all appearances, the apprentice shouted in excitement, his face flushed. “What you did in the courtyard was incredible! Seeing you defeat that great Bright in a duel really impressed me!”

Taking a break from work, the others nodded to each other in agreement.

“Um, this looks very delicious,” said Shuou, raising his voice so that the entire kitchen could hear him. “Thank you very much.”

A lavish meal in his hands, Shuou left the kitchens, the applause of the chefs trailing behind him. During the walk back to his room, young women greeted him, offering squeals of encouragement. In response to everyone’s sudden transformation, Shuou could only tilt his head.

***

Late afternoon arrived, the time in which everyone took their breaks. Following his post-meal relaxation, Shuou walked down a corridor by himself, planning to exchange a book he’d finished reading. His impression of books being old and damp likely came from the ones Amane – his adoptive guardian and master – had sometimes carried, all of which had been tattered from long use.

Even so, this negative impression had completely changed upon seeing the archives of Adulelia Manor. A moderate amount of sunlight entered through the windows, there were specialized librarians, and rows of immaculate books formed neat rows, their management quite meticulous. In that sense, it was a grand spectacle.

Shuou entered the archives, finding the aged librarian’s chair – located near the entrance – empty. All at once, he worried about being unable to accomplish his goal. Upon arriving, the duchess had given him permission to do as he wished. Still, with the librarian absent, he hesitated to carry out any books without permission.

At the very least, I can still return my previous loans.

Bringing back his books wouldn’t cause any sort of inconvenience. Heavy tomes in hand, Shuou headed towards the inner shelves. When the faint sound of someone turning pages reached his ears, he stopped in his tracks.

Is someone else here?

If so, it was probably the old librarian. Happy that he hadn’t made the trip in vain, he walked towards the source of the sound.

“Oh!”

“Oh…”

As soon as they saw each other, Shuou and Canaria Faith made the same sound, falling silent. Holding a timeworn, rectangular book, the captain stared at him in surprise.

“Thank you for this morning,” said Shuou, trying to find an inoffensive greeting.

“The pleasure is all mine. Right after we met, I forced you into a duel, and despite having full confidence in myself, I lost all too easily. Pathetic, isn’t it? I wouldn’t blame anyone for laughing at me.”

“I only won because of my former training. I’m aware that you went easy on me.”

Donning a troubled smile, Canaria shook her head. “Honestly, based on your inexperience, I hoped to make you admit defeat. That was the extent of my thinking. Yet once we started, I immediately realized how extraordinary your movements were. As you know, I then got worked up and fought my hardest, leading to you turning the tables on me.”

Despite speaking in jest, Canaria seemed as if she were forcing herself to remain jovial.

“…I see,” said Shuou.

“This might sound odd coming from me, but you needn’t feel so disheartened. In fact, I’m thankful to you for making me aware of my own hubris.”

Wordlessly, Shuou nodded. Saying something tactless would only wound her self-esteem.

A moment later, Canaria looked at the stack of books in Shuou’s hands. “By the way, it looks like you came here to make a return.”

“I finished reading these books, so I wanted to exchange them for new ones. But since the librarian isn’t here, I decided to just return them for now.”

“How admirable of you. The old man was here until a little while ago, but he left to go eat. ‘If you want to borrow anything, just write it down on a slip of paper,’ he told me. It’s probably fine if you do the same.”

“I see. Then that’s what I’ll do.”

Accepting Canaria’s suggestion, Shuou began returning his books to their former positions, his hands becoming lighter with each volume put away. All the while, the captain held the same book as before, quietly absorbed in reading its contents. As such, Shuou’s curiosity got the better of him, and he dispelled any reservations about interrupting her.

“What are you reading?” he asked.

“A map of Adulelia. It’s rather old, but unlike the royal capital, Adulelia hardly ever alters its terrain, so its age shouldn’t be a problem. That’s what I’ve heard, at least.”

“A map?”

Peering at the book in Canaria’s hands, Shuou did indeed find a map, which seemed to depict the territory of Adulelia in great detail. Looking up, he discovered the captain staring at him.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

“I apologize for prying, but you look like a northerner. And at your age, it doesn’t seem as though you’ve been hired as a mercenary. I find myself curious about your history as a Murakumo soldier.”

Shuou tried to answer with as few lies as possible. “I grew up in the royal capital. Since I was an orphan, I know nothing of my origins. Later, I ended up joining the military through participation in Gemstone Academy’s graduation exam. Sorry, but I’m not allowed to discuss how I came to Adulelia.”

“My thanks. You’ve explained more than enough. Still, I am interested in why Lady Orthoclase has decided to support you. Claiming otherwise would be a lie.”

