1

Boxroot.

Even in Arc-Shaped Archipelago Yamato, that name was well-known.

The name had originally belonged to the mountains, but it had become the region’s name, the name of the mountain pass, and the name of the fortress as well.

There were several highways that ran from eastern Yamato to western Yamato, but all the highways on the Pacific side had to pass through the fortress of Boxroot. With the exception of marine transportation, it was practically the only trade route, and it was a strategic strong point as well.

On Earth, the place was called “Hakone,” and of course Touya knew that. They’d covered it in his social studies class, and he’d had friends who’d gone there with their families on vacation.

What had left the biggest impression on him was a WebTV travel program.

At Touya’s house, they’d often had that program on during dinner. His mother liked traveling, and now that Touya’s legs didn’t work right, the only trips they could really take him on were to hot springs resorts, so they watched this sort of program a lot. When he’d seen Hakone through the monitor, his only impression of it had been its lake and hot spring, but…

Right now, Touya’s group was making its way up a Boxroot mountain road.

It had been nearly half a day since they’d started up the trail, but Touya and the others had been startled. It was serious enough that one could have said they were flabbergasted. After all, it was a bona fide mountain trek.

People might say, What are you talking about? You’re so dumb, but those were Touya’s real feelings. The road was only about three meters across, just barely wide enough to let the cart pass. From time to time, there were areas that had been reinforced with curbstones or stakes, but most of it was red clay, and it looked as if it would get very muddy if it rained.

That unstable road twisted and curved, hugging the hillside. On the right was an ascending slope that ran up to the mountain peaks and was covered thickly with trees that looked like Japanese cedars. On the left, another slope ran down into the valley, and the landscapes featured dizzying drops.

The scenery alone would have been one thing, but since the highway stuck close to the rock face, the whims of the terrain made them climb slightly, then descend a little, wind from side to side, and sometimes switch back so far it felt as if they’d reversed direction. In March, the mountain was still wintry and desolate, but nature was hardy, and the air was filled with the scent and rustle of deep green.

In other words, even though they’d grown used to post-Catastrophe Theldesia, Touya, Minori, and Serara were city kids at heart, and the sight was enough to shock them.

Isuzu was better acquainted with “nature” than the other three, but her familiarity with it went only as far as the fact that the back of the landowner’s mountain rose on the other side of the fields, or that the weeds that grew thickly on the freakishly wide, dry riverbed were as tall as she was, or that it was possible to harvest mystery watermelons from the untended vegetable garden behind the school. This humorless, genuine mountain road left her dumbfounded.

In the first place, this world was supposed to be bursting at the seams with ruins from the Age of Myth.

They felt like complaining that this other world had a Tokyo Expressway, even if it was crumbling in quite a few places, so why did the Hakone Pass have to be an unpaved mountain trail?

It wasn’t even a woodland lane, soft with leaf mold. Enormous wet black rocks twice as tall as Touya jutted out of it abruptly, and the road had to detour to avoid them.

Rundelhaus, the only one with experience, nodded knowingly. “This is why, when we departed this morning, I said we would have to work very hard today,” he told them, sounding mildly rankled.

When he heard that, even Touya had to fire himself up.

The one bright spot was Roe2, who had said she would accompany them, and the Pale Horse she’d summoned. The ashen horse looked bloodless, but it was strong. Roe2 had called it after she’d used the Coach System to lower her level, and even then, it pulled them forward all by itself with power that was even greater than what they’d had with two horses.

The mountain road undulated, up and down, over and over. Even riding in the cart was painful, and they couldn’t go fast, so Rundelhaus and Touya had gotten down and were walking ahead of it.

The girls slumped in the covered cart, or sometimes walked behind it.

A round, whitish wolf pup ran up to Touya’s feet, then twined around them, looking gallant and proud of itself. It was a dead ringer for a white Shiba Inu, as far as Touya was concerned, but according to Serara, it was “Wolfie.” It had been summoned using a special technique in the servant summoning magic system, and unless Serara ordered it to do so, it wouldn’t vanish. Since that was the case, during their journey, except when they slept at inns, it often guarded the area for them like this.

“I can summon guard spirits, too, you know.”

“My thanks, but no, sister Roe2.”

Roe2 spoke lazily from the driver’s seat, and Rundelhaus looked back, answering firmly.

That morning, just to see, they’d had Roe2 show them her Zombie Bats, and they’d looked very grotesque. It had been so bad that Serara had crouched down, her eyes tearing up. In addition, they didn’t need to be guarded that heavily, so they’d vetoed the idea of patrolling with Roe2’s Zombie Bats. Besides, since she’d already summoned the Pale Horse, it would have taken too much mana to maintain them.

“They’re cute in their own way, once you get used to them…”

Roe2’s class was Summoner, which made summoning her specialty. Summoners were a type of magician that could call forth a variety of summoned creatures and make them act in the magician’s stead. Since they had a group of special skills that could be applied across an extremely wide range, they were considered the class whose activity had increased the most in the post-Catastrophe world. Typical examples included Undines, which could create water and control cold air, and Salamanders, which generated flames and manipulated heat.

The single term “Summoner” covered several orientations, which could be roughly divided into four categories: Elementalists, who controlled spirits like Undines and Salamanders; Beast Tamers, who controlled unicorns and Carbuncles; Alchemics, who summoned eccentric, artificial creatures such as slimes and golems; and Necromancers, who used skeletons and phantoms.

The relationships between these orientations weren’t exclusive. Ordinary Summoners created their own styles: About 70 percent had contracts with nature spirits, but also made occasional contracts with mystical beasts. Minori had read a memo that said that the best parts, and the places where the Summoners showed their skill, were in the combinations and balance. She’d probably heard that from Shiroe.

However, Roe2 said she was a Necromancer to the core. All the servants and summoned creatures she’d contracted with were Phantom monsters, and she had no other types whatsoever. Since she was a “pure build,” her abilities weren’t very adaptable. Naotsugu had told Touya that the popularity of Necromancers had fallen after the Catastrophe. Apparently this was because the monsters looked scary and grotesque, and it was hard to communicate with them.

Looking at the wolf Serara had summoned, he thought, I guess there’s no help for that.

This white puppy-type monster was brave in a fight, of course, but it was also brimming with curiosity and a little bit spoiled, and it looked almost like a pet. Even Touya could tell that if you were going to be traveling around with something on a regular basis, fluffy guys like this would probably be more popular.

“Touya.”

“I see it, Rudy.”

Visibility wasn’t good on the mountain road; there were almost no places where it was possible to get a clear view straight ahead for any significant distance.

Instead, when they rounded projections in the rock face, areas that were three or four bends ahead would abruptly appear.

On the road about fifteen minutes ahead of the group’s location, they’d seen two stopped carts. They didn’t seem to be under attack from monsters, so they’d probably run into some sort of trouble. What do we do? Touya pondered.

From what he’d seen, the carts appeared to be heading west, the same direction they were going. Under ordinary circumstances, that wouldn’t be a problem: They could just follow the carts that were traveling in front of them. However, if those carts were stopped, it was another story. The road around here wasn’t wide enough for them to pass, so they couldn’t overtake them. With their Adventurer strength, he had a feeling that they could probably force a resolution somehow, but he still didn’t really have a handle on the situation.

“They seem to be stalled.”

“Yeah.”

“What is it? Is something up?”

