1

Hurried preparations had been made.

Marielle of the Crescent Moon League was the only Round Table Council member on location at the abandoned school on the Zantleaf Peninsula, and her decision had been a pessimistic one:

All participants would move to the village of Choushi.

The band of Adventurers had no incentive to protect the People of the Earth’s village. That said, abandoning the place in such a dangerous position would have left a bad aftertaste.

At the very least, they should warn Choushi. This was a provisional move based on that decision.

However, one group was moving in a way that had nothing to do with that intent: the five members of Touya’s group.

The group had gotten their traveling equipment together promptly and had been the first of all the summer camp participants to set off for the town. At present, the roads seemed safe, but they couldn’t be careless. Touya and the others were advancing through the dark countryside in a patrol file, spaced slightly farther apart than they had been in the dungeon.

The magic light Rundelhaus had summoned lit the area around them more brightly than a torch, but even so, in this primitive other world, the nights were black indeed.

“What about that one?”

Every time Touya spotted a hut beside the great river, he called out. As they went, they checked every single fisherman’s hut. Depending on their location, the group sometimes shouted loudly, and if necessary, Isuzu conducted solo reconnaissance.

This was because, if People of the Earth were hiding in the huts for any reason, they’d lose their lives easily in a sahuagin or goblin attack. They needed to spend tonight in the village, Touya and the others had thought, and so they were performing this check voluntarily, without having been told.

“Hellooooo! Is anybody there?” Touya called toward a hut.

When he turned back to Isuzu, she silently shook her head. Apparently she didn’t sense anyone. In that case, this one was probably okay. Touya and the others set off again, making for Choushi.

“It looks like everyone’s evacuated.”

“Uh-huh,” Minori said, responding to Isuzu.

With their voices in his ears, Touya kept a vigilant eye on the area.

This farm road was fairly close to the coastline, and there were no goblins in sight. However, this close to the ocean, there was no telling when sahuagins might appear from its drenched darkness.

The group moved through the darkness, each keeping an eye on a different direction.

Having seen the countless torches on the mountainside, Touya had steeled himself, realizing that this had turned into something beyond belief. They might get pulled into combat. Awash in sunset light, Nyanta, Naotsugu, Marielle, and the others had been talking in low voices. He hadn’t sensed much fear from their shapes, but he had picked up a strong tension.

As he had been gazing, arms folded, at the distant hills swarming with goblins, his sister Minori had come up to him.

Touya had been startled.

What’s the matter with Minori?

He couldn’t remember ever seeing her like this: face pale, lips drawn. Minori had glanced around hesitantly, but even so, when she spoke to Touya, her voice was not.

“Let’s get ready to leave. I think we need to go to the village of Choushi,” she had said. “I…have to talk to Nyanta one more time, so you go persuade everyone, Touya.”

After Minori had told him this, she’d turned her back on him.

As if awed by his sister’s words, Touya had gone to invite their companions. They would leave for Choushi first, ahead of the summer camp group. …Though that was a little risky, when he thought about it—as the vanguard, they were more likely to run into monsters.

Touya had thought that one or more of his friends might be reluctant, but unexpectedly, persuading them took almost no work. Only Serara seemed hesitant, and she had assented easily when Isuzu asked her to.

Yes, that had been unexpected, too: Isuzu had been terribly eager.

Touya focused, taking in the situation so calmly he had surprised even himself. Minori’s earnest entreaty had mattered, but he also felt an instinctive aversion to the idea of leaving townspeople with no combat abilities on their own, even if they were just People of the Earth.

Without us there, the goblins will probably take that town out in no time flat…

Minori had told him in detail about the village chief, and how people lived. In Touya’s mind, Choushi was a town of fishermen, a peaceful, expansive place. Choushi, which was located at the mouth of the Great Zantleaf River, wasn’t a fortified city. It had no lord, and although it probably had a vigilance committee, it didn’t have knights or other forces to defend it. It was a fishing and farming town that came under the influence of both the city of Maihama and the town of Tsukuba, and up until now, it had managed to stay relatively peaceful.

Unusually for the Peninsula, the surrounding area was flatland. What would normally be a hilly area had been carved away by the Great Zantleaf River, creating a fertile, smoothly sloping plain.

The areas closer to Choushi were cultivated and had been turned into fields that seemed to be marked off in squares, like a tile mosaic. It was a lush, beautiful sight: wheat and field mustard, and a handful of rice fields.

It was submerged in night’s darkness now, but the land of Zantleaf, blown by summer sea winds, was a truly splendid place.

And now, a long procession of summer camp members stretched down the farm road that led from the abandoned school to Choushi. They were split into teams by level, or into guilds, or into groups of close friends.

Although they were traveling after sunset, even if they were newbies, they were Adventurers. Each had created a magic light, and they walked without any sign of fatigue. Some were on horseback, but since this was dangerous when you couldn’t see your feet, let alone the path, most walked.

Minori’s group was moving ahead of the very tip of that long line.

They’d walked for about thirty minutes when Minori abruptly began to speak:

“…Hey guys. I think we should protect that town.”

Touya knew Minori’s feelings.

He also wanted to protect the town, and he thought that they should.

However, there was no reason to do so.

That town was a People of the Earth settlement. It hadn’t anything to do with Minori, Touya, or the others. They hadn’t accepted a defense quest. Even if they saved the town, they wouldn’t receive any items or cash rewards.

It wasn’t even a player town. Were they close with people who lived there? No; it was only people they’d encountered for the first time once they’d arrived for the training camp.

It was strange to feel such an urgent sense of duty without a reason for reward. Still, the feeling was definitely there, as though a great rock were being rolled around in Touya’s chest.

Since he couldn’t think of a reason, he couldn’t express it well. That was all.

It was possible that the other members felt the same way. Isuzu, Rundelhaus, and Serara were all silent, lost in thought as they walked.

There was a black, murky irritation inside them. There was no way for them to shake the impossible feeling of being trapped. They resented their own powerlessness, and no matter how they struggled to escape it, their arms and legs made no progress. It was like being in a nightmare. Touya and the others seemed engulfed by this feeling of helplessness.

“Well, you see…um. There isn’t any reason we have to save them. But, I mean…” Minori also seemed to be having trouble finding the right words.

When he looked up, beyond the foothills of the mountain, up in its forests, the torch flames that seemed to be lit on the tips of needles flickered and blazed, like malice in the darkness.

“I don’t think…we can stop. It’s scary, but even so.” Isuzu’s voice was forlorn, but it held determination.

Although their levels differed, two-thirds of the players in the summer camp expedition were beginners. Some were between level 20 and 30, like Touya’s group, but others were even lower than that. In order to fight goblins, a player needed to be level 20 at least.

On top of that, they didn’t know what the enemy’s numbers were.

Nyanta had called it a midsized plunder unit, and Naotsugu had counted and said there were two hundred of them at most, but it was night, and it was hard to know how far those statements could be relied on.

There were lots of reasons to go on without saving them.

There was no reason to save them.

…But they wanted to.

As Touya and the others walked along in silence, the sound of the surf approached them, over and over. The sea might have been painted pitch-black; only the cresting waves that broke on the beach gleamed white, reflecting the moonlight.

As Touya drifted in the sound of the waves and the light of the moon, a thought abruptly occurred to him, a realization too modest to be called insight.

“Do we need a reason?”

“Huh?”

The blank question had come from Serara.

“Can’t we just save them, without a reason?”

An odd, rather dumbfounded silence followed Touya’s words.

“I think it’s fine if we save them for no reason. I mean, we’re Adventurers, right? Adventurers are called that ’cos they adventure. If we want to save them, I dunno why we can’t do it without a reason.”

As he spoke, the vague emotions inside Touya took shape. That’s right, he thought. What was I worrying about?

Why had he been looking for a reason?

Had he been planning to justify his actions to someone?

