1

While Marielle shielded the newbie Adventurers and Shouryuu kicked up waves, bellowing a challenge to the sahuagins, another battle was beginning in the mountains at the center of the Zantleaf Peninsula.

The enemy was goblins.

There was no telling where they’d sprung from, but a significant number of small, squad-sized groups seemed to be prowling through the forest.

Naotsugu’s group was in the square outside Forest Ragranda, and by now they’d beaten back a dozen or so attacks. There were thirteen players gathered in the square: the five members of Minori’s party and the six members of the advanced party, plus Naotsugu and Lezarik, the Cleric sent by the Knights of the Black Sword.

They had thought the first attack was an accidental encounter with rogue goblins.

After a few more skirmishes, however, Naotsugu had changed his mind, deciding their party must have stumbled into the path of a small traveling tribe. However, when the number of encounters reached six, the doubt had grown too large to ignore.

At that point, Nyanta had gone into the mountains to reconnoiter.

While awaiting his return, thirteen people had broken camp and were keeping a wary eye on the surrounding area.

As far as enemies went, in terms of fighting power, a single goblin wasn’t much of a threat. Of course, the race had prodigious strength in numbers and plentiful troop variations, so when considered as an army, they were formidable. However, goblins’ core level range was only 10 to 20. In other words, when viewed as individuals, even Minori and the other newbies—whose levels were only around 25—could easily handle them.

As a result, the newbies were relatively calm as they worked the campsite, even though the situation was potentially murky. Leaving items earmarked for the big tent to Naotsugu and Lezarik (who had mass-reducing bags), the newbies began to pack the sundry items around them into ready-made rucksacks.

“Something smells fishy.”

“Hm?”

Naotsugu had spoken as he was taking down the tent, and Lezarik, right next to him, responded with a question.

“I don’t like this. Not one bit. Vague bad-feeling city.”

“But they’re just goblins.”

From Lezarik’s expression, he thought he was making a big deal over nothing. Even Lezarik, a healer, could put down ten or twenty goblins on his own.

“Yeah, but the goblin encounter rate out here in the mountains shouldn’t be this high, should it?”

“Well…”

Naotsugu shot a glance at the newbs to check on them. They’d split up, putting saddlebags on the horses and extinguishing the fire. “Plus, we’ve got those guys with us now. If something happens, I’ve got the feeling it’s gonna blow up big-time.”

“Hmm…”

Lezarik was also a veteran player—sent from the Knights of the Black Sword, one of Akiba’s distinguished large guilds—and he didn’t laugh off Naotsugu’s words. He seemed to be considering something.

The bushes rustled, ejecting a thin shadow into the square.

A green corduroy jacket. A too-thin, cat-headed gentleman wearing a necktie: It was Nyanta. His eyes were narrowed, as usual, but the somewhat hard expression on his face wasn’t usual at all. He went over to Naotsugu and Lezarik.

“What’s up?”

“Mm.”

Nyanta’s attitude naturally drew Naotsugu and Lezarik—the leaders—to him.

The newbies were continuing to strike the camp as instructed, and they didn’t seem to have noticed that Nyanta was back yet.

“Things don’t feel good. It’s a large-scale march: An army of at least several thousand goblins is passing through one ridge over. It’s impossible to tell just how many of them there really are.”

At Nyanta’s words, all at once, Lezarik’s face grew tense.

There had been cases of goblins conducting military operations in the past. In fact, goblins were one of the varieties of demihuman that enjoyed military action, and they plundered repeatedly in groups. However, goblins rarely marched by the thousands over long distances.

Goblin intelligence was low, and their basic approach consisted of spreading a ring of plunder over nearby towns and villages like the plague.

Something was odd here. Something wasn’t right. The instincts of the three veteran players had picked up on this accurately, and as a result, their expressions were tense.

“Tch! Well, there’s no help for it.”

Naotsugu nodded once, as though he’d vaguely suspected this. “Did you call it in?” he asked Nyanta.

“I reported it to Shiroecchi. However, I can’t reach Miss Marielle or Shouryuu.”

“You can’t?”

“They may be napping, or busy fighting, or perhaps they’re both involved in other telechats at the moment. I don’t know which it is.”

Nyanta’s words were calm, but much of his usual composure was missing.

He had been joking about the napping, and although that might have been possible with Marielle, it was hard to imagine with Shouryuu. Upon hearing his concerns, Lezarik’s gaze suddenly went distant, as if he was looking at something far away. It was the expression unique to telechats.

Noticing this, Naotsugu and Nyanta stopped talking and waited, but Lezarik’s response was also, “No, it’s no good. There should be Knights of the Black Sword at the coast as well, but I can’t reach them.”

Neither Naotsugu nor Nyanta had any other Crescent Moon League members registered to their friend lists. …Or rather, Serara was on Nyanta’s list, but she was right there with them, working to dismantle the camp.

Naotsugu and the others had gone out with the junior members many times before, but the only one they’d needed to be able to contact had been Shouryuu, and after that they’d been able to handle everything through regular conversation. This might have been carelessness on their part.

The three of them let their imaginations run.

There were all sorts of possibilities, and they had reason to assume the worst. However, whatever the case, they couldn’t rush headlong to the coast. Doing that would mean leaving their own newbies behind.

Even if each individual goblin was low level, apparently there was a horde of at least several thousand out there, just one peak away. Even if they didn’t cross the ridge, no doubt there were squads of goblins lurking in the nearby forest.

They didn’t dare leave new players here in the mountains.

“So how did the goblins look?”

“The ones mewving through the valley are a large-scale plunder tribe. It looked as if the woods themselves had begun to walk. I’ve never seen an army of that size before. I saw hobgoblins and trolls as well—it looked like a full-fledged invasion brigade, complete with magical beast mewnits. They seemed to be traveling west-southwest, but that isn’t certain, so I can’t say…”

“Then the ones we’ve been encountering are advance scout squads?”

Abruptly, Minori’s voice spoke.

When Naotsugu turned, there stood Touya, Minori, and the other three members of the beginner party. All wore rigid, tense expressions: Apparently they’d overheard the conversation.

“Several thousand… One ridge over?”

Rundelhaus lifted his eyes, as if he were looking through the trees of the forest. His face held not fear, but determination.

During the brief moment when the three leaders were speechless, Serara began to speak in a clear voice.

“I took care of the newbies at the Crescent Moon League. So, um, you see… I have all of them registered to my friend list. Right? You do, too, don’t you, Isuzu?”

“Y-yes. Of course.”

“Do you think you could contact them and find out what the situation is?”

Before Naotsugu could speak, the two had agreed to Minori’s request and opened their friend lists. Seeing this, Naotsugu scratched at his head, laughing at his own carelessness. He’d forgotten that Serara and Isuzu, members of the Crescent Moon League themselves, would have an easier time making contact with others in it.

When he thought about it, it was completely obvious.

And now that things had come to this, there was no point in hiding anything: If they were returning to the camp, they’d have to tell everyone about it in any case. Naotsugu and Lezarik called over the remaining six members of the advance party and briefly explained the situation.

Anyway, they’d been planning to strike camp and return to the abandoned school after noon; they couldn’t very well work on capturing the dungeon when they were surrounded by an army of goblins. Their current issues were choosing a route to travel by, and discovering the state of the other training units that were scattered across the area.

Serara and Isuzu added their voices to the conversation.

According to the information the two of them had gathered, a fierce running battle was in progress along the coast. Blue Goblins had come up out of the sea, and their group was heading toward the abandoned school in a traveling formation, with the high-level leaders bringing up the rear.

“Blue gobs? …Tch! Wait, sahuagins?! What the heck?!” Naotsugu exclaimed.

Sahuagins were minor monsters, and he’d never heard of any being sighted on the peninsula. That particular monster appeared in the warmer areas farther south.

“A coincidence…perhaps?”

Naturally, Lezarik was asking about the connection between the goblins and the sahuagins. Since none of the members had the answer to that question, it was met with silence. However, it was probably too optimistic to explain away the two armies’ almost simultaneous appearance as coincidence.

At present, it didn’t seem as though heading for the abandoned school was necessarily the best choice. If worse came to worst, they might find themselves surrounded by goblins and sahuagins.