They heard Roe2’s voice from the driver’s seat. She’d been sitting slumped down, saying she was bad with sunlight, and unlike Touya and Rundelhaus, she probably hadn’t seen that particular sight.

“There are carts stopped on the road, three or four bends farther on. They seem to have had some sort of trouble. There are two of them.”

“We might not be able to get past ’em, big sis Roe2.”

“Hm. I see. Well, I am the big sister here, so…” Roe2 puffed out her chest, but she didn’t seem to have any particularly good ideas. “In any case, let’s get over there first.”

“Yes, let’s.”

Minori agreed as well, and after heading farther down the road, the group encountered a caravan that was—as predicted—stuck.

“Say, would you like to buy a sword? It’s a real gem, Akiba-made. Equip levels ten to twenty.”

Those were the first words they heard from the caravan.

The merchant looked haggard, and there were dark circles under his eyes. He’d spoken to Touya, who was walking at the front of the group.

Touya was startled, but he promptly shook his head.

“Our levels are higher than that. We don’t use those swords. What’s the matter, Mr. Merchant?”

The merchant shook his head dully. He seemed to be the leader of the caravan, and when they looked, they saw three guards seated on wooden crates that had been set down on the road, slumped with exhaustion. Nearly all of the cargo had been unloaded. One of the two carts seemed to have a broken axle.

The cart Minori and the others were riding in stopped about twenty meters away. Turning back or changing direction would be easier if they weren’t too close. This part of the narrow mountain road was particularly constricted; there wasn’t room enough to pass, and if they took a wrong step, they’d go tumbling down a steep slope overgrown with slender trees.

“This is quite a sticky situation, isn’t it, Touya?”

“Yeah.”

This was only a guess, but if all that cargo was iron swords, the cart had been overloaded in the first place. There was a simple way to resolve the situation: Shove the broken cart down into the valley, load as much of the cargo as possible onto the other cart, dump the remaining cargo here, then move on. However, naturally, the merchant had bought all that cargo, and they guessed he probably hadn’t been able to bite the bullet and do it.

“We’ve already passed a day and a night here since the axle broke. If you find the merchant ill-mannered, please do forgive him.”

A woman with gentle features stepped down from the innermost cart.

Her hair was the pale brown of maiden grass plumes with sunlight shining through them, and she wore a bolero, a long skirt, and a large hat, all coordinated in pastel yellows, ranging from daisy to dandelion. She was lovely, with a tender gaze and softly curving eyebrows.

The air held the faint scent of hepatica flowers, and as he gazed at the beauty, Touya felt troubled and rather gloomy. His hunches tended to be right. This woman, who seemed to be pure kindness, would make him feel something very painful. He had no grounds for thinking this, but he knew.

“I am Dariella, a travel writer.”

The woman greeted them, delicately pinching up her skirt in a sweet gesture.

“You’re young, but you’re Adventurers, aren’t you? I’m afraid that spending yet another night here will be very hard on the merchants. Could you possibly carry a few crates for us, just to the fort of Boxroot? With your assistance, Adventurers, I believe you’ll be able to overtake us at the pass, a little farther down the road, and the merchants will be able to extricate themselves from this predicament.”

Dariella’s entreaty was exquisitely mild and graceful.

Although gentle, her words were persuasive, to the point where both Touya and Rundelhaus nodded involuntarily.

Under the circumstances, there really were no other options.

The two of them turned and headed back up the mountain road to discuss the matter with Minori and the others.

2

Apparently, the caravan cart’s axle had been broken by an abrupt dip in the road. There had been a protruding rock, thinly coated with dirt and hard to spot; the wheel had run up onto that rock, then immediately fallen down the drop and landed on another square stone. It had only been a fall of ten centimeters or so, and ordinarily, it wouldn’t have caused this sort of accident. However, the merchant had been greedy, and he’d loaded twenty-four crates of steel swords onto the cart. The jolt had been a violent one, and the wheel had broken.

The crates were heavy enough that it would have been hard for a Person of the Earth to lift even one of them, but Minori and the others were able to lift two or three at a time without trouble. When, carrying the crates, they’d made their way down the mountain track for about twenty minutes, they reached an area where the road widened, jutting out like an observation platform.

The carts would be able to take a break or pass each other here, and for now, it would probably be a good place to stack the crates.

Serara stayed there to prepare lunch, and about two hours later, Minori and the others finished carrying the crates. Although it was a pity, they’d pushed the cart with the broken axle down into the valley, and the merchant was on his way here with the undamaged cart. Apparently, he’d joined forces with the guards and used up all his energy and willpower, and was now taking a nap.

“He spent the entire night protecting his cargo on a mountain road where monsters might appear. It’s no wonder he’s exhausted,” the writer Dariella said, smiling softly at Minori.

She was a Person of the Earth, and it was difficult to tell her age. She was probably older than Minori, but it was impossible to imagine how much older. If they estimated slightly higher than her appearance suggested, she was probably about the same age as Marielle, but when she spoke, quite unexpectedly, she sometimes gave a sweet smile that made her seem to be Minori’s age after all.

“Are you the merchant’s wife, Miss Dariella?”

Dariella looked startled, then burst out laughing, her eyes half-closed in amusement.

“No, I’m not. I was on my way back home, and I simply had the merchant give me a ride.”

“I see. Minami, was it? That’s in the same direction as Ikoma.”

“Yes, it’s quite close. My house is in the mountains of Ikoma.”

“Oh-ho.”

Roe2 had approached and spoken to her, and Dariella, naturally, responded.

The merchant’s undamaged cart, the pile of crates, and the cart that belonged to Minori’s group were all lined up in an area that seemed to be a sort of lookout spot for the pass. It was surrounded by a wooden fence that didn’t seem very sturdy, and the open area itself seemed to jut out into empty space. But beyond it lay a breathtaking, panoramic view of the valley.

The merchant’s group really did seem to be exhausted. One of the guards was managing to sit up, leaning against the cargo, but the other members had climbed into the cart as if taking refuge and had fallen asleep. Serara tried to serve them soup, but they showed no sign of waking.

Minori’s group, meanwhile, had decided to take a late lunch here. The wind was still cold, but it was refreshing; it blew across the mountains, carrying a distinctive scent of greenery that it didn’t have in Akiba.

“What kind of soup is this?”

“It’s miso soup with potatoes and carrots.”

“And these long things are…?”

“They’re leeks.”

A short distance away, Minori was listening to Roe2 and Serara’s conversation and biting back a laugh.

The meal they ate at the lookout was reminiscent of box lunches, and it was fun. Isuzu perched on a fallen log, swinging her legs, while Rundelhaus sat next to her, stuffing his face with onigiri. Both looked cheerful and animated. Dariella, who’d joined Serara and Roe2 and was offering them pickles, also seemed to be in a mild mood.

“Touya, does your stomach hurt?”

“No, it’s fine.”

Touya was off by himself, and his mind seemed elsewhere. Worried, Minori had spoken to him, but her practical little brother had only answered her with a grin:

“What about you, Minori? You okay? You’re not missing Shiroe, are you?”

“Oh, honestly! I am not.”

“Well, that’s fine, then. Once we’re over the pass, we’ll be real close to our destination.”

“Yes, and besides, they’re wyverns, aren’t they? Shiroe said that they might appear in the mountains around here, too. The activity ranges for flying monsters have expanded quite a lot…”

“Yeah? I guess we’d better be careful, then.”