No reason should be necessary to justify helping those who needed it in the first place.

“See what I mean? You, too, Minori. Guys. If we want to save them, let’s just do it. Right? Because, I mean, we want to!”

Touya threw out his chest, practically shouting.

“Well said!” The first one to respond to Touya’s words was Rundelhaus. He nodded firmly and set a hand on Touya’s shoulder, expressing approval as though to shake off the silence of a moment ago. “Heh-heh-heh. To be honest, it seems that even I had lost my composure You’re right. We are Adventurers. If we took to our heels now, we’d never know why we became Adventurers in the first place. That would have been getting our priorities backward. …Goblins! What can they do, anyway?!”

Rundelhaus shrugged off a concerned Isuzu’s hand. “Even I am an Adventurer, in a minor way. I have no intention of shamelessly fleeing back to Akiba without saving the village!”

“W-wait just a minute! How?! How are we going to protect the village? It doesn’t have a town wall, and the enemy is twice our size!”

As Touya and Rundelhaus hit it off, Serara broke in with a protesting shriek.

“Minori’ll figure that part out.”

“What?”

At Touya’s abrupt through pass, Minori’s eyes went round, as though he’d caught her by surprise. Touya felt a bit bad about throwing her a curve ball like that one, but if he didn’t get Minori fired up as well, this enthusiasm would go to waste.

Getting Minori fired up was Touya’s job.

As her twin, he knew that throwing her curve balls was the best way to do it.

“…Protect. Town wall… Can’t. …The number of enemies… No.”

Minori began muttering to herself. Touya saw her lips move: What would Shiroe do…? It made him feel very slightly bewildered, alongside a ticklish kind of joy. If his big sister was thinking like this, they had nothing to worry about.

Three steps, five steps.

As Touya and the others watched, Minori stopped in her tracks, then nodded once.

“I’ve got it… There is a way.”

Yeah, that’s how Minori’s gotta be.

Touya’s big sister was a very responsible type. Before, he’d felt as if she was fragile, as though the weight of that responsibility was liable to crush her. However, conversely, he thought it was Minori’s strength as well. Since joining Log Horizon, it seemed to Touya that Minori had learned to convert that sense of responsibility into the power to move forward.

It was probably due to the way she idolized Shiroe. Touya idolized Naotsugu in the same way—as both a warrior and a man—so he understood her keenly.

“A way?” Serara asked Minori; she sounded nervous.

“Let’s hear it, Mademoiselle Minori.”

Rundelhaus and Isuzu, whose expressions were conflicted, gathered around Minori as well.

“There aren’t enough of us to protect Choushi from the goblins. …Even if it was just the goblins, and it isn’t: There are sahuagins, too. They’ve got more than twice our numbers. We don’t even know if we’ll all be able to fight. Besides—even if we managed to protect it, if the fields are ruined, it’s sure to do great damage to the townspeople. And so… We can’t protect it.”

Minori’s words were decisive, and their strength made even her brother Touya lose his voice.

Her hard-hearted words left every one of her friends speechless.

Minori looked around, as if confirming their expressions. Then, suddenly, she whirled around as though she’d been stung.

“Oh…”

“Hm. Mewr instincts have gotten better, Minoricchi.”

“We young gents are patrolling to make sure none of you kids are trying to pull a fast one without permission!”

“I happen to be an old gent, thank mew.”

“Nyanta!”

It was Nyanta and Naotsugu. Behind them, a short distance away, they saw Shouryuu and Lezarik as well. Serara had already latched on to Nyanta’s thin, taut arm and was nearly hanging from it.

“Master Naotsugu!”

Touya also straightened up, on reflex. It wasn’t that Naotsugu was the type of teacher who was strict about manners; the issue was Touya’s mind-set. In front of this veteran Guardian, he naturally tended to stand up straight. Of course, ordinarily, even Touya and Naotsugu had careless locker-room conversations.

“Nyanta…”

Minori’s expression was a little troubled, but she wasn’t about to back down. Looking up at Nyanta with a force that nearly made it a glare, she bowed her head: “Please give us permission.”

“Yeah. The manly thing is to keep quiet and let us go this time, Captain Nyanta and Master Naotsugu.”

Touya came to stand beside Minori.

He was sure Minori had hit on something. Because she idolized Shiroe, because she’d tried to learn everything in order to follow in his footsteps, there was no doubt that she was harboring some way to break out of the situation. In that case, Touya couldn’t let Minori stand in the line of fire alone.

“Permission? No, Adventurers are free. If mew’ve truly made up your minds, it doesn’t matter whether your enemy’s level is higher or mew’re part of our guild. Adventurers have the freedom to carry through. Only… That in itself is quite difficult, Minoricchi.”

Nyanta spoke as if he understood everything, and Minori nodded.

“All right. The nights are short—especially in summer. The pack is on the move, so mew’d best hurry. Understood, Minoricchi?”

Nyanta gave a skillful wink, with Serara still hanging from his left arm. Upon hearing him, Touya and Minori exchanged looks, then bumped their fists together.

2

“Approaching from the east ridge. One squad. One more unit forty behind them, and two units to the northeast, as expected.”

In the nighttime forest, the shadows of the trees were jet-black in the moonlight.

Minori had called down from a treetop. She was peering intently through a pair of binoculars she’d borrowed from Naotsugu.

“Roger that.”

“Understood. I’ll begin chanting.”

Minori’s group was on a forested ridge not far from the Great Zantleaf River. The time was near midnight. Off the leaf-mold-covered track that wasn’t quite a forest path nor farm road, in a grove about the size of a gymnasium on top of a rounded hill, Minori and the others lay in wait, holding their breath.

Minori had climbed a large tree that resembled a sturdy Japanese zelkova and was currently looking in all directions and reporting what she found to her friends, who waited on the ground. She used the binoculars to help her work as a long-range monitor.

Touya had had a Damage Interception barrier cast on him, and he was sprinting through the darkness, relying on the mirrorlike effect of the barrier spell.

He’d gone to draw in the goblin unit from the east ridge. Before long, the sharp twang of a bowstring echoed in the darkness, followed by the screams of the goblins and a sound as if someone was pushing through the undergrowth, coming closer.

Touya had received all-round combat training at Log Horizon that included projectile weapons, even though they weren’t very practical in dungeons. It wasn’t as if Samurai were ill suited to bows and arrows; in fact, they were able to equip both longbows and recurve bows, which were for use on horseback. This time, Touya had used a longbow to get the attention of the distant goblins, and he was now attempting to lure them back to Minori’s group.

“…Approaching. As anticipated, two units have noticed.”

At Minori’s warning call, her companions readied their various weapons and took up fighting stances. In open spaces, the distance at which battles began naturally widened, which, understandably, necessitated a change from the combat methods they’d used in the cramped dungeon. When monsters and Adventurers caught sight of each other at a distance, it was only natural that projectile battles broke out as a preliminary to hand-to-hand fighting.

However, one problem with long-distance battles was that they drew attention from the surrounding area. The bow attack had put the goblins on their guard, attracting two squads—probably about ten goblins—to them. Minori had come to that conclusion from the flickering torches and the sounds of parting undergrowth; it wasn’t possible to accurately grasp numbers in the darkness.

“Countdown, please.”

Serara’s voice was tense.

Through the binoculars, Minori strained her eyes in the darkness. The night was lit by moonlight, and a faint phosphorescence had begun to appear. Moon Fay Drops were midlevel eyedrops that could be made by an Apothecary. They cost quite a bit, but all you had to do was put them in your eyes and you’d be able to see as well as a cat, even in the dark, for twenty-four hours. They’d gotten them from Naotsugu before beginning this operation.

“Five…four…three…two…”

Minori focused her nerves and began the countdown.

Serara loaded the spell she’d had waiting into her staff, then—at Minori’s “Zero”—activated it.