Still, yeah, I guess if it comes right down to it, we can all just use Call of Home, Naotsugu thought, steadfastly convinced.

Chanting Call of Home would get them back to Akiba easily, but once they were back, getting to Zantleaf again would require a journey of several days. That made it an option best kept as a last resort.

He also thought it would be dangerous to carelessly take Minori and the other newbies back to the abandoned school.

However, if Marielle’s group was heading back to the school, the most important thing was to meet up with them somehow, call roll, and make sure all the summer camp participants were safe.

Nyanta and Lezarik agreed with that plan.

Once the assembled had made up their minds, the rest happened quickly.

Since there was no telling when the goblin army might turn up, it was pointless to wait around where they were.

According to what Nyanta had said, there were small detachments of goblin scouts scattered through the surrounding forest over a fairly wide range. As that was the case, they’d probably find themselves in a few battles, but it would probably be safer to just go ahead and force their way through.

“Okay then, we’re about to head back to the abandoned school camp. Nyanta, Lezarik, and I will be in the lead as a party of three. Yes, I said ‘three,’ but we’re not about to let a bunch of newbies like you show us up, so don’t you worry. Got it? Awright! The advanced party’s gonna bring up the rear. Do a good, solid job, guys. Keep a close eye on what’s behind you, but don’t let the distance between us get too big. The beginner party is at the center of the formation. If we get into a battle up at the front, you’re in charge of providing backup. Don’t let your guard down just because you’re in the middle!!”

The group mounted their horses, just as Naotsugu had instructed.

They were planning to cut across the hilly area at the center of the Zantleaf region.

This’ll probably be a bit of a war, Naotsugu thought to himself, uneasily.

Zantleaf, surrounded by goblins and sahuagins.

If that was in fact the case, his dependable friends would take steps to cope with the enemy’s movements. He had his own job to do.

Naotsugu put his hand on his mount’s neck and started down the road through the forest.

2

Go back in time slightly.

Shiroe had learned of the ominous presence that had begun to blanket the Zantleaf Peninsula when Naotsugu had contacted him, but the Lords’ Council, which was composed of People of the Earth, had received news of the goblin attack even earlier.

Adventurers were able to use the telechat function to communicate with distant companions instantly, but the People of the Earth also had a means of long-distance communication only they could use.

It was a long-distance conversation spell that used crystal balls.

When Elder Tales was a game, the People of the Earth had been non-player characters, known colloquially as NPCs. They’d only been part of the game’s background, and so, unlike the Adventurers, they hadn’t had any combat abilities or convenient functions supported by the game system.

However, on the other hand, Elder Tales was a story, and in order to render their side of it, it had been stated that the People of the Earth could use various types of magic.

These included, for example, secret arts used to make magic items, and teleportation spells to allow them to escape from the player-protagonists.

It had been mere background information, with no kind of in-depth clarification of their abilities whatsoever, but ever since the Catastrophe, in this other world, such information had morphed into a proper system of magic.

One such type of this magic was a long-distance communication spell that utilized crystal balls.

In certain instances, this sort of communication technique could be a far more powerful weapon than a band of knights. The lords of the League of Free Cities understood this, and each kept a dedicated magician in his territory at all times.

The plundering goblin tribe was traveling through the mountains, and it didn’t invade the fortified cities where the lords lived. The only casualties were unlucky travelers and extremely tiny settlements in the mountains.

The first one to register the existence of the goblin army was Marquis Kilivar, the governor of Tsukuba. However, since the goblins were marching through the mountains, their discovery was delayed, and he got the message about the time the goblins’ advance units reached Zantleaf.

The information had been brought to him the previous evening.

The magician who had been left in charge of the town of Tsukuba during his lord’s absence had decided that this was a state of emergency, and had contacted Marquis Kilivar immediately. After a moment’s hesitation, Marquis Kilivar sounded out Duke Sergiad about convening an extraordinary Lords’ Council. Kilivar’s personal pride as a marquis was a small thing in comparison with this incident, and he sought help from the rest of the lords.

That was how the People of the Earth’s conference had begun, but naturally, it grew complicated. A terrifyingly large army of goblins… It was an incident serious enough to endanger their respective rules.

The lords were at their wits’ end, and the conference continued all through the night.

Why weren’t Krusty and the other Adventurers called to this conference? There were several reasons.

First, Krusty and the Round Table Council weren’t yet formal members of the Lords’ Council of Eastal.

Of course they’d determined to hold a decoration ceremony at some point during the conference period and had set a course of accepting them as formal members. However, because each lord hoped to conduct plenty of negotiations beforehand, the award ceremony was scheduled to be held during the last half of the period. Since the ceremony hadn’t yet been held, at present they weren’t formal members.

Second, some members of the Lords’ Council hadn’t managed to resolve their unease regarding the Round Table Council, and the emotional discomfort remained. A few of them even pointed out, absurdly, that the goblin invasion itself might be an Adventurer conspiracy.

Behind such statements lay the fact that, although the goblin tribes of the Ouu Mountains had been a source of headaches for the people who lived in those mountains for a very long time, they hadn’t launched an invasion that had taken them outside the mountains in the past eighty years. They were one of the mountains’ dangers, true, and local residents found them inconvenient, but they weren’t a serious problem for those who lived down in the foothills.

The goblins had been “sealed” in the Mountains of Ouu this way because the Adventurers regularly attacked them, paring away their fighting strength.

Because the lords of the areas near the Ouu Mountains understood the importance of letting the Adventurers strip the goblins of their military power, they paid significant sums in bounties every year.

When Elder Tales was a game, quest requests such as “Eradicate the goblins,” “Attack a goblin settlement,” and “Take back goods from the goblin tribe” had been made through the town’s taverns, and Adventurers had headed into the mountains, drawn by the rewards.

However, that hadn’t happened this year. The Adventurers hadn’t touched a single one of the requests involving the goblin tribes of the Ouu Mountains. Consequently, the League of Free Cities—and in particular the lords whose territories bordered the Ouu Mountains—had started to advance their conspiracy theory: That the invasion itself was a plot by the Adventurers.

Of course, the reality was different.

Since the event the People of the Earth called the May Incident and the Adventurers called the Catastrophe, the world had been going through inexorable changes. The Adventurers had been pressed to the limit in their efforts to adapt to these changes, and they hadn’t had time for other things. In the process, it was no wonder that various quests had been left relatively untouched compared to when this had been a game.

The explanation that the Adventurers had left the goblins to their own devices not out of malice but because they’d prioritized coping with some sort of trouble, was widely shared even among the People of the Earth. However, it was also true that lords whose territories were being assaulted by a horde were emotionally unable to let this explanation satisfy them.

And so—

“It really is true, then?”

“Yes. The Knights of Izumo…are gone.”

“They don’t exist? Do you mean to say they’ve been annihilated?!”

“We don’t even know whether they’ve been annihilated or not. No corpses or traces of battle have been found. They’ve simply disappeared. ‘Spirited away’ might be the best way to describe it.”

This was an affirmed fact.

They were still waiting impatiently for additional information regarding the Knights of Izumo, however.

The Knights were one of the Thirteen Global Chivalric Orders. They were the guardians of the world, the ultimate military force created by the good human races. They were Ancients, mysterious superhumans that had been created through an old magic now lost; they lay dormant in the bloodlines of the People of the Earth, and their births, when they occurred, seemed miraculous.

The Thirteen Global Chivalric Orders were bands of heroes composed entirely of these Ancients.

Because they were the guardians of mankind, they took no part in conflicts between lords or other People of the Earth. They also wouldn’t put in appearances for incidents along the lines of demihumans attacking a village. However, during large-scale disasters or mass invasions by demihumans, they’d sally forth as they always had, nearly without exception, protecting the human world.

It was these heroes, the Knights of Izumo, who had vanished.

The fact had come to light a month after the May Incident, but because the matter was so serious, information about it had been strictly regulated in the League of Free Cities. At first, a conspiracy of the Ancient Dynasty of Westlande had been suspected in the Knights’ disappearance, but the miniscule amount of information that trickled in from their spies had made it clear that the Ancient Dynasty also seemed upset by the incident.