Abruptly, Touya glanced up, as if at the sky. Following his gaze, Minori saw it, too:

A group was approaching them.

And at the head of that group was a heavily equipped knight in full body armor.

There were about ten Adventurers in all, and there was something dismal about them. They were climbing up the road, and Minori’s group focused on them immediately. They’d come from the direction Minori and the others were going, the route that led down into the foothills.

Quickly, Minori checked their statuses.

A Samurai named Ishiijirou was in the lead. He was level 90 and was affiliated with the guild Plant Hwyaden. The fourteen members who followed him belonged to the same guild and were at roughly the same level.

At this point, there weren’t many player killers on the Yamato Server. At the very least, the act was all but unheard of in the vicinity of Akiba by now. However, on meeting a group this deep in the mountains, Minori and the others couldn’t hide their tension.

Casually, Rundelhaus went over to stand by Touya.

As he swept his mantle back, standing in a pose that made him look like a model, he was the very image of a young nobleman, but Minori knew he’d taken up that position so that he could shield Isuzu and Serara behind him.

The group walked at a steady pace, without hurrying.

If they were high-level, they must have had highly capable mounts, but not a single Adventurer was riding. The fourteen of them formed two rough lines, drawing nearer on the mountain track.

Since the road had opened up here, they wouldn’t be passing each other at a narrow place. All they had to do was watch them go. Although Minori thought it might be cowardly of her, the fact relieved her.

Yet, the four individuals in the center of the group were supporting an enormous object.

It looked like a portable Shinto shrine. The decorations on it seemed very European, but it was surrounded by a crosshatch framework of thick poles, and the four people to the front, back, and both sides were using those poles to carry it.

“That’s Boreas’ Moving Temple,” Dariella murmured softly.

“What’s that?” Roe2, the only member of the group who didn’t seem tense, asked indifferently.

“I haven’t seen it very often myself. It’s something the Odysseia Knights carry with them from place to place. I heard it’s a sacred item used by the Adventurers.”

“Hm.”

On hearing that, Isuzu and Serara looked dubious.

Minori hadn’t heard anything of the sort, either.

The same was true of the name “Odysseia Knights.” The mere sound of it provoked echoes of unease, as though a cold wind were blowing through. In any case, when she’d checked just now, the group had been Adventurers affiliated with Plant Hwyaden.

That meant the Odysseia Knights probably weren’t a guild.

In which case, what exactly were they? Minori didn’t know.

What she had heard before was the word Odysseia, “those who long for home.”

It was a group whose ultimate goal was returning to the old world. If that had been all, she could have sympathized; in a way, the group would have been expressing the feelings of all Adventurers. However, all the rumors she’d heard as she’d helped Shopping District 8 in Akiba’s guild center had seemed tinged with gloom.

The group came closer, until they were able to make out equipment and the features on individual faces. All the members’ equipment was clean and neat. They actually seemed a little too disciplined to Minori. None of them made small talk with each other, and they walked at a fixed pace. They were a group of Adventurers with unlimited physical strength, level 90 at that, but they seemed like a band of exhausted wraiths—even though there was nothing in their gestures to suggest it.

“They say Boreas’ Moving Temple resurrects all Adventurers.”

As a Person of the Earth, Dariella probably didn’t know.

Her words sounded somehow distant, as if she were speaking about someone else.

“Also, I couldn’t say whether it’s a side effect, but it’s said to disturb the voice of your heart. It must be quite important to the Adventurers.”

Minori and Serara exchanged glances.

No matter what she said, they’d never heard of the item before. They weren’t sure how to react. They didn’t really understand the meaning of what Dariella was saying, either. Minori felt as if something inside her was refusing to understand.

If they took her words at face value, that “moving temple” seemed to be something that acted like a temple and resurrected Adventurers who’d lost their lives near it: a substitute for a resurrection point, or rather, a movable resurrection point.

It did sound like a blessing that heightened Adventurer immortality, but on the other hand, it seemed terribly ominous.

Feeling uneasy, Minori whispered her little brother’s name into his back.

For the past few minutes, Touya had been standing at the very front of their group, drawing himself up to his full height and fixing steady eyes on the Odysseia Knights. As a result, his back was all Minori could see.

Touya didn’t respond.

However, as his twin, Minori could see tension in his back that was as great as when he was fighting.

When the procession reached the side of the open area, they advanced at an unchanged pace—as if searching for something, as if led by something—without paying any special attention to Minori and the others.

It felt as if a very long time had passed, but considered objectively, it had probably only been about ten minutes.

They caused no trouble. They simply passed by.

Even so, Minori was unable to quiet the whisper that spread through her heart.

3

A magic circle was cast about thirty meters ahead, laying track and warping nature in accordance with its established effect. It interfered with Dryads and Treants, creating a tunnel-shaped space through the dense forest. The surrounding trees twisted out of its way.

The magic array continued to generate the same gleam, advancing ever onward. This particular magic circle did more than simply interfere with the surrounding natural environment; it also acted as magical rails that generated a floating force field and aided movement.

With the help of levitating power, steel carriages advanced over the magical array. They were huge, box-shaped vehicles about eight meters long. The carriages were clad in rough armor, and even though they had windows in them, the glass was tinted dark, and it wasn’t possible to see inside.

The fourth car from the front was a two-story command post vehicle with a roof that could be opened, and in it, there was a woman.

Her voluptuous body, which had a carnivorous air about it, was encased in a military uniform, and her name was Mizufa Trude.

She was a high-ranking officer who served the Holy Empire of Westlande.

The lady general was watching the outside world through shielded glass. Her smile was sardonic, a mixture of obstinacy and thoughtlessness. Her beautiful legs, which she’d crossed at the thigh, showed that she was relaxed, and the fingertips of her right hand toyed with the hilt of her sword, caressing it.

Mizufa was satisfied with the moving train’s performance.

Without the chained rails, the train would have been too heavy to move at all, but with the help of the magic circle, it was able to advance over even this mountainous, uneven ground. Considered in combination with its defensive capabilities, even its unwieldy mass wasn’t a flaw.

The Adventurers wanted machines that could fly through the sky. They’d discarded this train as a useless toy, an attempt that had failed during development. However, for Mizufa and the other People of the Earth, even this discarded toy was a treasure more precious than gold. The overwhelming difference in technological power made Mizufa smile.

It wasn’t just technology. Magic, strength, inventiveness: The Adventurers had several times more of all these things than the People of the Earth did.

It was as if someone had decided that they were the protagonists of this world.

…And Mizufa and the others were supporting players.

She chuckled deep in her throat at the dark humor in it. She had no idea who’d done it, but they’d created quite a cruel farce.

“Progressing smoothly, ma’am.”

“What’s our location?”

“The same as before: the eastern Deep, Dark Woods.”

The steel carriages composed the heart of the army corps under Mizufa’s control, and they were currently carrying out a top secret mission: Operation Crimson Night. There weren’t many personnel involved in the maneuver. However, it was an important mission, and cutting-edge technology such as the train, Servant Summoning Gems and EXP Pots had been committed to it.

Its importance had doubtless been confirmed by the Ten-Seat Council as well, but Mizufa thought that was nowhere near enough. The Adventurers didn’t understand the meaning behind this operation in the slightest.