At a point about thirty meters away from Minori and the others, the trees suddenly rustled and the weeds writhed, beginning to grow thicker.

Druid was one of the three Recovery classes.

Each Recovery class had its own unique recovery spells, but they were distinguished from the others by more than just recovery properties.

As their name suggested, Druids used forest magic. The source of the magic they used lay in the mysteries of nature. This characteristic wasn’t as obvious in dungeons, but when they were outdoors like this, the latent magic in nature held hidden power for them that couldn’t be ignored. Since Druid wasn’t a Magic Attack class, the power of their spells that dealt direct damage was weak, but in return, they were able to wield a variety of strong, unconventional magic.

Willow Spirits—the spell Serara had chanted—acted on the surrounding plants, making leaves and vines grow. They would wrap around the enemy and limit their movements.

“Here they come.”

Flinging his catalpa bow under the trees, Touya drew his katana, gazing forward steadily. Minori had gauged the distance before activation so that the obstacle spell Serara had set earlier would only tangle around the second unit. That meant that beating down the first group of goblins was Touya and Rundelhaus’s job.

“I can see clearly. The opening move is yours. Do it well, Touya.”

During their recent team training, Rundelhaus seemed to have adopted a new mind-set.

He probably understood that his turn would come even if he let Touya go first. He no longer chose attack spells hastily, and he didn’t show off. Even now, he was chanting the spell Icicle Blade to increase the attack power of Touya’s katana.

When Rundelhaus’s chant ended, freezing cold air gathered around Touya’s katana, and it gleamed with a clear light in the darkness.

“That isn’t like an Enchanter’s spell. It will only add additional damage for a few attacks, so make sure you start with a large one.”

In response to Rundelhaus’s instructions, Touya nodded.

He’s right. We’ll have to finish them off quick.

The enemy was goblins, and they were stronger than Skeletons. On top of that, if they took time here, the second unit would probably slip free of their bindings and come after them. Serara’s obstacle spell affected the land over a wide range, hampering monsters’ movements, but it didn’t last that long.

In addition, it wasn’t just the one following squad; there were still lots of goblins lurking in the surrounding mountains and forests.

Two hundred at most, Nyanta had said, but even that was questionable. Many presences squirmed in the shadow-blackened forest tonight, and it was hard to imagine just how many enemies there were in this darkness.

“You save your big moves for later, Rudy, and keep them on the defensive with lots of smaller moves. I’ll back you up for thirty seconds, but that’s it… Maestro Echo!!”

Having steeled herself, Isuzu cast her support spell, and Touya and Rudy rushed the goblins.

Swords and spells danced wildly.

Understanding Isuzu’s instructions, Rundelhaus abandoned powerful, stand-alone attacks in favor of a rapid series of lighter spells. In exchange for inflicting less damage, these lighter spells had short cast and recast times. They were spells that could be used back-to-back.

Once he’d discarded huge spells that took about five seconds to chant, Rundelhaus’s serial magic attacks consisted of spells that were ready every second and a half, on average. Isuzu’s perfect tremolo style turned each mad dance of flame and ice into a circular round.

Deep crimson notes for flame impacts. Marine blue notes for ice impacts.

Isuzu’s own attack power was fairly low, however, given that she was a Bard.

That was the fate of all support classes, and there wasn’t much to do about the characteristic.

On the other hand, there were things she could do precisely because this was so.

Based on the information her five senses gave her, Isuzu ad-libbed copies of Rundelhaus’s spells and sang them with a slight delay.

This was a hidden Bard technique: the ability to copy other players’ magical attacks and reproduce them on the spot.

Sorcerers had explosive attack power to begin with. What happened when all that power was doubled? The multilayer barrage, which even Isuzu’s throat managed to sustain for only thirty seconds, annihilated the goblins in the blink of an eye.

When the second wave of goblins came, they attacked Touya and inflicted many injuries, but Minori’s Damage Interception spell negated them, and the damage that did slip by was dealt with by the recovery spell she chanted immediately afterward. With the arrival of the two Recovery classes, who had switched roles, and Rundelhaus, who’d finished preparing for his big move, the group managed to wipe out ten goblins.

3

“Yeah. They’re tough, but… ’S nothing we can’t handle.”

At Touya’s words, Serara, who’d been treating him, suddenly said, “You mustn’t get careless.”

Isuzu took a swallow of tea from her canteen, then handed it to Rundelhaus, who was retying his bootlaces. Accepting it, Rundelhaus admonished Serara: “Carelessness isn’t good, Mademoiselle Serara, but if you caution against courage, victory will slip through your fingers.”

While the four of them caught their breath, Minori was in the center of the group, desperately struggling with a folded map. Shiroe had given it to her when the summer camp began, saying, I don’t expect you to need it, but… It was a highly accurate map centered on the Zantleaf Peninsula, and it showed the ruined city of Eastal and the town of Tsukuba.

Even though Minori could see in the dark, it was hard to make out the contents of the map, and so she’d used Bug Light to summon a lamp. She was now hiding in the bushes to keep the light from showing.

Over her shoulder, Serara’s voice continued abruptly:

“Yes… Yes. We’re fine. We’re taking a short break now. You’re heading north-northwest, aren’t you? All right… About three kilometers, yes. I understand. You and the others take care too, Nyanta.”

It seemed Serara was telechatting.

The maneuver Minori and the others had chosen was simplicity itself.

They planned to infiltrate the goblin plunder unit in the forested hills and strike from the inside.

If it was impossible to protect the town, they’d just have to attack ahead of time. They would use the forest in which the goblins were hiding to their own advantage and battle at night. There was no need to wipe out the entire unit.

Although goblins were vicious, too, unlike Skeletons they were demihumans. If the Adventurers struck hard enough, they’d probably damage the goblins’ will to fight, and some might desert.

Even in terms of defending the town, if they cut down their numbers with a preemptive surprise attack, it would be much easier to protect it all the way to the end. It was a savage, almost desperate strategy, but at present, it was working far better than they’d expected.

That was the outline of the maneuver. If Nyanta and Naotsugu hadn’t fine-tuned it and loaned them items, it probably wouldn’t have gone this well. After all, Nyanta and the others were also deep in the forest, fighting separately from Minori’s group.

Nyanta, Naotsugu, Shouryuu, and Lezarik were in an area where the fighting was much fiercer compared to where Minori’s group was: They’d practically rushed into the center of the Goblin plunder tribe.

Nyanta’s party of high-level players had, in fact, charged into the heart of the goblin unit. They had annihilated over and over, drawing attention to themselves. Minori’s group was waiting farther south, attacking goblin units that had made it past Nyanta’s group, along with any terrified, confused, or isolated squads. Two hours had already passed since the operation began.

In those two hours, Minori’s group had defeated around twenty goblins. Lone goblin scouts were actually more trouble than organized squadrons of five or six, because it was often hard to tell what they were trying to do.

Come to think of it, their own maneuver had been an arbitrary act, too: They’d failed to discuss it with Marielle of the Crescent Moon League, who was in charge of the summer camp. Of course Minori felt terribly bad about that, but she’d tried not to think about it too much. When she’d reported in via telechat a little while ago, Marielle had read her the riot act, but she thought there was really no help for that.

This operation was built on the premise that most of their forces would be left in Choushi as a defensive unit. The fewer strike units there were, and the more confusion and damage they caused the goblin plunder unit, the more the gap between the power of the town security forces and the goblin attack units would shrink, and in turn, the higher the likelihood that the goblins would give up.

Minori’s words probably hadn’t convinced Marielle, but even so, at the end, she’d forgiven her: “Aw, for the love of—! You better be careful out there, or you’re gonna live to regret it, you hear?!” (At any rate, she thought that had been forgiveness.)

“I think we’ve wiped out the enemy around here. Maybe we should move.”

