Chapter 32

Under the night sky where stars were rising.

On a deserted clearing by a mountain pass.

Ethan, who'd stood frozen at the frost-covered voice, loosened his grip. As he staggered backward, Mikhail's arm slipped free from his grasp.

...Right, it was just as he'd heard.

Between him and the person before his eyes lay a chasm not easily crossed. He'd just forgotten momentarily while absorbed in urgent matters.

"......"

Ethan lowered his head and pressed his lips shut.

A chilly night breeze briefly touched then fell away. Light footsteps began passing by Ethan's side.

No, he didn't want this.

Having to vaguely promise some uncertain future again without gaining any conviction.

His heart began pounding more fiercely in time with the receding footsteps.

Ethan, who'd been listening to Mikhail's footsteps growing distant, whipped around.

"Mikhail, wait."

"......"

The retreating figure didn't turn back, but the footsteps stopped moving for just a moment.

Ethan, staring at Mikhail's back, took a deep breath before continuing.

"Right. It's just as you said. Like you say, we're not in a position to comfortably exchange words with each other."

Once he started speaking, his tongue that had been stuck stiff began pouring out the words contained inside.

Ethan's voice as he recited the situation was filled with self-mockery directed at himself.

"But I'm... anxious. Beyond words. Because as the day I'll stand on the front line gets closer day by day, I feel like my ability is strangling me. But even so, I can't leave this place and run away."

Ethan bit his lips hard and took a step toward Mikhail.

"I'll be honest. I just tried to test you. I'm truly sorry about that. But, shamelessly, I'm asking one more favor. Let me see your properly manifested magic...!"

"Ethan."

Mikhail moved his gaze from looking straight ahead. The eyes staring directly at Ethan were the color of pale, barren winter.

"I think I've already shown enough goodwill."

"......"

"And you're seriously mistaken about something. How desperate you are isn't a valid bargaining chip for me."

Mikhail pressed on toward Ethan in an emotionless tone, then turned his head again.

A crooked sneer caught on his descending breath.

"And I have no intention of understanding you."

Rustle, rustle.

Mikhail, finishing his words like grinding them out, moved his steps without hesitation and before long disappeared into the bushes.

What remained in the wide clearing was one person.

"......"

Ethan exhaled a trembling breath long and slow.

He slowly tilted his head back and stared at the quiet night sky.

Though he'd just received an armful of harsh words, no particular anger welled up.

What remained thickly was a familiar irritation.

"How stupid. It was like this before too."

With the murmur, Ethan's gaze fell downward.

Night wind resembling a bitter gale mixed with his sigh. Ethan picked up the wooden sword from the ground and turned toward the main road.

Over his face that had hardened like an old taxidermy, an expressionless look difficult to read was fixed as always.

---

Rustle, rustle, rustle.

Mikhail moved through the bushes. He moved aimlessly toward where his feet led him.

He knew the geography of the area well anyway.

It didn't matter if he walked a bit farther.

"......"

Then suddenly, Mikhail stopped.

He raised his hand and wiped under his chin. Sweat droplets stuck together messily like half-melted candle wax, quite bothersome.

"Ha..."

A dry breath rose up his throat.

Every time he opened and closed his eyelids, what flickered was Ethan's face that had passed by his side earlier.

What had briefly shown beneath the expression that had hardened as if carved from wood was vivid self-mockery.

'He should've just gotten openly angry instead.'

Mikhail swallowed his breath that rustled like dry sand grains.

...In truth, he didn't feel comfortable after snapping at him. Throwing away someone's desperation wasn't a pleasant thing at all.

But cutting things off so Ethan's interest couldn't extend any further was the top priority.

For the smooth progression of the main storyline.

For his own safety and smooth growth. So the knowledge he possessed wouldn't fade.

So everyone could reach a satisfactory ending....

Everything.

So the story could flow exactly as in the original.

Rustle.

What eventually appeared before his eyes was a single lantern tree.

Mikhail stared blankly at the leaves giving off a gentle light, then slowly approached and leaned against the trunk.

The forest's master silently embraced the unfamiliar traveler.

"......"

Mikhail stood still and stared straight ahead.

Under the night view that was familiar to the point of being monotonous, only the bitterness forming and disappearing on his tongue tip was momentarily clear.

---

Two days passed from then.

The convoy had reached a point past the midpoint of the journey.

During that time they'd camped twice and finished three practical activities like escort formation composition and mock combat formation drills.

They'd become comfortable enough to exchange words freely with their unit seniors Ann and Joan, and the workers inside the carriage.

And the teammates Mikhail and Ethan...

"......"

...Since the sparring on the first day, they just faithfully attended to their training.

They spent each day without any particular conflicts or arguments.

Clatter. Rattle.

Inside the carriage advancing over rough road surfaces.

Ethan, who'd been checking outside at the vehicle body shaking more severely than usual, pulled his head back inside the carriage.

A worker sitting in the corner with a darkened complexion pounded his chest, then stuck out his tongue at Ethan.

"...Wow, look at this student? Even though the ride quality is this terrible, he doesn't show a single sign of his stomach turning."

The other workers also let out half-dead groans, but soon looked at Ethan and added words one by one.

"Is it 'cause he's young? Youth really is a good thing."

"Hey now! If you say that, what about this student here? He's just as young!"

One worker chided in a reproachful tone, then looked at Mikhail and asked carefully.