The Knights of Izumo were the only one of the Thirteen Global Chivalric Orders specifically known to the lords. No doubt the other twelve Orders were acting as guardians of the world in other countries, but at the very least, none of them had ever appeared in Yamato.

And now, the Knights of Izumo were gone.

All of the several fortresses they’d used as their bases of operation were deserted. The scouts had reported that they’d found no sign of combat, and that it hadn’t felt as if there’d been preparations for a hasty expedition, either.

They’d simply stepped out for a walk one fine day and had failed to return.

That was the impression they’d been given by the sense of casual, everyday routine that had remained there, crystallized.

“But…then…in that case…”

“Hmm…”

Several lords clawed at their heads.

Goblin demihumans. A huge tribe, well over ten thousand strong. Of course, these numbers wouldn’t be impossible to beat back, provided they camped on the plains, and all the armies of the League of Free Cities went into battle against them.

However, the Goblins were currently heading south through the mountains, and there was no telling where they’d strike. It might be the town of Hitachi or the town of Fourbridge, or they might turn back and mount an attack on the castle town of Urumiya.

Like many other towns belonging to Eastal, these were fortified cities with high castle walls that guarded the lords’ mansions and the city streets alike. While it depended on the number of soldiers and townspeople, if they thoroughly concentrated on defense, they could probably protect themselves from most enemies. However, that said, when asked whether a city could defend itself from more than ten thousand goblins on its own, they had no ready answer. In the first place, there was the problem of supplies, and more than anything, their spirits would probably be broken.

They’d been counting on the Knights of Izumo.

The town that was currently in the most painful position was Tsukuba.

The goblin plunder tribe that had been sighted was believed to be in the mountains just a few dozen kilometers away from Tsukuba, as the crow flies.

The other human towns that were likely goblin destinations were, as stated earlier, Hitachi, Fourbridge, the castle town of Urumiya, and an unfortified fishing town with no lord: the village of Choushi.

Or perhaps—

“Or perhaps Maihama, hm?” Duke Sergiad muttered, putting a strong, bony hand to his chin.

From where they were, in the Ancient Court of Eternal Ice, Maihama was located beyond the ruined city of Eastal, toward Zantleaf. In the worst-case scenario, from the position where they’d been sighted, the goblins would be able to attack it in two or three days’ time.

The upshot was that the goblin army’s invasion was cutting deep into the throat of the League of Free Cities.

No, from the League of Free Cities’ perspective, they’d actually allowed them to invade that far.

The thorn was already in a place where it would be impossible to remove without bloodshed. The poison was on the verge of rotting the areas close to the League’s heart.

A stifled hush hung over the Council.

It was a very bitter silence.

The conference had begun late at night, and as they exchanged heavy words, it continued into the small hours. Considered rationally, it was already far too late to be holding conferences. The enemy was a few days away from a large number of cities.

Now that it had come to this, there was nothing for it: The lords of Eastal, the League of Free Cities, would have to join forces, send their troops out together, and surround and destroy the goblin army.

However, doing so would require an astronomical number of sacrifices. Cavalry units would be nearly useless in the mountains and forests, where visibility was bad. Moreover, the heavy cavalry, whose main combat method was charging, would be powerless.

It would also be difficult to fight as a large group. The lords’ allied forces would be fragmented, and many of their troops would be lost in battle with the goblin tribe. The mountains were perfect for lurking and hiding, and it was possible that, even after all that, they’d still let the goblin tribe escape. There was no guarantee that the lords’ forces would be able to annihilate them.

In that case, would it be all right if all the lords simply returned to their territories and confined themselves to their castles? The answer was no.

Of course, most of the cities would be able to withstand sieges that lasted several months. However, the goblins could attack nearby villages and settlements and burn the fields while keeping the fortified city surrounded and under attack, and then hide in the mountains before reinforcements arrived. Their goal wasn’t the occupation of the city; they were after food and property. In that sense, they were more like a band of armed refugees than an army.

It was as if the problems of the mountainous northeastern Yamato Archipelago had been laid bare. With topography like this, it would be extremely difficult for a huge organization like an army to work together in a coordinated fashion.

As he rubbed his aching temples, Sergiad thought to himself.

I suppose the conclusion reached by the Lords’ Council will be an encircling operation, with the consent of all lords… There’s nothing for it but to prepare to lose many soldiers and adopt a strategy of defeating the enemy no matter the cost to ourselves. …In that case, though, the problem will be determining which lord will fire the first arrow…

“Fire the first arrow” sounded good, but the role was incredibly close to that of a sacrificial pawn.

First, a fortified city, somewhere, would be surrounded. That city would shore up its defenses and resist the goblins. The goblins would wear themselves out trying to conquer this stronghold. The lords’ alliance would then encircle the goblin army and annihilate it.

From a military standpoint, this was the correct strategy.

It was nearly the only feasible way for them to wipe out the goblin army. However, the strategy required the sacrifice of a fortified city.

The most likely candidates for the sacrifice were, first and foremost, the town of Tsukuba, and then the city of Maihama, which Duke Sergiad governed.

All of the lords were aware of this.

However, they were hesitant to say it.

It was easy to say “be surrounded,” but it was equivalent to telling them to accept the fact that the nearby villages, and the fields and orchards they’d cultivated so desperately, would be reduced to dust and ashes. In addition, there was a good possibility that many of their citizens would lose their lives. “Sacrifice yourself” wasn’t the sort of thing they could say easily.

“…I-in accordance with the charter of the League of Free Cities, we seek the aid of the Lords’ Council.”

Marquis Kilivar of Tsukuba’s voice was nearly a shriek.

However, even at that voice, most of the lords responded by wordlessly averting their eyes.

“Th-that’s it! Akiba! We have the town of Akiba! Let’s make them use their forces to annihilate the goblins. We must! After all, aren’t they the cause of all this?!”

Marquis Kilivar, half-despairing, screamed as if to prevent the silence from crushing him. At these words, several of the lords seemed to show interest.

Hmm…

Sergiad’s expression also remained stern, but he closed his eyes and thought.

Marquis was right.

His thoughts up until now had been bound by the existing framework of the League of Free Cities. However, at present, there was a new element in the picture: the town of Akiba and its Adventurers. They might be able to find some effective way to cope with the situation.

That said—

Although their existence was a powerful weapon for the League, at the same time, it was a double-edged sword. No one could guarantee that the Adventurers themselves were a controllable force.

Was it all right to ask beings like them for help? If they asked for aid, they’d have to tell them everything. …Including the fact that their deterrent, the Knights of Izumo, was absent.

Adventurers were powerful, after all.

If they felt so inclined and decided to declare war on Eastal, the goblin uprising would be nothing compared to the disaster they would trigger. The circumstances were too unclear for them to tell the Adventurers that the Knights of Izumo, who should have been able to restrain them, had disappeared.

Personally, Sergiad didn’t think it would be a bad idea to trust the three young men who had come to them as delegates.

Michitaka had the air of a wealthy merchant. He seemed to be the sort of person who was big enough to absorb short-term loss for the sake of a good cause and his own merchant’s code.

The youth who had called himself Shiroe seemed scholarly, but his essence was like a well-tempered sword. No matter the difficulty, once that sword was drawn, no doubt he’d slice clean through his obstacle.

Then there was Krusty. The young man who organized the Round Table Council was no knight. Heaven had blessed him with more talents than could be expressed by the word knight. On the other hand, however, the depth of light and darkness to the young man called Krusty had a density that even Sergiad, at the age of sixty, could not see through.

Of course, he had to draw a firm line between his own personal goodwill and his decision as Sergiad Cowen, Leading Lord of Eastal, the League of Free Cities, Ruler of the City of Maihama, and the greatest noble in the East. In addition, it wouldn’t do to mistake the three representatives’ personal good faith for the political decisions of the town of Akiba.

To say nothing of the fact that the Ancient Dynasty of Westlande is undoubtedly keeping an eye on this situation…

Several lords were with Marquis Kilivar, who was loudly insisting that the Adventurers be sent into battle. A smaller number of lords argued against it, bringing up the matter of the Knights of Izumo and saying that it would be a bad idea for reasons of secrecy.