Isuzu had taken over Minori’s binoculars and was looking through them.

“To the northwest… Oh! That’s amazing—they’re traveling really quietly,” she continued to report, sounding impressed.

Nyanta’s impromptu party had Naotsugu and Lezarik as its vertical axis, with Shouryuu and Nyanta as the attackers. In other words, it was built around two Swashbucklers.

Swashbucklers were the type that earned damage through attack speed. With two of them, it had been possible to conduct successive attacks across a wide range, without the magical attacks’ glaring lights or explosions. In an extermination battle fought in the woods, they could display terrifying efficiency.

Okay, um… Move three kilometers north-northwest, then climb the ridge… They’re heading for the ruined shrine from before… Yeah, that’s it. In that case, we’ll avoid the forest road…

That had meant going down into the valley, but the route would take them sideways, over the opposite ridge.

“What do we do? Minori?”

As everyone’s eyes focused on her, Minori folded the map and stood up, nodding firmly.

“We’ll go down into the valley for a bit, moving from west to northwest. Stay on the alert as we travel.”

The party began to move, following the plan.

They received regular reports from Nyanta, which they then passed on to Marielle. Was Marielle speaking with Choushi’s People of the Earth, in turn? Had the other summer camp members already used Call of Home and returned to Akiba instead? No, they thought, a few must have stayed behind for Choushi’s sake…

As they walked along in the darkness, an indescribable unease and a sense that all their work was in vain threatened to surge into Minori’s heart.

It sounded as though what they were fighting now was only a portion of the huge goblin army. Minori didn’t know the details, but from what she’d overheard from Nyanta, the incident had begun with a huge outbreak of goblin tribes in the north, and they’d already closed in on the ruined city of Eastal.

In other words, the plunder unit they were fighting now was only a small part of the main goblin army. In fact, they could probably consider it an undisciplined group of irregulars.

When she began to think like that, futility welled up inside her.

Even if they beat back this plunder unit, it might be no more than a drop in the bucket. Wouldn’t they just be buying time? The doubt billowed up like a black cloud, and she couldn’t stop it.

“This’s scary stuff. Fighting at night.”

Touya, who was walking in front of her, spoke quietly.

“The silver streaks of light from my blade get in my eyes. Sure, I can see in the dark, but I’m still afraid I’m gonna trip on a root or in the mud and lose my balance. My heart pounds like a jackhammer, and the stink of blood is nasty—but.”

Touya didn’t turn around.

He was at the head of the line, and without breaking concentration, he pushed his way through gaps between the trees on a path that couldn’t even be called a deer track, steadily descending into the valley.

“But it’s okay if we do our best… It’s okay if we save them.”

Touya’s voice was like a light in the darkness.

Minori raised her eyes.

She looked at her little brother’s back. Somewhere in his heart, he really had been thinking, We have to protect them. We have to save them. In him, Minori could see a strength she didn’t possess. Touya’s will was simple and straightforward, and even if he wavered, he got there quickly enough to shake it off.

“Yes. That’s enough, isn’t it.”

Isuzu was the first to agree.

I knew it…

If Isuzu, who usually took things at her own speed, was agreeing like that, then Minori’s guess was right on the mark. Isuzu had been hesitant right up until they began fighting—she’d been worried about Rundelhaus. Which meant that they couldn’t lose this battle.

Rundelhaus was Minori’s friend, too, after all. In order to protect his pride and his secret, in order to save his friends, Minori and the others had to come here.

“What are you saying, Touya and Mademoiselle Isuzu? That’s only natural. As if anyone could abandon someone who’d collapsed in front of him and still call himself an Adventurer! I’ll do what I want to do, as I see fit. I became an Adventurer because I wanted to be someone spectacular.”

Rundelhaus continued, indignantly.

Touya answered him, vigorously.

Minori watched over all of them.

Damage Interception spells weren’t recovery spells.

On the contrary: The way Minori saw it, they weren’t even magic.

They were a vow that one would protect one’s companions to the end. The determination of a Kannagi. If Minori’s friends were standing on a battlefield, she’d shoulder all the danger that came their way, protecting them so thoroughly they’d never even realize the aggression had occurred.

I don’t have a lot of experience yet…and there isn’t much I can do, but…

Still, she thought.

Even so, she thought.

She didn’t plan to use woolly-headed words like someday. She would get that power. Tomorrow, even. Maybe today.

As a result, she didn’t have time to be afraid of the darkness in front of her.

“Look sharp.”

Isuzu’s hushed voice pulled Minori’s mind back to reality.

With narrowed eyes, Isuzu was looking at the end of the ridge. All that was there was vast, pitch-black forest without a single light in it, but the Bard’s keen senses seemed to have found something in that darkness.

Giving a small hand signal, she left the front of the line and began scouting.

“They’re magical beasts… I don’t know what type, but I can see goblins riding creatures that look like big dogs,” Isuzu reported in a small voice.

The wind that crossed the valley would probably keep their scent and voices from reaching the ridge. That was an advantage, but on the other hand, the enemy had the high ground, and that hurt.

“Three beasts and three goblins…” Minori murmured. “Dire Wolves. …They’re a powerful enemy.”

She’d acquired basic knowledge from Shiroe’s lessons. Dire Wolves were a larger, more dangerous variety of wolf. However, although they might be wolves, they weren’t a wild species. They were full-fledged monsters, driven mad by mana and the moon, and their combat abilities were twice those of normal wolves.

“Weak points?”

“They don’t have many. In this situation, we might be able to use…flashes and loud noises, I think, but that’s about all. And those will probably only work once, too.”

Minori answered Rundelhaus’s question briefly.

Still, the group didn’t hesitate. Even if they had, there was nowhere to run.

“Let’s go. Rudy, you be the attack’s main axis. We’ll win by protecting him. Minori, you cast Damage Interception on him, too. Isuzu, you follow Rudy’s lead.”

After Touya summed up everyone else’s views, the party made for the ridge, paying close attention to the direction of the wind.

The moon was high in the sky. The long night had only just begun.

4

That night, at the Ancient Court of Eternal Ice.

The preliminary talk, which had begun in the middle of the night, dragged on, swallowed by a gloomy, oppressive atmosphere. It had been announced as being for “anyone who wished to attend,” but nearly all the lords and counselors of the League of Free Cities were there, along with the three representatives—delegate and vice delegates—of the Round Table Council. That meant that it was a “discussion” among the same members as the great conference.

Ordinarily, with that many participants, even if they were quiet, their slight movements and coughs would have given the place a somewhat restless atmosphere. However, today, no one made a sound. It was as if they were afraid of pulling some sort of trigger.

The topic of discussion was “The Recent State of Security in the Northern Yamato Archipelago.”

The conference had been convened by Baron Clendit, lord of the town of Utsurugi-Shinzen. That said, it was obvious to everyone that, rather than proposing the meeting himself, the baron had been swept away by the situation or caved under pressure and had had this important role thrust upon him.

As the one who had convened the meeting, the baron was presiding over it, but he was so flustered it was hard to look at him. As Shiroe watched, he kept incessantly fidgeting with his black whiskers and wiping away greasy sweat.

“You may well say that, but…”

“Hmm…”

“Haaah…”

The conference skated around and around the edge of the apparent topic, without making any progress.

“The army of goblins that sprang forth in the northeastern region of the Yamato Archipelago has departed from Seventh Fall…and…erm… Has, uh, laid waste to my territory… Yes.”

Even so, having been forced to the top by the rest and speaking in a cracked, shaking voice, Baron Clendit had mentioned the topic several dozen minutes ago, and hadn’t managed to develop it at all since.