"Hey, student. Are you okay? Pull yourself together a bit. ...Looks like he's about to keel over backward any moment?"

All the eyes inside the vehicle focused on Mikhail.

But Mikhail just kept repeatedly dry heaving with a pale face. He couldn't even answer.

"Urk..."

At his appearance like he'd faint any moment, one of the workers clicked his tongue and shook his head.

"Good grief, I hope he doesn't end up needing a funeral... This road is originally treacherous, but even so, I've never seen someone get this severely motion sick."

Ethan asked the worker.

"Is there any way to help him feel better?"

"Right now, no medicine will help. Unless we stop the carriage, he just has to grit his teeth and endure it. That's why we're all bearing it without complaint too... Gack!"

Rattle!

The carriage shook violently. The worker who'd just been speaking seemed to have bitten his tongue as he rolled on the floor making pained sounds.

"Grrrr..."

It was nothing short of a complete mess.

Mikhail barely suppressed the nausea surging up and gathered his hazy mind.

His vision was spinning and bending, and the loud chattering sounds struck his ears, making things chaotic in many ways.

But the one thing he'd just heard was right.

Like the workers said, the current motion sickness... that is, this status ailment would gradually get better if he endured it.

'It wasn't originally a status ailment placed as an obstacle anyway.'

Rather, it was one of the devices meant to indirectly express the roughness of the Gilteur Mountains and the foundation for magical beast attacks.

So after an appropriate amount of time passed, it was a discomfort that would cleanly disappear under the pretext of adaptation.

Though right now his stomach was turning and he felt like dying.

'...Ha, if I'd known I'd end up inside the game, I never would've put in content like this.'

Mikhail narrowed his brow and steadied his breathing.

However, as if adding insult to injury.

There was one more thing making him more on edge than the motion sickness churning his insides.

'...Why is this happening?'

Mikhail grimaced and rubbed the back of his neck.

Since mixing into the main storyline's convoy, whenever he was about to forget it, that fishy and sticky wind that dully wrapped around him.

It kept becoming more vivid.

Unpleasant sensations and irritation crept in slowly.

Swoosh.

That's when it happened. The curtain was pulled back and Joan suddenly stuck her head inside the carriage.

"In a bit it'll be time to switch. This time Mikhail will be on watch..."

But the words didn't continue.

The Mikhail reflected in Joan's eyes looked like he couldn't even stay on a horse, let alone perform escort duties.

Joan eventually trailed off and smiled awkwardly.

"Mmm, doesn't look like it'll work."

Ethan looked at Joan and readily stood up from his seat.

"Senior, I'll do it."

"Yeah, that's better."

Joan immediately agreed and answered in kind.

Next she looked at Mikhail once with pitying eyes and lowered the curtain she'd pulled back.

Ethan wrapped his cloak around himself and prepared to leave.

Tap.

With light footsteps, Ethan's figure disappeared toward outside the carriage.

Mikhail watched this, then lowered his eyes.

His stomach still felt queasy—it seemed like he'd need a bit more time before his condition improved.

---

Meanwhile, outside the carriage.

Ann, who'd been checking the surroundings on horseback, glanced backward.

A few steps behind, the combat department junior was keeping watch in all directions.

"Ahem."

Ann glanced at the carriage once, then cleared her throat unnecessarily and slowed her horse. She casually asked Ethan, who rode alongside her.

"Hey. I've got something to ask."

"Yes, senior. Please go ahead."

"Mmm, it's nothing much. You and Mikhail. I actually heard you two don't get along very well. Something about being hostile or whatever... But seeing you in person, it doesn't seem that bad."

Ann glanced at Ethan, then put her hand to her mouth and lowered her voice.

"Did you make up now?"

Ethan didn't answer right away. Instead, he hung a vague smile at the corner of his mouth and lowered his eyes.

Ann watched this quietly while thinking, then spoke with a bright face as if understanding something.

"Ah, I see! Right! Even if you fight pretty hostilely, you can become friends again! Adults always say kids become friends through fighting, right?"

Ann shrugged her shoulders and turned her head forward.

Joan, who'd been riding a few steps ahead, subtly slowed down and was following alongside them.

"Right, that's what friendships are like. I also have a close friend I used to fight with tooth and nail, but now I can't live without her because I'd be bored? There's no other friend who understands me like her. So you two will definitely..."

"No."

Ethan smiled bitterly and shook his head.

"...I don't think we'll be able to understand each other."

A deep shadow fell over Ethan's eyes. His answering voice sank as if submerging beneath deep water.

Ann and Joan rounded their eyes and closed their mouths.

After exchanging a glance while choosing what to say, they deliberately brightened their voices and patted Ethan's back.

"Aw, well. Yeah! That can happen too. There are people in the world you can't become friends with no matter what! Right? ...But they say you're doing well socially as long as you don't make enemies. It's fine even if you just get along peacefully like now. Right?"

"...Yes."

At their shameless change of topic, Ethan nodded and smiled with a slightly brighter face.

Ann and Joan also looked at each other and smiled.

—!

That moment.

Ethan flinched in surprise, then sharpened his senses. He placed his hand on his sword hilt and quickly scanned all directions.

"Ethan? Why suddenly."

Ann and Joan were expressing confusion.

Rustle.

The surrounding bushes shook violently. Killing intent that suddenly drew near began spreading through the air.