Nureha, the council’s capricious leader, had accompanied them on the maneuver in order to slip out of the castle, and it had encouraged the troops. This was something Mizufa herself had planned, and its effect had been enormous: Now, her soldiers were willing to fight under her orders to the point of giving up their lives and souls. In the Holy Empire of Westlande, Nureha was a princess who was the object of blind belief and fanaticism. Her charisma was beyond description.

Of course… No doubt that’s Lady Nureha’s whim.

Still, no matter how much belief was invested in her, Nureha was an Adventurer as well.

Maybe she’d tired of the march through the Deep, Dark Woods. She’d unexpectedly vanished from the train. Her ladies-in-waiting and menservants were frantic, but Nureha disappearing wasn’t all that unusual. Mizufa was calm.

In the first place, she’d wanted Nureha to encourage the troops and review the unit, things she’d already done; after that, she had no need for her. On the contrary: It would have been more of a nuisance if she’d stayed nearby, meddling in this and that. Letting Nureha disappear and allowing the situation to stand would probably have been a problem in and of itself, but one of the Ten-Seat Council members, “Imperial Guard” Loreil Dawn, was following her. It had been five days since they’d vanished; they’d probably met up again by now. To Mizufa, these were welcome circumstances.

The single remaining thorn was another Ten-Seat, Kazuhiko, who was riding in one of the rear cars.

This insolent stick-in-the-mud led his own private army, the Miburo, and poked his nose into every problem in Minami. Mizufa considered him an eyesore. He’d even used the name of the Ten-Seat Council to interfere with her military authority and had used his organization as a military police force. As its leader, Kazuhiko had insisted on confirming the safety of the Servant Summoning Gems and had planted himself in a rearward car.

Still, even that had already been factored in.

That was how much value there was in Crimson Night. Or rather, this entire sequence of unit reinforcement was a process that was absolutely vital if Mizufa was to achieve her ambition.

The lady laughed deeply.

The train wasn’t going all that fast. Even if they’d been traveling on an ordinary highway, their top speed was only about a third of what the latest four-horse cart could manage. However, on the other hand, that speed didn’t decrease even on unimproved ground. It would follow the undulations of the forest even into a ravine, but it was still faster than moving an army on foot.

This certainly fell short of the miraculous, sorcerous machine the Adventurers had wanted—one that could travel from Minami to Ezzo in ten hours—but it was extremely useful for all that. Compared to traveling through the sky, where it wasn’t possible to avoid being seen, in terms of secrecy, it could even be considered superior. At any rate, even the Adventurers hadn’t completed a flying machine yet. To her, this treasure of a train alone was enough.

The Mana Breeder Zeldus was said to have developed Jared Gan’s Mana Furnace, which had made the train practical on an industrial scale. The ancient technology of the Kunie, handed down through the House of Saimiya…the magic technology that had been born from this knowledge was, naturally, the core of Adventurer fortunes, but the People of the Earth had received a tiny share as well. This train was one example.

That the locomotive “advances over uneven ground” was easy to say, but it wasn’t limited to wilderness. In order to secure its course, the Circled Rails had the power to warp the surrounding forest. In other words, while it was slow, it made it possible to covertly transport troops across Yamato, which was thick with mountains and forests.

At present, Mizufa had ten armored cars under her command. Of these, four were particularly large. The fact that there weren’t many of them was worrisome, and she preferred her equipment more standardized, but there was really no help for that.

Adventurers were fickle, and they loved novelty. They weren’t interested in mass-producing things that were already technologically complete. They were constantly attempting to create new, different, powerful, superior items. Of course, this was doubtless a good attitude to take in terms of technological development, but for soldiers like Mizufa, it was irritating. In the field, it was better for both repairs and operation if equipment was standardized.

That said, since Mizufa had taken an invention that wasn’t wanted, she wasn’t about to be picky. She had enough authority to request minimal maintenance, and in a pinch, she knew she could make a variety of bribes work for her.

Adventurers were children, and when it came to their desires, they were weak.

“Report on the status of the Nightshade Servants.”

“Company One has returned. Companies Two and Three are being deployed to Redstone from Boxroot. Company Four is backup. Company Five is currently on duty patrolling the area. Companies Six and Seven are resting.”

“Ah-ha, that’s great. Advance, and stay on guard.”

Mizufa issued orders to the two Arcanemancers who were seated in the engineers’ seats two steps below.

“The Nightshade Servants sent ahead as scouts have been brought to a standstill by a moving body of water we believe to be the upper reaches of the Favorwell River.”

“Hm.” Mizufa glanced at a military map that was posted on the wall.

The car, which was rocking only slightly, held a variety of maps, documents, and files. Mizufa liked taking command in the field and letting her saber drink blood, but she was well aware that, now that she was a high-ranking general, these were her weapons as well.

“The Favorwell River, hm? This area is—”

She licked her shapely lips, narrowing her eyes as she skimmed the detailed notes that had been written in. The black triple claw marked wyvern habitats.

Their levels were ideal, and in addition, they were a perfect check on the neighboring residential areas.

A kaleidoscope of strategies ran through Mizufa’s mind. Each one was a blood-scented dream, as red as a spider lily.

The Adventurers might be good people, but Mizufa was under no obligation to imitate them. Either way, Yamato was headed for troubled times. The Holy Empire of Westlande was the only governing organization to have retained the bloodline of the Ancient Dynasty of Westlande into the present day.

Which made Eastal, the League of Free Cities, an enemy of the emperor.

Of course, Mizufa didn’t believe any of this. She just needed the pretext. It meant that this was now a world where a soldier like Mizufa could rise to the top through military exploits. As a rule, soldiers ranked low among the nobility of Westlande, which tended to favor terms like “elegance” and “singing and dancing.” She had to grab the few chances she could get.

In addition, Mizufa knew that her own merit bloomed on top of blood.

Or rather, she’d gotten drunk on blood. Even she no longer knew whether she wanted military achievements or the simple scent of blood.

“Wyverns, hm… The load’s too heavy for just the Servants, but… I see. Keh-heh-heh. The Odysseia Knights were around here, weren’t they?”

Silence filled the car.

“Issue subjugation orders to the Nightshade Servants. Notify the sergeants as well.”

The message was immediately relayed to the rearward armored carriages via the Directives Crystal.

On receiving the order, in the rear cars, more than a hundred People of the Earth donned black masks and fell into a false sleep in cramped beds that looked like lidless coffins. The Servant Summoning Gems that were linked to sockets on each bed glowed eerily.

These jewels summoned Nightshade Servants, which were projections of the casters’ minds.

In a way, this was the equivalent of giving People of the Earth additional bodies. As they lay here, in beds on the train, they acquired monster bodies that could move freely. Nightshade Servants manifested with levels that were equal to the levels of the caster who’d summoned them, but it wasn’t possible to break past the upper limit of 45.

To the Adventurers, the magic items were probably trivial, with laughable military potential. In fact, the Adventurers who’d provided them had given them up so easily they might as well have been joke items.

However, if you asked Mizufa, they were nothing of the sort. These items granted People of the Earth temporary immortality.

Even if the Nightshade Servants were defeated, the People of the Earth were lying in bed and took no damage. Not only that, but any experience points earned in battle went to the casters; in other words, to the People of the Earth.

You really couldn’t help but laugh. It really was ridiculous; an earth-shattering magic item.

“In ten minutes, start administering the EXP Potions.”