However, the majority of the lords expressed doubts regarding realistic means: It would be a fine thing if the Adventurers went into battle, but how were they to actually draw them onto the battlefield? They didn’t have any reward or power of coercion that could make it happen.

All in all, the council buzzed like a prodded wasps’ nest.

The confusion did not die down until the next day, when Shiroe and the others received the report from Nyanta, who was away at summer camp.

3

The morning after the lords’ conference:

A telechat from Zantleaf informed Shiroe and the others of the emergency outside the Eastal convention.

It wasn’t clear whether Nyanta’s report had been the first. At roughly the same time as Shiroe, Michitaka and Krusty were also contacted by their own guild members.

The Zantleaf Peninsula was under a large-scale attack by demihuman tribes.

At this, Shiroe and his companions had returned to the living room to hold an emergency measures meeting. The only people present were Shiroe, Michitaka, Krusty, and a few other Adventurer representatives—their attendants were either on duty guarding the conference room or out gathering intel.

Simultaneously, an emergency Round Table Council had been convened in the Round Table Room on the top floor of the guild center in Akiba. In this way, even though there was a great distance between them, and although it was slightly inconvenient, they were able to hold a jury-rigged Round Table Council by using telechat relays.

“Situation first.”

In response to Michitaka’s demand, Shiroe read off notes he’d made regarding the information they had at present.

“Attacks by multiple demihuman species have been confirmed on the Zantleaf Peninsula, beginning this morning. Sixty-seven players from the town of Akiba, including new players, are currently there for a summer training camp. The invading forces from the sea are sahuagins. Although their total numbers are unclear, there are several hundred at the very least. There is a large-scale plunder tribe composed mainly of goblins in the hilly, forested area at the peninsula’s center. This one is at least ten thousand strong.”

“Ten thousand” was easy enough to say, but it was a preposterous number, a number that would give even ordinary players vertigo.

The basic unit for group battles in Elder Tales was the party. This was a tactical unit used when fellow Adventurers pooled their strength and worked together in a coordinated manner, and its upper limit was six members. When leaving on an ordinary adventure or tackling a dungeon, the Adventurers of Elder Tales coped by forming such parties.

However, sometimes, events or quests that couldn’t be handled by six-member parties came up. For times like these, Elder Tales had a system known as “raids.”

There were several levels of raid, but the most typical was a “full raid,” made up of four small, six-person units—in other words, parties—joined into a group of twenty-four players. Almost all heroic battles in Elder Tales had been fought in this configuration.

When the Debauchery Tea Party had won their griffins in Hades’ Breath, it had been the result of a twenty-four-member raid.

There was another unit that surpassed even full raids: “legion raids,” in which four of these twenty-four-player companies were joined together. Very few examples existed in the history of Elder Tales. It was a group unit intended for ultra-large-scale live events, for extreme difficulties, or to respond to national crises.

It was hard for a total of ninety-six people to cooperate, and it was impossible for a normal player to even grasp the general state of the battle. Commanding took enormous courage and great tactical sense.

Goblin levels were by no means high, however.

They were mob monsters, and a level-90 player could easily handle several dozen of them on their own. However, no one had even heard of a group whose total numbers were a hundred times that of a ninety-six-member legion raid.

“Not only that, but these numbers are mere estimates. I believe the actual numbers are even greater.”

“What do you mean?” Krusty said, responding to Shiroe.

“It’s about the cause of this invasion.”

‘The cause? You have an idea about what that might be?’

One of the present attendants was relaying the exchange via telechat. The question had probably come from Soujirou of the West Wind Brigade. Shiroe prefaced his response with: “This is only my conjecture, not verified fact,” then began to speak:

“It’s likely that the Return of the Goblin King is behind this invasion.”

At Shiroe’s words, not only the room in which the three guild masters were conversing, but the Round Table Council in Akiba, and Marielle—who was participating from central Zantleaf via telechat—fell silent.

The Return of the Goblin King had been a regularly occurring game event, back when Elder Tales was a game.

Seventh Fall, the Goblin tribes’ castle, was located in the deepest part of the Black Forest, a deep, dark forest in the Ouu region.

Once every two years, the coronation of the Goblin King was held at this castle. The individual crowned was the strongest leader among the six local goblin tribes.

Explained in game terms, it was an event that occurred once every two months in Earth time. During this event, the entrance to the Seventh Fall zone was opened for just one week, and any player who was able to sneak in and subjugate the Goblin King within that period would acquire a powerful item.

The event had been extraordinarily popular, for two reasons: First, the items dropped by the Goblin King were fairly powerful ones. They weren’t magic items that a player from a major guild with an ultrahigh level would want badly enough to kill for, but within the range of items that the average player was able to obtain, their performance made them highly sought after.

A second point, one that couldn’t be overlooked, was that the castle guard and the Goblin King’s strength were variable.

According to the game’s backstory, “Goblin King” was a position taken by the strongest Goblin of the surrounding tribes. In other words, if players attacked the Goblin strongholds scattered across the Ouu region beforehand and chipped away at their power, the strength of the Goblins in the Seventh Fall zone would be significantly reduced. In addition, the level and strength of the Goblin King would be weakened.

Due to these peculiarities, the Return of the Goblin King had grown popular as a fulfilling quest that players could challenge even if they didn’t belong to a major combat guild.

“—That’s right. The Return of the Goblin King, the one with which you’re all familiar. There’s an important element to that event which we’re forgetting, since it almost never actually happened.”

The subjugation of the Goblin King required a raid, but as long as you’d cut back the goblins’ power beforehand, the difficulty wasn’t high at all, to the point where it might as well have been designed for midsized guilds. For that reason, even Shiroe didn’t know of any cases where the Goblin King went unsubjugated within that one-week period.

However, if memory served him right, there had been an additional note in the event description.

“I see… You mean the bit about how, if the Goblin King doesn’t get subjugated within that one week, he’ll unite the surrounding goblin tribes and form an army dozens of times bigger?”

Michitaka had put his finger on it, and Shiroe nodded.

It was just as he’d said.

Once successfully crowned, the Goblin King would become the hero of the goblin tribes, and his forces would increase dramatically.

Ever since the Catastrophe, Shiroe and the other Adventurers had been desperate to create a livable environment for themselves in this other world. So desperate, in fact, that although the Return of the Goblin King had been a popular event when Elder Tales was a game, they’d let it slip by without a thought.

“‘Do you think the goblins have managed to hold on to all their power as well?’” one of the attendants asked, conveying a messaged received via telechat.

Shiroe thought a little, then nodded. “Yes. Absolutely no attacks were launched against the six surrounding tribes this time around, and no successive attacks were mounted on Seventh Fall, the Goblin King’s main castle. It’s probably best to assume that the levels of the Goblin King’s royal guard and combat units are the highest they’ve ever been. Of course, the King is probably formidable as well. …What makes me more uneasy is the question of how large the united goblin tribes actually are.”

A subdued silence filled the conference room.

Every one of them was mute, not because they wanted to be, but because they didn’t know what to say.

That said, it didn’t turn into a panic, most likely because they’d been granted a certain sense of security. They’d received a report that the summer camp group had safely evacuated to the abandoned school, and Marielle of the Crescent Moon League was currently taking part in this conference by telechat from that very school.

Since the telechat function could only be used one-on-one, Henrietta was in the conference room, in communication with Marielle and acting as her proxy.

In addition, even if powerful monsters surrounded the abandoned school in which the group had barricaded itself, the group could use Call of Home to find shelter in Akiba, and they wouldn’t take any damage.

The fact that there was a large goblin army on the move near the root of the Zantleaf Peninsula meant it was probably heading west or south, razing nearby villages and settlements as it went, but there was still some distance left between it and the town of Akiba. Besides, even if the army did attempt to invade, Akiba had enough manpower to engage it.

And while the Goblin King was more powerful than he’d ever been, they could guess his approximate level. Subjugating the Goblin King required a full raid—twenty-four Adventurers—and there were more than five hundred times that in Akiba.