It’s probably an attempt by the lords to get us to bring up the subject ourselves so they can extract information or concessions from us somehow. Either that, or they may be trying to leverage our responsibility for not having captured Seventh Fall, or our sense of guilt…

As he observed the many lords that were present, Shiroe speculated. The lords’ faces held all sorts of expressions: fear, resignation, anger, supplication…

They seemed far from relaxed. One whose attitude was fidgety and restless, and who sometimes turned resentful, hate-filled eyes on the Round Table Council members, was Marquis Kilivar, the lord of Tsukuba.

Tsukuba… That’s one of the places closest to the goblin army, along with Maihama. It’s practically on the front line. On top of that, compared to Maihama, the largest city in the east, its military strength is poor, and its wall can’t be that sturdy. …I hear it’s a town of magic-users, too, built around a school for philosophers. I’d imagine he has a few thoughts about us.

“Ah… Ahem, harrumph! And so, for these reasons… At present, this invasion of demihumans, this unparalleled disaster, iiiis, as an urgent situation, occurring here, in our Eastal, the League of Free Cities. With regard to this state of affairs…”

Baron Clendit’s verbose presentation began again, but this time, the murmur of whispered conversations didn’t stop. Both the lords and the civil servants who waited behind them were talking to nearby companions in hushed voices. Each individual voice was low enough to keep the words from being heard, but together, they made for an undeniably agitated atmosphere.

When he glanced to the side, Michitaka gave an exaggerated shrug.

If this kept up, the conference wouldn’t take shape.

However, even so, when they considered the future of the Round Table Council, giving in on their end would be conceding too much.

“Could someone who’s familiar with the movements of the Knights of Izumo be kind enough to inform me of them?”

With no way around it, Shiroe spoke. The conference room had been on the verge of growing noisy, but his words seemed to abruptly dash cold water on it. Some of the lords’ eyes went perfectly round, and they stared at Shiroe with their mouths half open.

What a reaction… What is this? Do the People of the Earth think we’re brainless monkeys? …Ahh, good grief. I suppose there’s no help for that. Up until a little while ago, we were underestimating them as NPCs, too. I guess this makes us even. That said… Apparently the Knights of Izumo really aren’t in a situation where they’re able to move. Not only that, but… Would simply not being able to move warrant a reaction like this? Is there a deeper reason?

“The— The Knights of Izumo are the guardian deities of Yamato. They mustn’t be summoned for a battle like this one. Never mind that, let me pose a question to the gentlemen of Akiba’s Round Table Council: Why have you not risen up in Yamato’s time of crisis? I am told that the knights under Sir Krusty’s command are incomparably powerful. Does the Round Table Council not intend to dispatch troops for this incident?”

“We thought the conference was being held in order to hear each of the lord’s opinions on that. Did you hold it to get Akiba’s opinion? The Round Table Council’s decision was to gather more information.”

Michitaka answered brusquely, scratching his head.

His attitude seemed to say that they were attending the meeting, after all, and they didn’t mind being asked for comments, but it was irritating to be used as a device to divert the discussion.

“I hear the knights of Akiba are invincible in both the east and the west,” added a skinny noble whose name they didn’t know, in what was nearly a yell.

“I’m not sure what sort of rumors you’ve heard, but neither the Round Table Council nor the town of Akiba has the sort of standing army or chivalric order you seem to be thinking of.”

Shiroe shrugged his shoulders in something approaching disgust.

He finally understood that, particularly for the People of the Earth, “chivalric orders” were the standard unit of military force for war in this world. Their knights weren’t elite soldiers who rode on horseback; they were professional soldiers. It didn’t seem to be too much of a stretch to consider that “chivalric order” meant “a specific military force that was always standing by for combat.”

In this world, where the Adventurers existed, you almost never heard the word mercenaries. In addition, militias made up of ordinary citizens who’d armed themselves were only seen defending farming villages. This was apparently due to the fact that the lords weren’t comfortable with the idea of armed farmers.

In other words, chivalric orders were the only type of military force the nobles could understand.

However, Shiroe didn’t feel that that meant the town of Akiba had to match their style.

“Then what the devil are the Adventurers for?!” Marquis Kilivar railed with bloodshot eyes, and Michitaka reacted:

“‘What are the Adventurers for?’ …What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That should be obvious. The Adventurers’ abilities are a divine favor, granted by the gods. You have a duty to save the land!”

“I don’t recall hearing anything about it.”

“Don’t be daft! Immortal, indestructible! With abilities like that, you still intend to neglect your duty to the world?! Shame, gentlemen! You’re blessed with such a wealth of abilities— How can you be so arrogant?!”

“—Don’t give me that crap!”

Michitaka’s bellow resounded, making the air shiver.

Before beginning this conference, as they talked with each other and discussed the intelligence that had been gathered since noon, they had examined the memory loss in detail. …That, along with the possibility of going to war.

Certainly, the idea of missing memories was terrifying. Losing memories of the old world would be as lonely as losing their birthplace and getting lost in this other world. Still, that said, it was clear that they couldn’t avoid living here.

To Shiroe and the other Adventurers, even death no longer meant “the end.” There was no telling how long it would last, but… For now, the only way open to them was to live a life without end.

Since that was the case, even if they managed to avoid sending soldiers to meet the Goblin army, they’d inevitably be pulled into a war they couldn’t avoid someday, somewhere. The Round Table Council had been unanimous on that point. If they had to fight somewhere, it would be fine to rise up in this clash with the Goblin King, although of course they’d need to figure their odds of victory. They had decided that they were prepared for it, and had placed that authority in the hands of the three who were in charge of on-site negotiations.

However, letting themselves be unilaterally used would set a bad precedent. Shiroe had stressed that easily providing soldiers would scar not only the Round Table Council and Akiba, but, in the future, the League of Free Cities. There was nothing wrong with joining forces, but it would have to be done through the proper channels.

Then they’d gone over their roles for that night’s conference.

Shiroe would approve of sending soldiers from the Round Table Council, drawing out information as he did so.

Michitaka would oppose sending soldiers from the Round Table Council, extracting concessions.

Krusty would make the final decision.

In other words, when Michitaka had taken exception to Marquis Kilivar’s demand for troops, it had technically been in line with the scenario. However, Michitaka’s bellow had exuded more anger than the acting had planned on.

…I guess that’s only to be expected after hearing, “You’re immortal, so there’s no risk. Since there’s no risk, get to work…”

Now that the Adventurers were aware of the memory loss, language like that was enough to incur their wrath. It was no wonder Michitaka was angry.

Is it the arrogance of the weak regarding the strong…? No, that’s not funny at all. We may have gotten arrogant, too, while we weren’t paying attention…

“First off, we’re not lords in your League of Free Cities. We haven’t gone through that ceremony deal we need in order to participate yet. That’s why we weren’t called to the full conference yesterday. Am I right?”

Michitaka kept talking, fixing them with a hard glare from his intense eyes.

They knew from Akatsuki’s investigations that the lords had convened in secret the previous night.

The lords’ spies had kept her from learning what was being discussed, but from the way this meeting was progressing, it was self-evident.

“That’s fine. We haven’t actually been decorated or whatever yet, and that’s a fact. However, gentlemen, is it right for you nobles to conduct a full conference by yourselves, then demand one-sided cooperation from the Round Table Council and Akiba? Are you telling us we have a duty to submit to demands from a conference we didn’t participate in? What do you think, Baron Clendit?”

“That’s not… It was never intended that you… I mean, you do not. You have it all wrong, Sir Michitaka.”

“I’m not a ‘sir.’ Like I keep telling you, we haven’t been decorated.”

“P-please don’t say such things. …You believe we, the lords of the League of Free Cities, are…colluding? With each other… That we are relying on numbers and demanding that the town of Akiba send soldiers? That is most decidedly not the case, and…”

Michitaka’s ferocity left poor Baron Clendit discombobulated and at a loss for words.

“Hm. Then demanding soldiers from Akiba was an arbitrary decision by Marquis Kilivar and had nothing to do with the general consensus of the League of Free Cities. Is that what you’re saying?”