These potions doubled the efficiency with which experience points were acquired. Taken orally, they was inefficient. Injecting them directly probably made the burden greater, but it visibly increased their effect.

“Lord Kazuhiko is requesting that we stop all inhumane devices.”

“Nobody cares. That hypocrite… He’s an Adventurer; we’re People of the Earth. What does a man who can’t die know about war? Now is the time for us to sacrifice our lives. Isn’t that right?”

Mizufa smiled. It was a dark smile.

The lives that would be sacrificed didn’t belong to her. They were weapons that were needed in order to harvest more flowers.

“The advance unit has made contact with the enemy,” a tense operator communicated to them in a low voice.

Mizufa kept her cool, waiting for further reports. Then news of a wyvern sighting came in.

Tensing her lips, which had curved up involuntarily, Mizufa softly stroked the pommel of her sword.

“Advance unit, charge! Drive the wyverns out of the mountains! Tell them to get some distance, then focus on magic attacks. Chase them into the town. Then the Odysseia death-wish crowd will help with the hunt! Tell them it’s our time to really rake it in.”

They’d found an ideal hunting ground. In Adventurer terms, would this be called “power leveling”? Mizufa would have called it a military drill. In order to temper steel weapons, one had to sharpen the red-hot blades with blood.

“Send in the troops. Put Companies Six and Seven into the war zone, as well as Company Five on direct guard duty!”

“What should we do about guarding the train, ma’am?”

“Have Rondarg watch the area. Or, well, no, ask him to.”

“Contacting Lord Rondarg. —Speaking tube!”

The order was relayed to an Adventurer who was riding nearby, not in a cart, but on a Phantom Steed.

“…Even Rondarg gets called ‘Lord’ if he’s an Adventurer, hm?”

As Mizufa murmured, one of the communications officers turned to look up at her.

The lady general’s lips twisted. “No need to relay that. I’m just talking to myself.” She took a swallow of wine. The man was a failure who’d wandered down to them from Susukino, but it made him suitable for the dirty, low-ranking jobs. She almost felt like thanking him for it.

Rats have their own nesting places. She thought that was an apt phrase.

As Mizufa laughed, in high spirits, the secret units of the Holy Empire of Westlande were rapidly deployed to central Yamato under her command.

By curious coincidence, the territory of Mizufa’s longed-for Crimson Night included the town of Saphir, where Minori’s group was heading. However, at this point, not even Mizufa knew what that meant.

4

At the merchants’ request, Serara and the others had carried some of the cargo to the mountain fortress of Boxroot, then relinquished their loads and gone on ahead. Dariella, the Person of the Earth, rode in their cart with them.

Having lost one of their carts, the merchants no longer had the leeway to take her along, and while the highway was comparatively safe, this was true only for seasoned travelers and Adventurers, not People of the Earth women who were traveling alone.

It had been decided that they’d give her a ride to Saphir, their current destination.

Saphir was one of the places where Serara and the others had always meant to stop. It was a relatively prosperous city on the highway that ran west from Akiba, and they’d been planning to soothe the fatigue of their journey there since before their departure.

The cart traveled over stone-flagged ways covered with damp moss, slippery red clay tracks, and chilly ridge-top roads covered by arches of deep green. They went slowly. On mountain roads like this, the Pale Horse’s strength wasn’t much help. If they drove as fast as they could, they could easily end up with an accident on their hands.

Serara and the group advanced over the winding mountain road, traveling no faster than a person could walk.

Somewhere, she could hear a bird twittering. It sounded a little like a pipe, and as she walked, she strained her ears to listen. When she glanced at Minori, who was walking beside her, she seemed to be looking for the bird, too. She looked around and saw her wolf watching a bird that was about the size of a hot dog bun and had yellow lines on its blue wings. The bird called one more time.

Glad that she’d managed to find it, she tugged at Minori’s sleeve to tell her, but apparently the other girl had seen it as well. The pair looked at each other and smiled.

Thanks to that, Serara visibly relaxed.

The Odysseia Knights had been at the mountain fortress the group had passed, too.

From what Dariella said, they weren’t that unusual in this area of Yamato. They fought to protect People of the Earth villages and towns, risking their lives, and they were highly respected. The knights were a stern, vaguely dreary group, but they were courteous and high-minded, and their equipment was excellent. When she heard this, Serara thought it was probably true.

Still, the Odysseia Knights seemed to have made Minori, Touya, and the rest a little uncomfortable as well.

She knew this because ever since they’d crossed paths in the mountain pass, the atmosphere had been tense and prickly. Still, several hours had passed, and the mood had finally managed to relax. I’ll have to thank that blue bird, Serara thought.

Technically, according to their itinerary, they’d meant to spend a night at the mountain fortress, since the fort had lodging facilities for travelers.

However, the group had spent the night in that open area in the mountains, and they’d passed the fortress before noon, so they’d missed their chance.

“Minori,” Serara asked, “we’re camping again tonight, aren’t we?”

“I think so. There aren’t any good towns to stop at in this area.”

“What about tomorrow?”

“We should reach Fuji fairly early. When we do, let’s stay the night there.”

“Yes, let’s.”

Serara beamed as she agreed.

She’d confirmed that their itinerary was what she’d expected it to be, and she was happy that, as usual, Minori had given careful thought to that side of things as well.

At last the mountain road ended, and the way gradually grew wider. It still sloped, but gently, and the dense woods progressively became a mixed forest. The view from the road opened up, and they could see Mount Fuji clearly. Serara didn’t know what its name was in this other world, but it was Japan’s most famous mountain, snowcapped and very familiar.

“It’s Mount Fuji.”

“Ah, indeed it is. That’s Sacred Mount Fuji.”

Touya and Rundelhaus were talking loudly, as if in high spirits.

Serara was feeling vaguely excited, too. If you lived in Japan, you saw Mount Fuji at least once a month on the WebTV weather forecast, and as a matter of fact, when the weather was good, the mountain in the distance was visible from Serara’s city. It wasn’t unusual enough to make a fuss over, and come to think of it, this was another world, so it wasn’t the real Mount Fuji anyway.

Even so, it felt like a special mountain. Was it because they were Japanese? Serara didn’t really know, but when Isuzu said, “Now it feels like we’re traveling!” she had to agree. It really did feel like that.

In the early afternoon, they began to hear a low sound, as if the wind were blowing past them, and before long, they came out on the coast. It wasn’t a white, sandy beach. It was covered with pebbles about the size of the tip of Serara’s little finger, but even so, the blue-gray sea was there.

The coast sketched an extremely gentle curve that stretched in the direction their group was traveling.

The highway ran parallel to the coast, and there was no clear border between the road and the gravelly beach here. The only markers were the pine groves that dotted the area, providing erosion control.

The ocean was calm, and they saw several boats floating on it. They might have been People of the Earth fishermen.

“It looks like Choushi.”

“The coast seems rougher here, though.”

Serara and Minori compared impressions, then hastily glanced around for any sign of sahuagins.

Of course, fortunately, there were no such monsters here, and the two of them were left to smile at each other.

“Now that we’ve come this far, it’s only a little farther to Saphir,” Minori said. “Have you spent the night there before, Miss Dariella?”

“Yes, a few times. It is on my way home.”

“We’ll be there tomorrow, won’t we?” Minori continued. “If we hurry, I suppose we could reach it late tonight, but…”

At Minori’s words, Serara and the others all shook their heads in unison: No recklessness. That was another lesson their travels had taught them.