Still, this time is…

The town of Akiba was fine. However, Eastal, the League of Free Cities, couldn’t afford to sit by idly, as Akiba’s Round Table Council could. If the army of ten thousand stayed the size it was currently, it would have enough power to capture a weaker fortified city.

Unfortunately, Shiroe didn’t have much military knowledge, so he couldn’t say for certain, but he suspected that quite a few of the League of Free Cities’ lords were turning pale.

“What about the Knights of Izumo?”

Henrietta spoke hesitantly, addressing the whole group.

At her words, a murmur of something like agreement went up: “Oho,” “Now that you mention it…”

The Knights of Izumo.

They were a chivalric order on the Japanese server, composed of Ancients.

Ancients were heroic beings born from among the People of the Earth. They had combat abilities that surpassed even Adventurers’ abilities, and they were the good human races’ trump card. The Adventurers’ overwhelming numbers meant they’d practically monopolized demihuman subjugation and quests ever since they’d first appeared in this world, but during battles where the fate of the world hung in the balance, chivalric orders of Ancients always stepped in.

There were twelve servers around the world, and thirteen chivalric orders. One of these, the Knights of Izumo, held a position equivalent to guardian deity for the Japanese server, or rather, for the Yamato Archipelago.

When Elder Tales was a game, Shiroe had frequently heard stories of these knights. It wasn’t just him, either; the higher players’ levels got, the more often they heard tales of the legendary chivalric orders. On quite a few quests, they fought alongside them or followed in their footsteps.

Because they were the guardians of all the good human races in this world, they didn’t involve themselves in political conflicts between lords, but they’d probably bestir themselves for a demihuman invasion.

From the atmosphere in the conference room, everyone seemed to feel as if there was no need for them to do anything, but Shiroe was skeptical. For example, they hadn’t confirmed whether the Knights of Izumo were still functional at this point.

He was irritated with himself for being overly critical as usual, but it seemed strange to him that the goblin tribes would head south in the first place. All the official site had said about it was, “If left alone, the Goblin King will unite the nearby forces and build a great kingdom.”

…Is this really all right?

However, it wasn’t as though Shiroe had a clear answer, either. Besides, now that the Spirit Theory issue was on the table, he was hesitant about conducting a large-scale battle.

4

“Princess, Princess. …Princess Raynesia?”

At her maid’s voice, Raynesia turned.

“What is it…?” she asked, tilting her head.

The look was so adorable that if the palace knights had been there, they would have been smitten by it and pledged lifelong loyalty, but the person who was actually there was a maid who’d served her closely for long years.

“Were you thinking, milady? Lunchtime’s still a ways off.”

She returned a casually mean response.

Even so, for a remonstration, it was rather friendly. As far as Raynesia’s actions went, “thinking” was unusual. She “brooded” much more than she “thought,” and what she did most of all was “space out.”

“Hm? …Was that what it looked like, Elissa?”

Maybe because she was used to it, Raynesia didn’t argue about any of it; instead, she responded to her question with a question.

Raynesia was seated at the vanity, and the maid she’d called Elissa circled around behind her and began combing her magnificent silver hair.

“Yes, it did look like that. It’s an unusual thing for you, Princess.”

At those words—truly unusually—Raynesia became lost in thought again.

The trick to telling them apart was in her gaze. When she lowered her eyes slightly and all emotion vanished from her face, she was “thinking.”

But the expression where her gaze slid diagonally down, and she seemed to be enduring distress yet still trying to smile, was “brooding.” When she was depressed over things—and they were usually the sort of things that made Elissa think, Why that?—this was the expression she wore.

This was the true identity of the smile university graduates and civil servants couldn’t get enough of, the “Twilight mystic princess filled with melancholy” smile. …Although what she was worried about were things like I’m afraid I really did eat too much at dinner last night…or What if they throw away those old pajamas I’ve worn out?

The expression that was highly popular with knights, military officers and other tough, physical types was the “spacing out” face. In that one, she tilted her head slightly with an entranced, dreaming expression and gave the faintest of smiles. If she spaced out even more, her eyes grew moist, making it even more charming.

In this case, since she was “spacing out,” asking her about it would reveal that she really wasn’t thinking anything at all. It would often be something like, “My, what lovely weather,” or “I’d like to have a nap.” Hearing that much made her sound dumb, but from what Elissa had seen, her mistress Raynesia was dumb, so there was no real mistake there.

…At least in ordinary, everyday life, at any rate.

Honestly! Beautiful people are so difficult to deal with. They really are.

There was nothing Elissa could do but sigh.

She was a lady-in-waiting who served the princess, after all, and compared to the average girl, she was considered quite a beauty herself. When she went to the castle town on her occasional day off, she was invariably accosted by men she didn’t know.

However, although Elissa considered herself “a pretty woman,” she didn’t think she was beautiful or lovely. The ones who were beautiful in the truest sense of the word were people like Raynesia. Beauty on that level was an ability completely independent of the person it belonged to, and its effects operated in a separate dimension from Raynesia’s own character and intentions.

I’m not particularly jealous, myself.

With a small sigh, Elissa kept combing the luxuriant silver waterfall of Raynesia’s hair. Even a single skein of the hair that flowed coolly between her fingers was a treasure worth its weight in gold.

“…He hasn’t come by today, has he?” Feeling as if she’d like to tease her a little, Elissa slipped the words into their current conversation.

“Pardon?”

“Master Krusty.”

“—Why?”

“No reason. You often take lunch together these days, that’s all. Considering the time, I thought it he was about due to invite you somewhere or pay a call.”

“D-do you think so…?”

Raynesia’s response was a bit flustered. This “slightly upset” Raynesia wasn’t the “lovely princess” the knights adored.

She was a marvelously beautiful princess, of course, but rather than “lovely,” she looked a terribly naïve and awkward girl…or, in common terms, a completely hopeless one. Elissa liked this version of her mistress.

“Yes, I do. Gentlemen are always so insensitive, aren’t they? Here we are, doing our best with our traveling wardrobe and really struggling, and yet they don’t even consider the convenience of our outfits. Good gracious me. …You wore the pearl dress, the lavender stole, and the amethyst necklace to yesterday’s luncheon party, didn’t you. The day before was the pale rose-violet satin… Yes, the double-tiered dress.”

“Yes.”

The Raynesia in the mirror looked back at Elissa with a blank expression. Apparently she didn’t understand what Elissa was saying.

“Listen to me, Princess. This is not Maihama’s Castle Cinderella. In consequence, there is a limit to your wardrobe. If you take lunch with one particular gentleman this many times in a row, there are only so many combinations we can use to make it look as though you have a variety of dresses. Since it is a luncheon party, you can’t wear the sort of cocktail dress you’d wear to a supper party, and we must exercise restraint in how much skin we expose during the day. Of course, if dining in the courtyard, the shape of your cuffs must be appropriate, and if dining indoors, we must consider how the colors will look against the wallpaper…”

After mulling over Elissa’s words for a short while, Raynesia spoke timidly.

“I could just wear what I wore yesterday…”

“No. Lunching in the same dress, two days in a row? Are you some backwater country girl?” Elissa promptly interrupted.

“Then… What about the silk dress-shirt with a highland kilt-skirt?”

“Those are to wear in your room. And really, that’s what you wear specifically to laze around in, Princess!”

At her staff’s ferocity, Raynesia fell silent, looking rather like a scolded puppy. Even then, she looked as if she were withstanding hardship while harboring melancholy: Beautiful people were a force to be reckoned with.

Still, inside her head, she’s a failure of a human being. A highland kilt-skirt indeed! That isn’t the sort of outfit one can show to gentlemen. She isn’t a tavern wench.

“I really don’t think Master Krusty would care about that sort of thing…”

“Not true. Gentlemen will say, ‘I don’t care, I don’t care,’ but inside, they’re ruthlessly evaluating you. That is an absolute given. ‘I love you just the way you are,’ they’ll say, but if you act fuzzy-headed around them, they’ll be gone in a twinkling. That is what gentlemen are. What’s required is ‘to look natural,’ not to actually be natural! Listen, Princess, in the first place, you are—”

However, just as Elissa was beginning to warm to her sermon, she was interrupted by a knock.