Shiroe responded to Baron Clendit’s words.

At that, it was Marquis Kilivar’s turn to lose his composure.

“Wha—?! Do you mean to say that I, blinded by personal interest, would arbitrarily advance matters regarding an incident like this?! Gentlemen! Count Kashiwazaki! Marquis Taihaku! Elder Suwa Lakeside!! Why will you not say anything to the Adventurers?!”

“Well…”

“Certainly, it is not the general consensus. It isn’t… But. At the very least, it is true that we have heard such voices in our midst, and that there are a significant number of them. Or do you intend to tell us that Akiba’s proud, ultimate forces care nothing for Yamato’s calamity?”

A greasy, middle-aged lord pressed Michitaka in a voice that seemed to cling stickily.

“We’re not dogs or cats. ‘You don’t die, so go clear out the goblins’? Is that what you’re telling us? As if anyone who went along with hogwash like that and drove his comrades out onto the battlefield could gain the trust of the people of Akiba!”

Michitaka was on the verge of completely blowing his top. Shiroe pulled his arm, drawing him back into his chair.

As far as their roles were concerned, it wasn’t a problem if Michitaka objected. Still, if he let his emotions get the better of him and kept yelling like this, and the information about the memory loss got leaked to the People of the Earth, things could get troublesome.

Hm… This isn’t good…

Shiroe thought he’d made a bit of a blunder.

Marquis Kilivar and Michitaka’s confrontation had completely deadlocked the conference. Personally, Shiroe didn’t mind sending troops or cooperating with this expedition. In fact, ultimately, he thought they’d need to cooperate.

Given the option, he’d intended to take a bit more time to search for common ground, but a fissure had developed in the conference before he’d had the chance. As things stood, it would be hard for him to add his opinion.

Come to think of it, it was a mistake to say we’d draw out compromises without setting specific goals… Capital, for example, or economic cooperation, or possibly the conclusion of a treaty. Either way, going in without setting targets was a bad move.

An oppressive mood hung over the frozen conference.

Even Old Duke Sergiad was unable to speak in an atmosphere like this one. Just as Shiroe, racking his brains, was about to attempt to raise a question somehow… Without warning, the big double doors opened.

A lovely girl entered, bringing with her a cool wind that must have been blowing through the corridor.

The girl, who wore a dress the color of a pale dawn and had put up her silver hair, was Raynesia.

5

Raynesia was mentally kicking herself.

As a matter of fact, she’d been kicking herself absolutely nonstop for a while now.

Raynesia was kicking herself so assiduously that if those who knew her as she usually was could have seen her, they would have wept sentimental tears. Setting aside the fact that, since kicking oneself is usually an unproductive act, the adjective assiduously is not generally used to describe it…

Raynesia didn’t have the wherewithal to pay attention to little things like that today.

For instance, the great hall was even bigger than she’d imagined.

To be perfectly honest, Raynesia had been listening to what was going on from an adjoining room.

Of course, as the daughter of a duke, Raynesia would never do something as ill-mannered as eavesdropping (and did not have the skills for it). Elissa was the one who had done the listening.

Although she’d burst in as though compelled to do so by the way the conference was going, her knees were quaking, and her heart was hammering. As a young lady of the aristocracy, Raynesia excelled at smiling elegantly and dancing in public, but this was the first time she’d ever made an appearance at a political affair like this one. What was more, there hadn’t been any plans for her to do so in the future.

Aristocratic culture held sway over the League of Free Cities, and the nobles did not consider women, particularly unmarried women, to be full-fledged adults. She had never been allowed to speak on an occasion like this one, and no doubt she never would be. Raynesia had been raised to be “an ideal, modest, ladylike young woman,” and so she knew this very well. It was one of the reasons the incident she was in the middle of perpetrating frightened her.

However, something in Raynesia’s heart had pushed her into motion, and it wouldn’t allow her to hide in the shadows of her parents or the knights.

So even while, internally, Raynesia perspired great drops of cold sweat, outwardly she crossed to the center of the conference room on graceful feet.

“That’s…”

“As beautiful as ever…”

“That’s Duke Cowen’s granddaughter, Princess Raynesia, isn’t it?”

“She’s like a lake naiad on a moonlit night.”

The conference room held not only the lords, but many young knights and advisers as well. They’d become Raynesia’s admirers at first sight on the night of the ball, and these were the sort of things they were whispering to each other.

Of course, some of the gazes went past curiosity: contemptible gazes, sullied with lust.

The soft, oval outline of her cheeks. Her large eyes, filled with melancholy. The neat bridge of her nose. Her spun-silver hair was swept up today, and it harmonized beautifully with a dress that generously disclosed the beautiful line from the nape of her neck to her collarbones. Her limbs seemed slender, but their curves were quite feminine enough. The combination of all these things meant there was no one who would argue that she was not the most beautiful princess in the Free Cities.

On top of that, marrying her meant inheriting the Cowen dukedom, which boasted what was no doubt the greatest or second-greatest power in all Yamato. It was only natural that she should receive not only looks of pure longing and yearning, but proposals stained with greed.

Inside the conference room, tables had been set up in a U-shape. At the end of the room, in the center of the table that formed the short side of the U, was Baron Clendit. He was probably conducting the conference proceedings. Next to him was her grandfather, Sergiad.

Even to his granddaughter, Sergiad always seemed to be a strict, frightening grandfather. As she prayed that he’d let her get away with this, just for today, she advanced to the center of the room, then gracefully bent her knee in the traditional greeting. First to the center, then to the east. Finally to the west.

Her thoughts had been frozen for a while now.

It was as if her head had been stuffed with cotton. She couldn’t think. The elegance with which she performed the courtesies was like that of an automated doll, something she’d acquired after long training. “The real Raynesia,” who was watching it, was hiding in the depths of her heart, quaking and shivering, panicking and holding an (imaginary) cushion over her head.

However, the instant she straightened up and raised her eyes, they met those of her target.

The paragon of rudeness whom she’d met nearly every day over this past week or so. The hypocritically courteous giant. The mind-reading menace. The devilish tormentor in the guise of a battle-tried knight.

Krusty, the representative of the Round Table Council.

To Raynesia, Krusty’s frame was so large it seemed practically colossal. He was wearing jet-black clothes with very little ornamentation, and even in the midst of this hopeless conference, his usual expression was firmly in place.

In other words: the mean-spirited expression where he hid his eyes behind thin, rectangular glasses and wore a smile so faint it was barely there at all.

Raynesia watched Krusty steadily.

Krusty also looked back at Raynesia, but before long, he whispered, hardly seeming to move his lips:

“Your chronic ‘idleness’ is better today, then?”

Was there any need to ask something so obvious?

It wasn’t better at all.

She wanted to head straight back to her comfortable room. She wanted to change into her flannel pajamas—the well-worn set, the ones that were getting stretched out of shape, which was exactly what made them so supremely comfy as far as Raynesia was concerned—and laze around in bed.

She wanted to nap to her heart’s content, without talking to anybody. After that, she wanted to crawl out of bed, eat lunch without really bothering to wash her face, then go right back to sleep.

…And so she gazed steadily at Krusty.

She didn’t have the presence of mind to smile her usual elegant-noblewoman’s smile.

She only watched Krusty, disgracefully, gritting her teeth, her lips drawn. On some level, Raynesia could feel Elissa behind her, worrying, but she didn’t even have the leeway to pay attention to that. She kept staring into Krusty’s eyes.

The conference room began to buzz.

What was this sudden turn of events?

The lords thought it might have been instigated by the leading lord, Duke Sergiad. Unable to stand the silence, dubious murmurs began to escape them.

“Raynesi…”

“Master Krusty.”

Interrupting her grandfather’s words without even looking at him, Raynesia spoke to the young foreigner.