However, that did mean they’d need to camp today. Serara glanced at the sky, trying to gauge its mood. In its upper reaches, the wind looked strong, but the air was clear, and the weather didn’t seem likely to deteriorate. That meant camping wouldn’t be very difficult. Naturally, staying on the coast would be too scary; it would be better to go a bit farther inland, find a grove of trees, and stay there. From what she’d seen, there seemed to be lots of mixed groves that could serve as windbreaks.

That said, since the road they were traveling on was by the coast, it was flat and easy to walk on, and there were all sorts of likely-looking campsites. This made things tricky, and while they hesitated, evening might creep up on them.

“If that happens, I won’t be able to make dinner…”

Serara was thinking in circles.

She’d volunteered for dinner duty, but no matter what they did, cooking on the road was hard.

Before they’d left, Serara had stuck close to Nyanta and learned all sorts of things from him, but when it came time to put them into practice, she couldn’t manage half her ideal menu.

Outdoors, where she didn’t even have a flat cutting board, things never went as well for her as they did in a kitchen.

All the food she managed to make was dismal, and it made her feel bad.

As a matter of fact, her worry was fairly off base. Among People of the Earth, “travel rations” meant leaden, hard-baked bread, plus diluted wine or mead.

The soup or okonomiyaki Serara and the others made each time they camped belonged entirely to Adventurer culture, and they weren’t the norm in this world. In particular, the group had lived close to Captain Nyanta—a Chef who could make a success even of cooking outdoors—ever since the Catastrophe, and it had skewed their idea of what was normal. That was all there was to it.

“Pasta soup, maybe?”

Turning red, Serara murmured it quietly.

If she used vegetables, dried meat and the bottled soup base she’d purchased in Eat-Till-You-Drop Alley to make soup, then added some leaf-shaped pasta, the result would probably be filling. Then, she thought, if she attempted an apple and mayonnaise salad, although it would be a little sour, she might manage to make it presentable.

Still, she sighed. “I wonder if making just one dish looks lazy…”

“No, not at all. Hot soup is delicious.”

Beside her, Minori tried to encourage her.

Serara smiled, feeling a little wretched. Her desire to work as hard as Nyanta was so great that it would have taken several baseball stadiums to measure it; however, since their group didn’t have Magic Bags, they could only carry around limited amounts of ingredients and seasonings, and when cooking outside, it often took a lot of work to maintain the prep site and the heat source.

When she tried to do anything mildly complicated, Serara easily fell apart and failed. Since she had New Wife’s Apron with Nyanta Appliqué equipped, she couldn’t even excuse herself by saying that her subclass was Housekeeper.

“All of you get along so well.”

As Minori tried to cheer up the distressed Serara, Dariella spoke to them with a gentle expression.

“We’re friends, you see.”

“Yep, it’s ’cos we’re friends!”

In response to Minori’s prompt answer, Isuzu, who’d been walking up ahead, turned around and shouted back in agreement.

“Are you from the same guild?” Dariella asked.

“No. Mine is different,” Serara answered.

We are friends, though. The feeling made her puff out her chest with pride.

“Serara’s a member of the Crescent Moon League,” Minori offered. “We belong to a guild called Log Horizon.”

“Um. I’m not with a guild. I’m a traveling Vampanella.” From the driver’s seat, Roe2 put her two cents in as well.

“If you don’t mind, may I ask…? Why are you going to Minami?”

“We aren’t going there. We’re going partway, so we can hunt wyverns in the Redstone Mountains.” Touya was the one who answered Dariella’s question this time.

“My! Wyverns? Those are monsters that occasionally come down into the villages.”

“Are they, Minori?” Touya asked.

“Shiroe said that that sort of thing did happen sometimes.”

Serara tilted her head, thinking.

According to Minori’s drawing, wyverns seemed to be shaped like paper airplanes that had sprouted arms and legs. If they could fly, they certainly might come down to settled areas.

“We’re also on tour, I guess.”

It was Isuzu who’d spoken; at some point, she’d dropped back from the front of the group.

“On…tour?” Dariella asked.

“What’s that?” Roe2 added.

“Come to think of it, you haven’t seen us, either, have you, Roe2?” Fretting over how to explain it, Serara looked at Isuzu, asking for help.

Isuzu lifted the spear she was using as a walking stick, cradling it to her chest, then mimed strumming it the way she’d strum a lute and winked. “We’re going around performing.”

“Isuzu is a Bard, you know,” Serara said.

“Eh-heh-heh-heh. Mostly I’m just an amateur.”

“My, my. You play music?”

Dariella’s impressed cry seemed to have put Isuzu in a good mood; she took a few light, dancing steps and twirled.

“I may not look like it, but at Bloom Hall in Akiba, they call me a rock ’n’ roller.”

“A rock ’n’ roller?”

“Um, erm… In other words…”

“In other words?”

Roe2 sounded perplexed. “It means she’s cool, kind of,” Serara told her.

Minori had been biting back giggles for a little while, and at that, she burst out laughing. Serara protested desperately. Even she’d thought her explanation might have been a bit odd, so she couldn’t stop her cheeks from turning red.

Almost nobody said rock ’n’ roller anymore; it was Isuzu’s fault for using a word that was hard to explain. Puffing her cheeks out crossly, Serara stared at Isuzu, loading her look with certainty. However, it didn’t seem to get through to the other girl: She rolled her shoulders, strummed downward, and struck a pose with a “Rock ’n’ roll. ”

The only one to sympathize with Serara was Wolfie, who gamboled around her ankles.

“Musical activities, hm? Intriguing.”

“Yes, it sounds rather wonderful.”

Hearing Roe2’s and Dariella’s opinions seemed to please Isuzu.

“Okay, then, how about this? We’ll be playing in Saphir tomorrow night, so come and watch.”

“Playing?”

“Right, Minori? That’s okay, isn’t it?” Isuzu asked energetically.

They’d always planned to spend two nights in Saphir. This was because after they’d built up their energy in the town, they would finally head into the Redstone Mountains. When they’d crossed the Boxroot Pass, the terrain had been mountainous, but they’d still been able to get through on a highway meant for commercial traffic. In the Redstone Mountains, since they’d have to hunt, in the worst case, they’d have to trek through trackless wilderness.

“I, um, I sing with Isuzu, too.”

When Serara added that comment, Minori nodded, as if telling her not to worry:

“Yes, it’s fine. Let’s relax a little and take it easy in Saphir.”

As if those words had spurred them on, during the short interval before sunset, Serara and the others traveled just a little farther.

5

On the predicted night, the gig was fantastic.

Everything seemed to shine somehow. It was hot, and her heart beat fast, and it all seemed much too precious—even the stains on the wall and the homely innkeeper.

Isuzu’s voice was far more relaxed than usual, and An Die Freude was loyal to her.

Eighth notes paraded across a musical staff as uniformly as if they were wearing matching hats, joining the rhythm Touya drummed. Serara’s foot-pedaled porta-organ provided an astonishingly expansive accompaniment. This might have been because the white wolf cub was pushing on the pump as if its life depended on it. Even the number where she let Minori handle the lute was fun.

They made mistakes, but all of the errors melted away into a joy that was like a fizzing, carbonated sea. It was simply wonderful.