The man who came in, trailing his steward and seeming too impatient to wait for a response, was Raynesia’s father, Phenel.

“Oh, Raynesia. Listen, and try to stay calm.”

Exuding consternation, Phenel took a great gulp out of a glass of water that had been handed to him, then squeezed out the words:

“A huge horde of goblins is bearing down on the city of Maihama. There seem to be close to ten thousand of them. Even now, the enemy’s numbers are increasing, and in a few days, they will probably be a massive army several times their current size. …In the worst-case scenario, of course.”

For a moment, Elissa was unable to grasp the meaning of the words.

Ten thousand. Ten times one hundred was one thousand, and this was ten times that.

The city of Maihama was the largest residential area in Eastal, but its population was only about thirty thousand, including farmers, merchants, and everyone else. Maihama’s forces consisted of one thousand civic security officers who policed the city and the four hundred Maihama Knights who worked at the castle. Even including the patrolling chivalric orders brought it to a total of at most two thousand, give or take.

The moment she’d thought that far, Elissa felt all the blood in her body retreat with a roar.

A hostile army of ten thousand!!

If the enemy was demihumans, the citizen volunteers would hardly stand a chance. She’d heard the word siege before, but to a lady-in-waiting like Elissa who knew nothing of war, two thousand seemed to have no chance of victory against ten thousand.

“Of course it isn’t certain that the ugly demons will attack our cherished treasure, the city of Maihama. The town of Tsukuba and several other nobles’ territories are in the danger zone as well. However, the circumstances are unpredictable. I’m just about to hurry back to Maihama.”

“Father! In that case, I’ll go with—”

Raynesia was on the point of rising, her expression serious and sharp.

True, Raynesia was bad at associating with people; she was an idler, and spacey, and it was hard to believe she was the daughter of a great noble family.

However, while it was hard to believe that she was the daughter of a great family, it wasn’t that she was unsuited to be one.

She wasn’t unsuited. Not a bit. This half-hearted, irresponsible princess had inherited the blood of the Cowen family, one of only two remaining dukedoms in Yamato. The exalted lineage of the princess on whom Elissa waited and the latent abilities it held were the only things she had never doubted.

“No, there’s no need for that. You stay here, at court.”

“Why? If the domain is in crisis, the whole family should return—”

“No, Father is also staying at the court.”

“Father” was the current head of the House of Cowen, Duke Sergiad. Raynesia’s father had married Sergiad’s daughter Saraliya, Raynesia’s mother.

“This demihuman invasion is uncanny. From its size, it does not seem to be a cataclysm that has fallen on our city of Maihama alone. An attack made solely on Maihama isn’t the worst that could happen. …Should worse come to worst, the goblins may lay waste to our entire land, all the territory of the Free Cities. As such, the Lord’s Council must be in perfect unity. And as the leading lord, Father must not leave the Ancient Court, and you must support him. …You do understand, don’t you?”

In all likelihood, he’d only come to tell her this.

Without waiting to hear his daughter’s response, Phenel left the room at a brisk clip. Elissa could only bow her head deeply and watch him go.

Phenel was her employer. She saw him far less than Raynesia, whom she served directly, or Raynesia’s mother Saraliya, but she had the impression that he was a sincere person.

The lord of the city of Maihama, on the other hand, was Duke Sergiad. He had ascended to the position of lord at a young age, he had a great reputation for being clear-sighted, and the people were deeply attached to him. His daughter Saraliya and granddaughter Raynesia were also extraordinarily beloved.

In contrast to them, it must be pointed out that Phenel, merely a son-in-law and an outsider, made—however rude it was to say it—a rather shallow impression.

Elissa’s parents had told her that when it had been decided that a young man who was not the general of a chivalric order nor the relative of the lord of another country but an ex–civil servant—and one who’d been involved in practical business, at that—would be added to the royal family, the people of Maihama might not have been disappointed, exactly, but they’d felt mildly let down.

However, as Phenel showed not a scrap of hesitation in his haste to reach his territory, the sight of his back betrayed nothing of the softness and naïveté of an ex–civil servant. A man as weak as that could never have passed muster with Sergiad in the first place. Elissa felt deeply convinced.

“Father…”

“Princess?”

At the murmur, Elissa returned her attention to Raynesia.

She was brooding again.

Except…her expression was completely different from the one Elissa had noted as “the thinking Raynesia” just a moment before.

Her eyes seemed to gaze at something invisible, and they held a quiet, intense flame. She stood gracefully, but the noble determination that surged from her made it impossible for anyone to say she was “filled with melancholy” or any such nonsense.

“Prin…cess…?”

Raynesia kept biting her lip, as if she hadn’t even heard Elissa’s voice.

5

The abandoned school was located on a gentle slope near the sea on the Zantleaf Peninsula. Its grounds were teeming with Adventurers.

They were exchanging murmured private conversations, but their expressions were filled with tension. They weren’t a disciplined army, so there was no senior officer to badger them about rank and rules, but each huddled close to the people they knew or gathered in groups with people close to their level, and they all seemed to be waiting.

Although no one had specifically said to, all the Adventurers had finished inspecting their belongings and checking their equipment. Several large barrels had been placed near the big tent in the center, and staff members were distributing chilled Black Rose Tea to companions who brought over waterskins or canteens.

They were probably acting spontaneously. The Adventurers who’d been given tea returned to their companions and resumed talking in low voices.

A sun that seemed larger than it had at noon was sinking, dyeing the western sky crimson. It was already evening.

For a while now, several Adventurers had been constantly going into and out of the single large tent that remained standing in the center.

According to the plan someone had announced in a loud voice a short while earlier, the school would be used as their headquarters at least until the safety of all the training camp participants had been confirmed. However, conversely, the announcement had hinted that, once everyone’s safety had been confirmed, there was the possibility of a mass exodus.

Marielle looked away from the scene outside the tent and sighed.

Inside the big tent, Nyanta, Naotsugu, Marielle, Shouryuu, Lezarik, and the other level-90 leaders were holding a meeting.

On paper, Marielle was the person responsible for the summer camp. Although the Crescent Moon League was a smaller guild, it was one of the eleven guilds that sponsored the Round Table Council. As guild master of the Crescent Moon League, there were only ten other players who were on equal footing with her. Those ten colleagues were currently scattered between the town of Akiba and the Ancient Court of Eternal Ice. Marielle was the one to whom the Round Table Council had entrusted the newbies’ training.

They’d reported the sahuagin and goblin attacks to the Round Table Council, of course, and they were certain to be discussing remedial measures on that end as well.

“Miss Mari? I wouldn’t stress about it too much. Leave that stuff to Shiro; he’ll figure something. Henrietta’s there, too, right? See, nothing to worry about. They’ll cheat or do whatever it takes and come up with a good plan.”

“Thanks, hon.”

Marielle gave a great big, perfectly ordinary smile.

Even she thought that now wasn’t really the time for smiling, but the brush with sincere human kindness had made her happy. This boy—or, no, that was weird; Naotsugu was only a couple of years younger than she was, so “this young man” was better—was capable of careful consideration for others to an extent you’d never imagine from the rough-and-ready way he generally spoke and acted. Ever since she’d noticed it, Naotsugu’s solicitude had made Marielle incredibly happy.

“Right! That was glomp-worthy! Here comes a glomp!”

Partly to hide her embarrassment, she squeezed the flustered Naotsugu hard. The way he went bright red and panicked was cute, and she thought it was funny.

“Wai–! Wait. Miss Mari. Quit. Quit!! Cease-and-desist city, evacuate city, they’re-touching-me city, bikini city?!”

He seemed too upset, really, but even as Marielle tilted her head in bewilderment, she kept hugging Naotsugu’s head until Nyanta checked her, mildly:

“Mariellecchi? Listen. It might be best if mew changed into something else. It’s already evening. …Ahem. That is to say, mew see, a single parka over a bikini is a bit too stimulating for Naotsugucchi.”

When he pointed this out to her, Marielle registered what he meant and hastily jumped back.

He was absolutely right. She’d been so tense up until now that she hadn’t even noticed it. Why, she was practically half naked.