“I’m sorry,” said Shuou, unable to answer.

Being forbidden to honestly reveal his origins frustrated Shuou. He’d thought as much more than a few times.

“I know this is sudden, but do you have plans for the rest of the day?” asked Canaria.

Shuou held up the few remaining books in his hands. “No. After returning these, I had nothing else planned.”

“Then would you mind accompanying me for a little while?”

“I don’t mind, but what for?”

“Just a short walk.”

Canaria showed him the old map in her hands, inviting Shuou for an outing.

***

Fortunately, their journey was on foot, as Canaria had promised. As they passed through the large courtyard and headed out the front gate, Shuou noticed Brights of the royal guard retrieving broken pieces of glass from before the annex.

“Is that from this morning?” he asked.

Canaria donned a somber expression. “Yes, Lady Sa’salia does that sort of thing from time to time.”

“Goes on a rampage, you mean?”

“Not without reason, though. She hates insects, you see. Everyone tries to be careful, but if the tiniest insect enters her room, she starts throwing objects all around herself in a half-crazed frenzy. In the most extreme cases, she’s even used her Crynetic Energy indiscriminately.”

“…That’s terrible.”

Shuou had thought of Princess’s Sa’salia as a lifeless, lethargic doll. Nevertheless, two things contradicted this: Canaria’s explanation and being struck with a scepter. The princess also possessed an unstable, aggressive side to her personality, it seemed. As a momentary victim of her instability, Shuou experienced a surge of sympathy for the daily struggles of Canaria.

Breaking into a smile, Canaria cast her skyward. “It’s pathetic, but part of me has grown completely accustomed to her behavior. While staying in Adulelia, I wanted to do my utmost to not upset Her Highness, but Lady Orthoclase is taking a strict stance against the princess. Still, as someone caught in the middle, I’ve hardened my resolve.”

“If I can be of any help, let me know,” said Shuou.

Noticing the slight bags under her eyes, he felt sorry for the captain, unconsciously blurting out those words.

Canaria wore an impish grin. “You’ll regret saying that so lightly.”

“I-I’ve got a lot of time on my hands,” Shuou responded with a stiff smile. “That’s all.”

Seeing the obvious regret in his reaction, Canaria laughed, transforming into a beautiful, carefree woman befitting her age. Passing through the gate, they continued along the gentle slope leading to the city’s center. Along the way, there were many branching paths. Holding her map in one hand, Canaria chose a number of narrow roads, ardently observing their terrain and what lay ahead.

When the sun reached its zenith, she chose to investigate a wide road used for transporting large goods. This path connected to the northern and southern Alabaster Roads managed by Adulelia. Due to its importance, the road had been well maintained. Even so, Canaria chose to investigate a small side trail leading deeper into the mountain.

“You’re even looking here?” asked Shuou.

“I need to uncover all locations in which enemies could hide or enter from the outside. Also, our foes don’t always come from without. In case of an emergency, I need to have memorized a plan of escape. You should remember this as well. When staying in an unfamiliar place for a long period of time, you should first drill an escape route into your mind.”

Like a game trail, Canaria’s chosen path became steeper and narrower as it progressed. Yet even in the deepest places, the snow only reached their ankles. As such, walking barely verged on becoming difficult. When the road came to an abrupt halt, Shuou could hear the sound of rushing water striking against something.

“It’s a waterfall,” he said.

A cliff lay beyond the dead end. The sight unfolding below was so wondrous, a single glance left a striking impression. From the top of a rocky mountain, a white waterfall cascaded downward. At its bottom, the water splashed against moss, a myriad of sparkling droplets studding the surface. Furthermore, craggy boulders were scattered about like an intricate labyrinth, forming a road farther inward.

While the scenery captivated Shuou, Canaria observed the landscape with more realistic thoughts in mind. “I’m interested to know how far inward the space below us extends, but with our current equipment, a descent would be difficult.”

“Should we head back?”

“Yes, let’s return to the original path before night falls.”

In contrast to her words, Canaria didn’t turn back, finding something under her feet and reaching into the snow.

“This is the perfect length,” she said, holding a long, sturdy branch in her hand. Straightening, she used it as a sword, performing a series of practice swings and thrusts. “I can’t stop thinking about our duel. No matter how many times I replay the fight in my mind, I can’t figure out your final move.”

Finding a branch of similar length to the one she held, Canaria tossed it to Shuou.

“Are you asking for a rematch right now?” he asked.

“I have every right to request one. Once again, I ask: Who are you?”

“Nobody important… Right now, I’m merely a Squire sentenced to house arrest.”