She was hoping that her voice wouldn’t tremble.

Even as she felt a vague premonition that once she’d said it, things might never be the same again, Raynesia spoke to Krusty, prepared to abandon everything.

This man isn’t human. He’s a menace. He’s a monster, so…

Even as she shivered internally, she remembered the peaceful atmosphere Krusty wore. The tranquil air of the man who’d spent so long with her and hadn’t once tried to connect with her as an individual. The nearly supernatural insight of the man who’d never said a single kind word to her.

Right. His sociability and his hypocrisy.

When it came to keeping up superficial appearances and pretending all was as it should be, she and Krusty were accomplices.

Over this past week, the two of them had teamed up and completely fooled all of Eastal, the League of Free Cities. Using calm smiles and mild manners, they’d kept the modest secret of their respective true selves, of their idle prank, a secret to the end.

That’s right… I probably…believe in this man’s insincerity. I trust the lies of a liar. I trust him to see through me, to play along with this absurd joke…

“Yes, Lady Raynesia.”

As Krusty deferentially returned her greeting, Raynesia took a step forward. She faced him across the conference table; there was less than a meter between them.

“I am about to depart for the town of Akiba. Accompany me, please.”

Raynesia spoke clearly.

The inside of her head went perfectly silent, and even the hum of the conference seemed to come to her from a distance.

Her own pulse, the heat of her burning earlobes. She saw the change in Krusty’s expression as it narrowed, ever so slightly, with much more clarity than usual.

“Master Krusty, you swore on your knight’s sword that you would wait upon me for the duration of the conference. Hence my request. I must go to the town of Akiba.”

“To Akiba. To do what?”

“To recruit military volunteers.”

As Raynesia spoke, she felt the lords gasp. Akiba was governed by the Round Table Council. The Adventurers of Akiba were forces belonging to the Round Table Council. In this world, forces meant “knights.”

In other words, she intended to go to a town that was not her territory, and, without permission, directly urge its knights to participate in battle. To the common sense of aristocratic society, this was an act that would damage the authority of the Round Table Council, something she had no right to do.

However, if Krusty, the representative of the Round Table Council, were to accompany her on this journey to recruit volunteers, there was a possibility that the tide might turn slightly.

Of course, Raynesia had only asked Krusty to guard her, as an individual knight. Logically, even if Krusty agreed to act as her guard, it didn’t follow that the Round Table Council would have to lay down their arms. In the worst-case scenario, Raynesia might be declared an agitator and sentenced to beheading.

That said, it was also certainly possible that she might influence the Round Table Council’s decision for the better. Surely they would hesitate to behead a princess who had been guarded by their own representative.

Even so, Duke Sergiad couldn’t possibly allow his one remaining granddaughter to do something so willful, could he? A complicated groan, something between disappointment and understanding and delight, rose from the nobles.

There was probably no chance that Krusty would accept Raynesia’s extraordinary proposal. After all, it was no more than the whim of a girl.

However, Raynesia continued to look straight at Krusty.

“I imagine that’s going to be terribly, terribly troublesome…”

“—Yes,” Raynesia agreed, with a meek, ladylike expression.

However, although her profile struck the conference participants as graceful and melancholy, internally, she wasn’t nearly as calm as she appeared. She’d been driven so far into a corner that, if it had been possible, she would have liked to cling to Krusty in tears.

“Why are you doing this?”

“…You yourself said that the Adventurers are free, Master Krusty. I am only a foolish woman, you see… I know nothing of politics. I can’t even understand why my grandfather and the rest are hiding the fact that the Knights of Izumo have disappeared.”

This time, the conference was enveloped in roars of anger.

Voices criticizing Raynesia’s imprudence created such a clamor that the walls practically vibrated. To protect her mistress, Elissa drew a dagger she’d had concealed. At the sight of it, the lords, who were already on their feet, howled even more loudly.

“This is quite the beautiful mess you’ve created.”

“When I take responsibility for it, apologize along with me, if you would.”

As Raynesia answered Krusty, her face was heartily disgusted.

It was an unsuitable expression for “the single winter rose that blooms in Eastal,” but almost none of the participants in this vast conference room were up to noticing slight changes in Raynesia’s face at this point. The voices denouncing Duke Sergiad’s granddaughter for betraying the Lords’ Council and leaking secrets to the Round Table Council knew no end.

“What are you thinking?”

“So there are things even you don’t know, Master Krusty. …Nothing. I’m thinking nothing whatsoever. As a member of the House of Cowen, I merely wished not to be discourteous.”

Just then, the young man next to Krusty, the one who looked like a magic user, clapped his hands together. The sharp report shivered the air, and for the briefest of moments, all the lords and knights in the conference room seemed paralyzed.

It was probably some sort of psychological magic.

In the momentary silence that fell, Raynesia turned around, standing as if to shield Krusty behind her, and raised her voice.

As she’d told Krusty, Raynesia wasn’t thinking at all.

She only put words together, as though impelled to by the mass that overflowed in her heart.

“The Adventurers are free! They’re human, and freer than we are. …We may be weaker than the Adventurers, but that doesn’t give us license to become aggressive about it. We have no right to relax into our weakness and use their people as our tools. I intend to go to the town of Akiba and entreat the Adventurers directly. It was Master Krusty who said the Adventurers were free, so if any Adventurers respond to my request, doubtless he will not attempt to stop them. I go to find people who will lend us their strength, even if there are only ten or fifteen of them. If they are free and we are asking a favor of them, it is only natural that we should accord them every courtesy, is it not? My grandfather taught me that treating someone with courtesy doesn’t mean using high-flown language. I plan to go to them directly, stand in the street, and plead with each Adventurer individually.”

She’d said it.

She’d finally gone and said it.

Her blood retreated. Just as Raynesia seemed about to fall, in the midst of a dizzying dimness, a hand supported her shoulder.

“Can I leave the rest to you, Shiroe?”

“Absolutely not. What a waste.”

“…To Michitaka, then.”

She felt light and detached, and the words they exchanged seemed to come to her from far away.

The sharp sound of a whistle rang out. The conference room buzzed.

The sound of hasty footsteps. Loud voices raised in some sort of argument.

Led by the hand as though she were being escorted at a ball, before she knew it, Raynesia found herself out on the terrace, in the midst of the night wind. When she looked back, she saw the conference room in chaos, and several knights who’d slipped out of it and were in hot pursuit. In the lead, she found her stern yet beloved grandfather’s face.

“Are you coming?”

Even though her mind was too confused to think, those words came to her like letters of light written in the clear night sky, and Raynesia nodded plainly. She thought she saw her grandfather break into a broad smile, but it was probably her imagination.

She was only able to think these things for a moment.

Terrifying winged monsters—griffins—glided right over the balcony, riding a strong updraft, and before she even had time to scream, she was picked up bodily, like cargo.

“Pardon me.”

The cool voice belonged to Krusty, the sable warrior.

Cradling her in his powerful arms, Krusty leapt up onto the back of the griffin, using only the muscles in his legs.

“Feel free to cling to me.”

She might have fainted if it hadn’t been for that calm voice speaking to her as the griffin leapt up into the starry night, the two riders on its back.

Beside them was another griffin, which carried the young man who looked like a magician, and a black-haired girl.

She’d left her grandfather and the nobles behind.

Raynesia clung desperately to Krusty’s chest, to keep the wind that roared in her ears from snatching her dress.

And so it was that Raynesia’s “whim” began tumbling down an infinite slope.

6

“Why are you laughing, my liege?”

Akatsuki twisted around in Shiroe’s arms and looked up at him.

For a little while now, Shiroe had been chuckling to himself, making small noises deep in his throat.

The griffins were slicing through the wind between the stars, heading due northeast. If they went on this way, they’d be able to see Akiba in just a few minutes. A journey that would have taken several hours on the ground grew very short—only around twenty minutes—on the back of a magical beast that was beating its powerful wings.