Nuh-nuh-not good! How could I be ditzy enough to go ’round dressed like this… Uu! I bet they think I’m a real dumb broad. Lucky Henrietta isn’t here; she would’ve smacked me good for this…

The chest she’d pressed against Naotsugu was flushed and hot, and apparently it was from shame, because she felt the same heat in her cheeks. Marielle ran to the back of the tent and took a change of equipment out of her magic bag. Since she was on the other side of a standing screen and the others couldn’t see her, she picked out a tunic shirt and light armor and began to simply pull them on over her swimsuit.

“Excuse me! Roll call completed for the over-level-thirty group! They’re all here!”

Marielle was in the middle of changing and couldn’t see, but she heard Nyanta take the team leader’s report. That was probably the last of the roll calls. At the thought that they really hadn’t lost any participants, Marielle felt as if a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

The battle they’d fought as they retreated from the coast had been a fierce one.

It wasn’t that the enemy’s level had been all that high. There had just been so many of them. The tactics required for long-term battles—in specific terms, those for MP distribution—were different from those for short-term ones.

As a Cleric, it went without saying that Marielle was a Recovery class. When a Recovery class ran out of MP, it meant the supply of recovery spells for the front line was cut off. Healers held the lives of everyone in the party in their hands, and it was necessary to pay very close attention to MP management. However, in Elder Tales, the only battles were those fought by normal parties during dungeon explorations and the like, and they lasted anywhere from thirty seconds to a few minutes. It was extremely hard to learn management techniques for use in battles that lasted more than ten minutes.

Fierce battles that went on that long belonged to a territory that only some of the major guilds experienced—raids.

However, the summer camp contingent had managed to get through that running battle somehow.

Some players had been injured, of course, but fortunately, none of the injuries had been so serious as to not be recovered by spells after the fact. Shouryuu had commented that making it through the first wave had given the newbies a sense of the attitude and courage needed for battle, and in that sense, it probably hadn’t been a waste.

When Marielle had finished changing and was giving her hair a few swipes with a brush, she began to hear a hum of voices outside the tent.

“Miss Mari!”

Drawn by Naotsugu’s call, Marielle went outside, where the sky was turning violet. What she saw, flickering in the forests on the distant mountain range, was the light of countless tiny flames, no bigger than grains of rice.

“…They’re torches,” Nyanta murmured.

It was a fantastical sight, and at the same time, there was something incredibly disturbing and ominous about it.

The forested hills of Zantleaf were sunk in shadow, backlit by the burning evening sun. Among them, innumerable tiny flames were flickering and moving, like lights carried by ants.

“Just at a glance, I’d say, what, a hundred, maybe a hundred and fifty?” Naotsugu muttered.

Of course, it didn’t follow that there was just one goblin for every torch, but at the very least, there were that many goblins traveling through the mountains. Marielle understood that they’d abandoned even the idea of hiding themselves and moving in secret now.

Those myriad wavering flames were a wordless threat from the goblins: We’re about to attack you.

“Bring a map!”

“Right, hang on. I’ll summon a Magic Torch.”

High-level Adventurers who’d come from Keel and the West Wind Brigade seemed to be calculating the goblin unit’s position on a map. Serara looked nervous; she was hanging on to the tail of Nyanta’s jacket. Nyanta was staring intently at the map and the written notes, but before long he raised his head and looked toward the southeast, straining his eyes.

While the sun was still up, Nyanta had ventured out on a griffin to do some aerial reconnaissance. At present, he was probably the one with the most complete knowledge of the goblins’ movements.

Even faced with this eerie sight, the people in the square weren’t all that agitated. Now that all the participants had been accounted for, in extreme terms, they could abandon the camp immediately and hold the closing ceremony in Akiba fifteen minutes later. Since Call of Home existed, it was probably only natural that no one felt as if they’d been chased into the jaws of death.

In this world, Adventurers were overwhelmingly the strong.

Well, either way, it depends on what we decide to do after talkin’ it over with the Round Table Council. Still, now that we know we’re all here, I should prob’ly report in…

Just as Marielle was thinking this, Nyanta came over with Serara and Minori. He was wearing a rather complicated expression. Naotsugu and Lezarik were near Marielle. Nyanta had probably come with some opinion or report to deliver to Marielle and the others, the senior management of the summer camp.

“What’s the matter? Did somethin’ happen?” Marielle asked.

“It seems we have a bit of a problem. No, I suppose there’s really no need for us to trouble ourselves, but… Hm.”

Unusually for him, Nyanta seemed to be having trouble choosing his words; he hesitated.

“What’s up? Spit it out, Retiree.” Naotsugu sensed that Marielle was bewildered, so he spoke to his guild mate, his tone direct.

“—Apparently, that mewnit plans to attack the village of Choushi. A midsized plunder mewnit, I mean; not the full army I found. The main force of the goblin army is far, far to the north… In other words, they intend to make Choushi their provisions storehouse.”

“The village of Choushi doesn’t have a town wall.”

It was Minori who’d cut in.

Her clenched palms were trembling slightly, but even so, the middle schooler tensed her legs and stood firmly, speaking to Marielle.

“If we leave things as they are, Choushi won’t last until morning.”

6

“There are that many of ’em…?” Michitaka echoed, like a parrot.

There were five people in the small conference room:

“Berserker” Krusty, the leader of D.D.D.

Soujirou, the harem-prone guild master of the West Wind Brigade.

“Iron Arm” Michitaka, general manager of the Marine Organization.

Henrietta, proxy for the head of the Crescent Moon League guild.

…And “Machiavelli-with-Glasses” Shiroe, of Log Horizon.

The Round Table Council had swiftly convened a meeting to discuss the sudden crisis that assailed the Zantleaf Peninsula. Marielle, who was in Zantleaf to train newbies, and Krusty, Michitaka, and Shiroe, who were stationed at the Ancient Court of Eternal Ice for the negotiations with the People of the Earth, all participated by proxy, via telechat.

The conclusion reached by the telechat meeting was, in a word, Wait.

At this point in time, they were unable to come to a conclusion. All they could do was stay in close contact, gather intel, and watch how the situation unfolded. That was the general outline of their conclusion.

However, that didn’t make it all right for them not to prepare for an emergency.

One of the three measures Shiroe had proposed to the Round Table Council had been to reinforce the guard at the Ancient Court of Eternal Ice. Many nobles were gathered there, and they couldn’t leave it defenseless. The aristocrats had brought bodyguards, of course, but from the Adventurers’ perspective, that wasn’t enough military power.

It was thus that after the Round Table Council, in response to Shiroe’s request, the West Wind Brigade promptly rushed to the Ancient Court.

The Ancient Court of Eternal Ice was located roughly southwest of the ruined city of Eastal. It was hard to imagine that the goblins would attack it. This was a safe place, and there was no need for reinforcements. However, the movements of the Lords’ Council were unpredictable, and in several of the developments Shiroe predicted, there was a possibility that either Shiroe or Krusty would be unable to continue their participation in the Council. To that end, the Ancient Court delegation requested reinforcements from the town of Akiba.

That said, under the circumstances, during this stare-down with the Lords’ Council, calling in reinforcements on too large a scale might invite the lords’ animosity. Because of that, Shiroe singled out the West Wind Brigade, a comparatively small guild that belonged to the Round Table Council and was composed of high-level players.

The West Wind Brigade was currently setting up camp at a point about ten minutes on horseback from the Ancient Court of Eternal Ice. Soujirou, the guild master, had gone ahead to the court, with only a few advisers.

In the League of Free Cities, the towns of Akiba and Shibuya were the two closest town zones to the Ancient Court of Eternal Ice. If they felt like it, they could reach it in under two hours, even traveling on horseback. That was how they’d managed to arrive that evening in response to a telechat conference held in the morning.

According to reports, the great horde of goblins had been sighted in a location that skimmed the edge of the Zantleaf Peninsula’s root.

In the old world, the location Shiroe had roughly indicated on the map was in the vicinity of Abiko and Toride. There these towns had acted as bedroom communities for Tokyo, but in this world they were lush, green, undeveloped fields and mountains.

“They seem to be splitting into tribes and working with each other as they move, centered on this area. However, their coordination isn’t perfect. They can sense the existence of the king, but the system of command is probably completely different between tribes. They’re irregular, spread out over a large area. That’s actually a problem,” Shiroe commented.