Roe2’s eyes were round, and she applauded until her hands ached. Dariella complimented them, looking thoughtful. Most of all, the People of the Earth who’d gathered at the inn applauded and cheered. As a Bard, she felt almost unbearably lucky.

Sighing with delight for the umpteenth time, Isuzu basked in a happiness so intense she thought she might burst and vanish.

“Oh, geez. Oh, geez!”

“Mademoiselle Isuzu, don’t struggle.”

“I’m not struggling.”

“Yes, yes, all right. I know.”

Rundelhaus had lent her his shoulder and helped her to the café terrace behind the inn. He sounded mildly exasperated, but even as he spoke, he lowered Isuzu’s skinny body into an oversized chair. For some reason, he looked even more effervescent than usual, but that was undoubtedly because that night’s gig had been incredible, and certainly not because she’d accidentally drunk something alcoholic.

It was already near midnight.

The moon had climbed high into the sky, and a cool wind was blowing.

This place—the Noble Mountain Snowdrop—was a big tavern, even for Saphir. Its facilities were complete, and it had a big terrace facing the road out front as well. Today’s show had been such a huge success that all the shutters had been thrown open, and crowds of guests had looked into the tavern from outside. That feverish atmosphere and commotion still lingered in the tavern like a glowing ember, and it reached Isuzu’s ears faintly.

That said, at this hour, the enthusiasm was ebbing. The sun had set more than five hours before, and Minori and Serara had run up white flags long ago and retired to their borrowed rooms.

Isuzu, reluctant to let it end, had plucked at her lute even after returning to the audience seating area, had drunk liquor the townsfolk had pressed on her, telling her it was their treat, and had been escorted out into the cool back garden.

“Here, Mademoiselle Isuzu.”

“Uh-huh.”

Isuzu, who was feeling a little repentant, took a swallow of the water Rundelhaus had drawn from the well. This village was located to the south of Sacred Mount Fuji, and at night in early March, its well water was so incredibly cold that it made her temples ache.

“Heh-heh-heh-heh. Heh-heh-heh-heh-heeeh.”

Feeling entertained, Isuzu slumped over onto the wooden table that had been set on the terrace. Her cheek was pressed against the wood, and it was chilly, but her body was flushed, and it felt nice. Rundelhaus had pulled over another chair and sat down, and having him nearby felt good, too.

Still sprawled over the table, she looked at the back garden.

Even if this was a town, unlike in Akiba, the houses weren’t crowded close together. Some structures made use of ruined buildings, but there weren’t many of them in Saphir; the Noble Mountain Snowdrop was about the only one.

Nearly all of the rest were wooden, single-story buildings, and ample space had been left between the houses. They had things that corresponded to yards and hedges, but in terms of scale, it seemed better to call most of them vegetable gardens and stands of mixed trees.

This back garden, no exception to the rule, held a kitchen garden and an untended space where wildflowers bloomed, a large well, a shed for livestock, and a grove of trees. The orange light that bled from the tavern’s open back door and the moonlight that streamed down from above gently illuminated the nocturnal landscape, which would otherwise have been pitch-black.

She wasn’t sleepy, but when she closed her eyes—just for a moment—the world seemed to spin, and she felt exhilarated. She didn’t feel the cold as much as she’d expected; wondering if it was because the wind wasn’t very strong, she opened her eyes a crack and saw Rundelhaus, raking his bangs up with his fingers as if they were a nuisance. He’d wrapped himself in his mantle, and he was sitting upwind from Isuzu.

Their eyes met, and Isuzu suddenly felt embarrassed.

Ordinarily, it was nothing at all, but every now and then, she’d start to feel this way. Still, it was probably just his puppy-dog magic. Pretending not to notice it, she lightly kicked Rundelhaus’s chair with her toes.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Oh, nothing.”

“Really?”

“Yep, mm-hm.”

“That was a good show today.”

After the gig—

An outdated phrase rose to her lips.

The party was over, it was after the gig, and all the heat that had been packed into Isuzu’s body was unraveling into the night. It was a melancholy, lonely feeling, but it wasn’t unpleasant. She’d been in high spirits for today’s show, but it had ended. All gigs ended. That was certainly sad, but this interval existed so that they could begin the next one.

She could hear the sound of Rundelhaus’s gentle breathing.

Isuzu’s belly was full. Both her stomach and her heart were full.

“‘Today too,’ you mean.”

“Yes, today too.”

There was a wry smile in Rundelhaus’s voice, and Isuzu closed her eyes again. She spread her arms out, hugging the table. Its size was almost the same as a wood bass. The thought naturally brought a smile to her face, and her fingertips moved involuntarily.

Because today had ended, tomorrow would come.

Because this gig was over, she’d be able to play the next one.

“You really do like instruments, don’t you, Mademoiselle Isuzu?”

“I love ’em.”

“And yet you won’t become a professional musician? You were very insistent about this tour, you know.”

“Yes, that’s because…”

Isuzu sat up, gave a satisfied sigh, and looked at Rundelhaus.

The glow from the tavern filtered through the window, edging his golden hair with light.

Facing her companion, who looked puzzled, Isuzu began to speak, slowly.

“It’s my dad. I might have told you already, but he’s a pro musician. It’s something called a studio musician; I’m not sure how to explain it… Um, when it comes to playing instruments, he’s a professional among professionals. That sounds about right. He performs at a place where they record sound, and he helps all sorts of people do things with music.”

“Hm. Then your excellent skills must be due to your father’s blood and training.”

“Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha! Noooo, it’s nothing like that. My dad is, umm, a free spirit. A rock ’n’ roller. He’s really cool. He’s got long hair, and he wears a leather jacket. His legs are thin, too! He lives in a town that’s sort of out in the country now, but even so, he’s pretty famous. He has groupies, too—er, fans from a long time ago.”

Isuzu took another swallow of water.

This wasn’t something she normally talked about. My father is a musician. It sounded like something out of a girls’ manga, but she didn’t think it was really such a good thing. After all, it meant that her father was practically unemployed. She’d even gotten teased about it when she was little. Just being different from the people around you created friction. That had been common sense, at least in the world where Isuzu was born and raised.

However, in this world, it was the night of a gig, a night with all sorts of secrets inside it, and her listener was the other-dimensional puppy dog she was so proud of. She’d always had these thoughts, and there wasn’t a single reason for her to hold them back now.

“When I was a kid, my dad bragged to me all the time. I’m not sure what you’d call them—heroic exploits from when he was younger, maybe? Stories about when he worked part-time and bought a junker van, loaded his instruments into it and went on tour. See, my dad toured, too. He said he did it all the time after high school. He was in a band as a kid, and when he got out of school, he worked part-time and went long distances to live music venues, and when he ran out of money, he’d pick up another part-time job. He said he based himself in Tokyo and traveled around to all sorts of places.”

“The way we’re doing now?”

“Yep, exactly! The way we’re doing now!”

It had been something Isuzu had longed for when she was a child. He’d seemed to be a genuine hero.

“Back before he was famous, even when he played gigs, they didn’t pay very much, so he said he had to work a lot of part-time jobs.”

“What are those?”

“Um, things like working at a restaurant or being a security guard.”

“Hm.”

“Still, if he was going to tour, he’d need to take a lot of time off from those jobs, so in the end, he had to quit them. He’d quit his job and go traveling.”

“A desperate endeavor, then.”

“Huh?”