“Nothing. I just thought that was brilliant.”

“Hm?”

Shiroe laughed as if he found it really funny.

“I’ve never seen Krusty make a face like that before. He managed to hide it, but still. …He was really on the ropes back there. Ahh, that felt good.”

“Were you still holding a grudge about that, my liege? …About the ball?”

“No, not at all. …Well, maybe,” Shiroe answered Akatsuki, who fit snugly into his arms.

“That princess is really something, too. Doing what she did at a time like that… ‘Courtesy,’ hm? I hadn’t thought of that. Still, the League of Free Cities had reached an impasse over this, and she saved them. No matter what anyone says, she took action to save them, and she succeeded.”

The League of Free Cities needed the Round Table Council’s fighting power. Shiroe didn’t know what sort of particulars lay behind it yet, but if the Knights of Izumo weren’t able to move, the Adventurers would need to be sent out. If they failed to do so, they’d plunge into a messy war of attrition.

The circumstances were such that it was conceivable that several of the chairs belonging to the League of Free Cities’ twenty-four lords might end up empty.

Since that was the case, the League of Free Cities had needed to pull the Round Table Council’s Adventurers out onto the battlefield, no matter what conditions they were required to swallow.

However, they’d gotten one thing very wrong.

The Round Table Council was in charge of Akiba’s self-government, and it bore a certain amount of responsibility for its management. However, it did not control Akiba.

Adventurers were completely free. The idea that the movements of separate guilds and individuals should not be restricted was so established that there had been no need to codify it in Akiba’s founding principles. To Shiroe and the others, who’d played Elder Tales as a game, this was self-evident to the point that there hadn’t been any need to confirm it.

The town of Akiba governed itself through an unstable council system, and restricting the freedom of the Adventurers who lived there was bound to generate a huge amount of stress among them.

Naturally, Krusty and the other special envoys from the Round Table Council could commit to cooperating in the defensive war against the Goblins. However, it wouldn’t be unconditional. The condition would lie in whether they could get sufficient support when they announced their decision to the Adventurers of Akiba.

If they did it any other way, the people of Akiba would abandon Shiroe and the other special envoys in the blink of an eye.

At present, in terms of defense, Akiba’s fighting capabilities were more than sufficient. In economic terms, although they had difficulty supplying their own food, since they’d begun to develop items using their knowledge from the old world, it was almost certain that advances would be made in the future.

In other words, the situation was such that finding a way to reward the town of Akiba was fairly difficult. Even if they tried to lure them in with bait of some sort, Akiba was quite wealthy.

If paying with money wouldn’t work, and providing technology was difficult, the League of Free Cities would naturally reach a deadlock. Of course, there were several things even Akiba wanted, with food supplies at the top of the list. After all, Shiroe and the others knew the old world, and their craving for further comfort in everyday life was strong. It was much too late for them to return to the soggy rice crackers of yore.

However, the lords didn’t know them very well, and they hadn’t been able to pick up on that.

If the conference had gone peaceably, Shiroe had privately intended to bring the negotiations to a close by casually presenting these requests on behalf of the Round Table Council.

However, Marquis Kilivar and a few of the other nobles had gone off half-cocked and stalled the conference, and the circumstances had no longer been the sort in which he could play any cards.

She probably isn’t aware of it, but she saved the lords, and she’s also saved the Round Table Council.

As a matter of fact, Shiroe himself was in favor of dispatching troops.

Life in this world seemed to be an inevitable fate, and since it was something they couldn’t avoid, they should fight under conditions in which they had the advantage.

The lords had viewed the Adventurers as invincible soldiers and had wanted to send them into battle, but their understanding had been flawed. In fact, the Adventurers were also saddled with risk: the loss of their memories. From Krusty’s statement, they’d learned that they weren’t likely to lose all their memories by dying once or twice, but even if that was the case, the pressure was still terrible.

This information hadn’t yet gone beyond the Round Table Council, but someday, they would probably have to announce it to all the citizens of Akiba.

When that time came, what would it take for the Round Table Council to maintain the current public order? Shiroe had spent many sleepless nights worrying about that. At this point, he thought the answer might be “understanding.” It might also be called “resolution appropriate to the risk.”

When life lost its absolute end—when death was made meaningless—chaos would come of its own accord. No longer a one-way corridor that led from beginning to end, a life that had lost its other shore—its original destination—would be compelled to wander.

Shiroe and the other Round Table Council special envoys couldn’t simply let themselves be used by the League of Free Cities, even if they did decide to cooperate with them. Doing so would damage the “understanding” the Adventurers of Akiba had of the world.

And directly opposite that, was her…

In the face of all that, Princess Raynesia had said, I will persuade them.

She would plead with the Adventurers, who were free by nature, on an individual basis.

She’d declared it outright.

“World Fraction”…

The menace of that phrase pressed at Shiroe’s heart.

Where were he and the other players?

To Shiroe, the demihumans were monsters, his enemies in the game. However, Li Gan had said they were the nightmares of warped souls, born from the curse of the first World Fraction.

Shiroe had been an ordinary university student living on Earth. Elder Tales had been just an online game. However, Li Gan said that Shiroe and the other Adventurers were beings that had been summoned to this world by the second World Fraction.

Shiroe’s immortality was only natural: This had been a game. However, Li Gan considered the restoration and repair of yin and yang energy through the Spirit Theory to be part of a great system that was tied to the secrets of the world’s beginning.

Where did he stand?

The question made Shiroe terribly uneasy.

Which was the dream? Was it the body that was racing through the sky on the back of a griffin, or was it the self that had sat at a computer desk, clicking away? The boundary was growing vague.

If his memories were taken while he harbored this unease, he was sure he’d be plunged into the darkness of delusion. No doubt most Adventurers would be. And who would save them if that happened? No such convenient outsider existed.

All there was, Shiroe thought, was “understanding.”

Even he didn’t know how to go about obtaining that understanding. Not only that, but this world wasn’t likely to give him time for that doubt, or to find an answer. Each day came at ferocious speed and was swept away into the past.

The Adventurers might—no, probably would—travel that precarious, painful road, and they were the ones the ladylike Princess Raynesia had meant when she said, “It’s only natural that we afford them every courtesy.”

I suppose I should have expected no less from Krusty…

In his arms, Akatsuki pressed her cheek against Shiroe as if she were cold. Shiroe’s expression softened as he sheltered her under his arms.

Marquis Kilivar’s emotional outburst had cut off the Round Table Council’s path of retreat as well. Because he’d spoken as though he saw the Adventurers as mere tools, Shiroe and the others had lost their chance to contribute to the war, even if they’d wanted to.

If they’d let that attitude coerce them into promising to cooperate, it would have hurt the pride of Akiba’s Adventurers, and the Round Table Council would have lost their trust as an organization of self-government.

“My liege, there lies Akiba.”

“Indeed.”

“Does battle come next?”

“Most likely.”

In this other world, night meant “darkness.”

A pitch-black world spread out below them. Due to the stars scattered across it, the sky was actually brighter. He had no watch, but he thought it was probably about midnight. Even so, the town of Akiba wasn’t asleep.

Thanks to the telechat he’d sent through right after the griffins took flight, the Round Table Council should be ready and waiting. Roderick of the Roderick Trading Company would probably also respond to the measures he’d taken.

In the midst of the dark world, the lights of the town of Akiba shone like a watchfire.

As they drew nearer, the single blaze seemed to break apart into countless bonfires, and before long, they could even make out the circle of fire that enclosed the plaza, like a tiny ring. It was an impromptu landing site that D.D.D., Akiba’s largest combat guild, had quickly set up to receive their leader.

In the midst of enough light even for mounts whose eyesight failed in the dark, the two magical beasts descended to the town of Akiba. The long night was still less than halfway over.