When they looked on a map, yes, the location was already nearly touching the sphere of influence of the ruined city of Eastal. If the town of Tsukuba and the city of Maihama were connected by a rough straight line, Eastal was right in the center, where it would keep them from working together.

“In the first place, because their movements are so scattered, we can’t get an accurate grasp of their numbers. We’ve had several reports, but… If we believe the latest aerial reconnaissance report, the goblin army is fifteen thousand strong.”

“Fifteen thousand…”

It was Henrietta who’d spoken. She sounded as if she was at a loss for words. She wasn’t a guild master affiliated with the Round Table Council; she was serving as Marielle’s proxy while Marielle was in Zantleaf at the summer camp. As a result, she’d refrained from speaking much during this discussion and exchange of information, but the cry seemed to have slipped out involuntarily.

“The numbers aren’t that much of a threat,” Soujirou said nonchalantly. “A group of Adventurers can battle equal numbers of monsters again and again, you know. If the enemy is goblins, even a midlevel player can fight them ten times in a row, give or take. If there were fifteen hundred of us, we could annihilate them.”

This was a sound argument, but on the other hand, it evoked blood-soaked carnage.

“Well, we might be fine, but I doubt it’ll work that way for the Lords’ Council,” Michitaka countered Soujirou. At that, Soujirou gave an amiable laugh and scratched his head, saying, “Now that you mention it, you’re right.”

“Either way, as the telechat conference concluded, the Round Table Council has entrusted the response for this incident entirely to Krusty and the rest of the delegation. Since the goblins have attacked, it’s all the nobles of Eastal are talking about as well, isn’t it? In that case, it’s more efficient to talk here, rather than in Akiba.”

Although they’d decided to watch how things developed as a general rule, in a situation where they could expect to be contacted by the Lords’ Council, they couldn’t debate all responses in Akiba. As a result, this was the answer Akiba’s Round Table Council had chosen.

During negotiations such as these, it wasn’t advisable to restrict the authority of the people who were actually on location with the other party. They’d put their faith in the three of them as special envoys and given them full power.

“Well, mission accepted. We won’t do anything to put Akiba at a disadvantage,” Michitaka assured Soujirou, laughing brazenly.

After Shiroe had seen this, his eyes went to Krusty.

The big, handsome fellow wore a calm expression. He was gazing fixedly at the map, and he hadn’t spoken at all; he seemed to be lost in thought.

“—Aren’t the Knights of Izumo going to move?”

Shiroe was the one who accurately caught Krusty’s quiet question. Accurately and deeply, meaning included.

“I think some trouble we’re not aware of has come up. The Suzaku Gate Demon Festival, for example.”

Like the Return of the Goblin King, the Suzaku Gate Demon Festival was a recurring game event that happened once every three months in real-world time. The event developed a story in which the gates of hell had been opened and demons had flooded out into the world.

The difference between it and the Return of the Goblin King was that the Return of the Goblin King took place mainly in the Tohoku region, while the Suzaku Gate Demon Festival occurred in the Heian City of Exorcism.

In other words, if a similar disturbance was occurring in the west, it was possible that the Knights of Izumo had turned their forces in that direction. He didn’t really believe in the idea, but Shiroe mentioned it anyway.

“Hmm…”

It was hard to tell whether the answer had convinced Krusty or not. With his arms still folded, he retreated into silence again.

…There may never be another opportunity to confess.

Of course he’d run various calculations and predicted future developments. However, Shiroe had to call the reason for his final decision a premonition.

“I have one more thing to report.”

“Hm? What is it, Shiroe?”

“Master Shiroe…?”

Waiting until all eyes in the room were on him, Shiroe began to speak.

“It’s about ‘death’ in this other world. If we die, we revive in the Temple. We hadn’t thought about it any other way. If we pay a penalty in experience points, we thought, our bodies come back to life. We believed it implicitly, and naïvely, because that was how it was in Elder Tales.”

Krusty had been lost in thought, but at Shiroe’s words, his head came up and he began to listen.

“According to the information I’ve obtained… It hasn’t been confirmed yet, of course. This hasn’t been completely substantiated, but death in this other world also carries commensurate risk. I don’t mean losing some items or a few experience points. —At death, our yang energy is used to resurrect our yin energy and our bodies. Every time it happens, we seem to experience very slight memory loss.”

The conference room was meant for a small group, and it wasn’t very large. It was magnificent, though, and at a glance, it looked like a reception room. Currently, however, the air in that room was fraught with a tension that was practically palpable.

“It isn’t clear how much of our memory we lose. We also don’t know what sort of memories are lost… However, according to the hypothetical theory I discovered in a certain book, it does appear to happen.”

No one seemed able to react to Shiroe’s words.

After a long, long time, Krusty responded, briefly:

“Understood. …I assume that’s why I’m missing memories from the old world, then. It makes sense now.”

“……!!”

All eyes went to the massive warrior, who seemed completely composed. Even under those gazes, Krusty sat calmly, and his cool demeanor didn’t flicker.

“D.D.D. is a combat guild. Before Akiba’s renaissance, we conducted fierce combat training in order to adapt to battles in this world. I’ve experienced death a few times myself. I don’t generally worry about it, but it’s true that there are gaps. I can’t confirm it, but…it seems as though memories of the old world selectively drop out.”

“B-but that’s…”

“What the hell?!”

“Specifically what areas, and how much?”

Henrietta and Michitaka had started out of their chairs, nearly shrieking. Shiroe checked them, looked steadily at Krusty, and asked his question in a firm voice.

“I’ve died twice since the Catastrophe. Pinpointing holes in one’s memory is a fairly difficult task. If everything that relates to what you could pinpoint as missing is itself missing, it’s very hard to notice it, you see. All I can say is that, at present, the memory loss is still partial. The name of the elementary school I attended, the faces and nicknames of my friends from middle school, the design on my computer’s wallpaper, the lyrics of songs I liked— They’re all still there. From what I can tell, subjectively, nothing has been lost. However, I know I kept a cat, but I can’t think of its name or what it looked like. —The problem is that it’s extremely hard to tell whether these gaps are losses stemming from the yin-yang energy issue, or whether they’re ordinary forgetfulness. That said, my memory is comparatively good, so I presume it’s due to special circumstances, in other words, to the influence of this matter. That’s about all I can put my finger on. Right now, I don’t see any losses concerning my own name or information on family members or people I was close to. I don’t know whether that’s because important memories are protected, or whether it’s just a coincidence. However, if my own case can be applied to others, dying a few times doesn’t seem to result in memory loss that would inconvenience anyone. Even if one died several dozen times, it probably wouldn’t be enough to affect day-to-day life.”

Even dying several dozen times wouldn’t be enough to affect day-to-day life.

True, simply forgetting a cat’s name wouldn’t cause some grave problem to occur immediately. It would have no effect on clothing, food, or shelter.

That said, even if it caused no inconvenience in their everyday lives, it was a shocking confession.

In a way, it was safe to say that Shiroe’s guess had been correct. As he’d anticipated, the memory loss was partial, and they didn’t lose everything by dying once. At the very least, his guess that memories disappeared in amounts the person in question wouldn’t notice had been correct.

However, that didn’t mean that the fact didn’t shock him. After all, these were nothing less than memories of the old world. That was impact enough to plant an instinctive terror in the players; logic didn’t even come into it.

The group was speechless. The corners of Krusty’s lips curved into a smile.

“There’s no need to be so pessimistic. Just don’t die. If we avoid that, the memory loss won’t occur. And besides…”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Soujirou comforting a pale Henrietta. Soujirou was a harem maker, and he always ended up improving others’ opinions of him in situations like this.

Michitaka was dumbfounded. “Great Caesar’s Ghost…”

However, to Shiroe, the last half of Krusty’s sentence—the one the others probably hadn’t heard—had been the important part.

Krusty had whispered it with determination, in a voice that might have been called gentle:

“And besides, isn’t it true in either world that if there’s no meaning to be found in it, life is more terrible than death?”

His words lodged themselves in Shiroe’s heart.