Was that what it had been? Somehow, when Rundelhaus put it that way, it sounded like a really aggressive act, something cool. Isuzu wanted to say that it hadn’t been like that. Her father wasn’t anything that cool… However, it was hard to deny that it had been a desperate endeavor.

Isuzu shrugged her shoulders and went on.

“I swear, all the stories my dad told were dumb. When I was in grade school, he’d tell me about how popular he was when he was young, and that he’d had tons of girlfriends. He said every time he went to a show venue, he’d make a cool, long-legged girlfriend. He said he drank and got really rowdy, and that he sped down roads at night to go eat ramen. He even bragged about how poor he was. He told me how he borrowed money and bought a Fender, then broke it two weeks later and went berserk. And how he went to the beach with his friends, and they took their car down onto the sand and drove around, trying to look cool, and then it stalled and they had big problems. And how they bought instant oden at the convenience store and ate it under a bridge while they were sheltering from the rain—”

Isuzu was sure she’d never forget the look on her father’s face as he told her those stories.

He’d worn a proud, mischievous smirk, and she’d said, “You’re creepy, go away,” and shoved him. In truth, though, she’d been incredibly jealous.

Her father had looked happy. If you put it into words, you probably would have ended up with the trite expression “an exceptional adolescence.” He’d spent his youth his way, and even now, he was running at its leading edge. To Isuzu, a very average high school girl, “heroic exploits” really was the only thing to call these old stories.

They were fairy tales that were out of her reach.

“Those sound like entertaining tales,” Rundelhaus said.

“No. Absolutely not! I’m telling you how dumb my dad was!”

She was embarrassed, so she denied it, but even she knew.

Isuzu was bragging.

Her father was frivolous, long-haired, thoughtless, and mean, and she didn’t want to admit it, but she was proud of him.

“He didn’t have much money, so he’d play at live music venues—um, in other words, at taverns like this one. He said they’d play at taverns and get pocket money, and sometimes they’d let them sleep on the dressing room floor. Unlike us, the group he traveled with was all guys, so they’d fight at the drop of a hat. I mean… I hear they’d compare the types of girls they liked, then fight over that. Idiots, right? Keh-heh-heh-heh-heh! Still, they couldn’t play the next gig like that, so they’d make up, get in the van…in the cart, I mean, then head for the next town.”

“Mm-hmm.”

Rundelhaus gave a small nod, just to show that he was listening. Reassured, Isuzu began to talk about her father again.

“My dad went around like that, being a rock ’n’ roller, and then he made a major label debut.”

“What’s a major label debut?”

“It’s when a record company distributes your music… Uh. Um…in other words, uh…”

Isuzu groped for the words to explain, but she couldn’t find them, so she just skipped over that part.

“In other words, he became a famous musician. So famous that they played songs by my dad’s band all over town.”

I’m not lying, am I? Isuzu inspected her explanation.

In a world where goblins screeched and brandished axes, it was really hard to explain record companies and online stores and music downloads. Isuzu wasn’t Minori.

Still, she thought the nuance had probably gotten across.

Isuzu’s father was a musician.

No matter what was said, or who said it, Isuzu knew that.

“He’s amazing, then.”

“He really is. Pretty amazing. Even if he doesn’t look like it. The thing is, though…”

The pale moonlight and the perfectly clear night enfolded Isuzu and Rundelhaus.

“Major label debuts are awesome, but in the world where we lived, there are a lot of amazing people. I think there are more than a hundred major debuts every year. Even if you manage to get famous, it’s not enough. Lots of people just stop selling. That’s what happened to my dad.”

She almost sighed, but managed not to.

“That’s why he became a studio musician. It wasn’t the major label route, but he probably wanted to play forever. I never asked him, but I think that’s what it was.”

Even her wild father, bursting with talent, hadn’t been able to stay in the spotlight. She hadn’t seen any bitterness in his profile, but the situation had seemed unbearably bitter to Isuzu. If her father hadn’t been able to do something, there was no way Isuzu could manage it.

“I still think your father’s blood runs in your veins, Mademoiselle Isuzu, and you should make your major debut.”

“No, I’m telling you, that’s not it. Major debuts are for pros.”

“But when I listened to you sing at today’s gig, I was happy. Your songs seemed even more gentle and resonant than usual. Aren’t you happy when you sing?”

“Well, but that’s…”

The words wouldn’t come.

“Listen, that just isn’t me. I mean, yes, of course I like my lute. I love it. I love singing, too. I just don’t think you can compare me with my dad. He’s the kind of pervert who can say he’d sleep with his guitar… Besides, I’m not talented.”

“……”

“Dad told me I wasn’t.”

The air that hung around Rundelhaus seemed to reproach her. She knew what he wanted to say: It probably looked as if she was running away. Still, Isuzu had a point, too: You couldn’t make it in music if you were ordinary. It took more than yearning to become a professional.

I think even people with talent have to work hard just to make it to the starting line. Even Dad couldn’t become a star.

Music was a fantastic thing, but the way was long and treacherous. Isuzu had heard her father suffer and complain. It wasn’t the sort of thing she could promise easily.

“But look, I do love music.”

Isuzu intentionally made her voice cheerful, trying to change the mood by force.

“Indeed.”

“Today was fun, yeah? Everyone really seemed to like it, too. Those old guys actually treated me to things, even though I’m just, you know, me. I got so many compliments I swear my head’s going to swell up.”

“I love your songs, too, Mademoiselle Isuzu.”

“You were the first one who ever said that. That’s what made me start wanting to perform in front of everybody, and what let me suggest this tour. I’m really nothing special, but being able to play like this is—”

“The music you play is wonderful. We know that. All of us. You’re the one who doesn’t understand.”

Rundelhaus interrupted Isuzu. A hint of frustration appeared on his face.

When his expression was tense like that, he seemed far more mature than usual.

It frightened Isuzu. She tried to gloss it over with an “Oh, come on, Rudy. You’re just being nice,” but as she started to open her mouth, Rundelhaus stopped it with a fingertip.

“Instruments, songs, performing… Sounds, scales—the forty-two are the forty-two.”

“Huh?”

“The forty-two.”

“Huh?”

“Music: The forty-two.”

“What’s the matter, Rudy?”

A significant amount of time passed. Then Rundelhaus gave a smile that was far too gentle, one that seemed to lodge right in the center of Isuzu’s heart. Quietly, he took his fingertip away, but Isuzu didn’t notice. All she could do was gaze at his face.

“Since becoming an Adventurer, I’ve learned several things. Adventurers have the divine protection of words, don’t you? You don’t speak the language of the People of the Earth. You merely hear the words and understand their meaning, and you respond in words the People of the Earth can understand. That is a magical power. The divine protection of translation.”

Isuzu nodded, although she didn’t get it.

She had no idea what Rundelhaus was trying to tell her.

“In the language of the People of the Earth, ‘music’ and ‘the forty-two’ are the same thing.”

He was probably talking about the automatic translation function. She understood that, but she didn’t know what he was attempting to say. Feeling uneasy, Isuzu tilted her head, puzzled.

“To us, ‘the forty-two’ is all the music there is. There are no other songs in this world. Our ancestors didn’t write any more of them, and we aren’t able to write new ones… Listen, Isuzu. The music you sing, all the songs you shout out so cheerfully…they’re precious to us. They make us happy, and we really, truly love them.”