“I haven’t trained in such a way to allow a mere Squire to defeat me,” said Canaria, her voice rising stubbornly. “During this morning’s duel, I unleashed a feint used to create an opening in your defense. Not only did you dodge that attack, but you also imitated it immediately afterwards. At the same time, I know that you’re an inexperienced swordsman. Copying such an advanced technique in such a short period of time shouldn’t be possible. As the person protecting the last remaining member of Murakumo’s royal family, I can’t allow someone so suspicious near the princess.”

Canaria wore a grim expression. She clearly wasn’t joking, and she wouldn’t allow an offhand excuse, Shuou realized.

“Would you believe that I can see all of your movements clearly?” he asked.

“What?”

“Everything is clear to my eye. When concentrating, I can see the movement of objects with perfect precision. It’s an innate ability of mine, so―”

Before he could finish speaking, a fist-sized stone began closing in on his nose. Despite being confused by this sudden event, he shifted his face to the right before the stone struck, managing to dodge it.

Canaria stood rooted in place, unable to conceal her surprise. “…You’re telling the truth, it would seem.”

After all that, Shuou didn’t need to ask who’d launched the stone.

“I’m glad you believe me,” he said, “but no more surprise attacks. Please.”

When Shuou protested her actions, Canaria’s expression finally loosened, her shoulders relaxing. “I apologize. But without confirmation, I wouldn’t have been able to believe your words so easily. Still… In that case, you observed my movements during the fight, copying what I had already done.”

Shuou nodded in confirmation.

“Imitating advanced techniques isn’t so easy,” Canaria sighed. “In other words, you already have the physical abilities needed to do so.”

“Do you think I cheated?”

“No, I haven’t fallen low enough to consider the use of one’s talents as cheating. Now wonder you didn’t flinch during my first attack… You have an incredible ability, but don’t get carried away. Having only one eye is a disadvantage. The scope in which you can see is limited. In fact, no human can look in all directions at once.”

Her movements sluggish, Canaria thrust her sword in Shuou’s direction. Despite finding this strange, dodging the attack wouldn’t require much effort. Yet when he forced his legs to twist his upper body backwards, Shuou realized something unexpected.

“Wha―!?”

His right foot caught, sinking into something. He then fell backwards onto the ground. His back stinging, Canaria looked down on him, wearing a boastful smile.

“Take a good look,” she said.

When Canaria pointed to Shuou’s feet, he looked down as well. In this solitary space, the ground had melted into sludge, his feet completely stuck.

“Is that the power of your Miracrystal?” he asked.

“Normally, a Bright uses their sword in combination with Crynetic Energy. If you only focus in one direction, this is what will become of you. Have I made this lesson clear?”

“Almost too clear,” said Shuou, donning a wry smile. “Thank you for the lesson, Professor.”

In response to his light sarcasm, Canaria awkwardly placed a hand on her mouth. “I needed to make up for my loss, you understand.”

As they laughed together, Shuou took Canaria’s proffered hand. Yet when she lifted him out of the sludge, he noticed something unsettling in his field of vision, pulling the captain in that direction.

“What are you doing!?” she cried out.

“Quiet.”

Sensing his tension, Canaria closed her mouth at once, nodding. Shuou then searched for the source of his unease. It originated from two dull lights visible within the brush.

Eyes?

Leaving Canaria behind, he approached the brush. When he could see the object clearly, his tension dissipated.

“Just an animal carcass…” he murmured.

The remains of a doe stared back at him.

“Oh, is that all?” asked Canaria. “We’re essentially in the center of the mountains. It’s not so unusual to find animal carcasses out here.”

“Still, it looks a little strange.” Using the wooden branch he held, Shuou moved to a location where he could better see the deer carcass. “This doe shows no signs of predation, but its remains are flattened, as if something removed its insides.”

“Yes, you’re right.”

Nothing remained of the doe save for hide and bones. When Shuou poked the carcass with his stick, he felt not the slightest resistance of flesh. Its eyes and tongue remained intact, and a cursory inspection of the whole body revealed no signs of decomposition.

From behind, the cawing of a crow pierced the air. Their eyes wide, Shuou and Canaria whirled around. A single, black bird  – coming to flock around death  – stared back at them.

“Let’s head back before nightfall,” said Canaria.

Alone, she began walking in the direction from which they’d come, the eerie atmosphere seeming to weigh down on her.　

Are you scared?

Unspoken thoughts secreted away in his chest, Shuou followed after her. Turning around, he found a murder of crows now flocking around the doe’s remains, pecking at the remnants of its dark and cloudy eyeballs.

Original text: https://ncode.syosetu.com/n4006r/15/