1

“None of that now. You mustn’t use force.”

“Line up, line up!”

“Yes, we’re accepting documents over here. Yes, yes!”

Cheerful voices flew back and forth.

The voices belonged to beautiful girls.

In Elder Tales, due to its nature as a game, whether they were player-controlled characters or the characters that came and went in town, all the women were fundamentally cute or beautiful. Men acquired the adjectives distinguished, cool, or cute.

As that was the case, if a certain number of women gathered together, particularly if they were Adventurers, they would probably all be lovely…but even then, the current level of gaiety was excessive.

Inside the countermeasure headquarters, which had been hastily set up near the entrance to the great exhibition and sale hall, Shiroe stealthily heaved a sigh.

This wasn’t the first time he’d seen girls giving their all for Soujirou’s sake. People said that falling in love made women beautiful, and it was true. Shiroe interpreted this to mean that their cheeks flushed, their eyes grew dewy, and they showed soft expressions more often, which made them seem more charming.

However, on top of this, Soujirou’s groupies—or, in their words, “personal bodyguard”—seemed to be scattering heart marks from head to toe. The aura made it into their voices, too, giving them a honeyed sweetness.

This is more than I expected.

With a sour expression, Shiroe looked around the venue.

Here and there around the great hall, girls with blue armbands were organizing lines, occasionally observing negotiations between People of the Earth merchants and Adventurers, and giving advice.

Their actions were smooth and skilled, and they suggested several hundred hours of solid training.

Of course, they hadn’t taken anywhere near that much time.

It was all due to the power of Soujirou’s personal bodyguard, whom Shiroe had eloquently won over. You’d never think it just to look at them, but they were a highly organized group.

Not only that, but thanks to their telechat contact network, more people kept showing up.

As far as Shiroe knew, the West Wind Brigade—the combat guild of which Soujirou was guild master—had a current total of thirty members. However, no matter how you looked at it, there seemed to be over fifty girls participating in the current operation.

“Counselor Shiroe.”

A girl with a resolute expression addressed Shiroe.

Apparently, before he was aware of it, Shiroe had begun to be treated as “Counselor.” This was because Soujirou had told them to “Obey Mister Shiroe for on-site orders.”

“Five new members have arrived, and can be dispatched as a party.”

Her brisk report was smooth and seemed polished.

Even in major guilds like Silver Sword or Gundari, the softer members wouldn’t be capable of this.

“Uh…”

Shiroe searched for words.

Even though he’d proposed this operation himself, he was well aware of how complicated and noncommittal his current expression was.

“Where’s Soujirou?”

“Sir. Master Sou is currently in the hall on a date—I mean, he’s patrolling, and Squad Four is in attendance.”

Shiroe looked out the window, gauging the time. It was probably about time to move on to the next stage.

“In that case, contact Soujirou. Tell him to return to the countermeasure headquarters, then join up with Squad Five. Keep conducting forty-five-minute hall patrols. Squad Four will take over Squad Five’s current duties: In other words, directly guarding the headquarters and assisting with reception. Then, organize new arrivals into new squads of three members each. Put these on duty patrolling the city.”

“Understood, sir. We, we, we—”

“Eh?”

The girl had suddenly gone bright red. Shiroe cocked his head, perplexed.

“We of Squad Five will go on patrol with Master Sou, according to your orders, Counselor Shiroe, sir.”

As she repeated back the order, a few of the bodyguards who had been shooting furtive glances their way—in other words, the girls of Squad Five—gave squeals that couldn’t be completely hidden.

“Together with Master Sou!” “That’s a first for me.” “What’ll I do? I’m not wearing cute undies!” Murmurs that were begging for all sorts of sarcastic retorts escaped the gaggle. Their eyes had sailed past dewy and were now nearly heart shaped.

Yet, their idea was pretty close to the mark.

The operation Shiroe had proposed this time used a guard patrol with Soujirou (or rather, a group date on that pretext) as bait to increase the number of staff on site.

Soujirou was slowly patrolling this exhibition and sale venue, which overflowed with autumn and winter clothes, with squads of three or four members. He had orders to be careful not to hurry, so the act really was a date. Soujirou had been instructed to buy each one a present that cost up to twenty coins. The Round Table Council would pick up the tab.

When he’d hit on the idea, along with the flash of inspiration—This is brilliant!—Shiroe had also cut himself down: Come on, is a maneuver like this really going to work? However, the result was that it was functioning in the hall at this very moment, producing an effect beyond anything he’d imagined.

Shiroe didn’t know the details, but he’d heard that Soujirou’s personal bodyguard boasted an iron unity. (The girl who’d spoken to him a moment ago had bragged about it.) Apparently there was a pyramid-shaped command system that ran from Master Sou’s chief manager down to the newbies. They’d used that command system to organically organize formations, and now they were single-handedly dealing with the trouble in the hall.

Although Soujirou and his group were wandering around slowly, there were six other squads on patrol, stopping trouble before it started. If it looked as though a troublesome argument was about to break out, Shiroe had ordered them to contact him by telechat without hesitation, or to threaten the merchants with the idea of continuing their discussion in the presence of the Round Table Council.

At first, he’d been wary, thinking that the People of the Earth merchants or spies might expand the uproar anyway, but possibly because even People of the Earth had difficulty coping with attractive young girls, almost no trouble was occurring.

After all, the girls’ motivation was tremendous.

They were conducting systematic, careful patrols, and their expressions were literally transfigured. At the same time, they dealt with the venue in a genuine, mild way that left no room for complaint. If they participated in this volunteer activity, they might get closer to Soujirou. This fantasy probably never left their minds. As they diligently patrolled, Soujirou appeared before them again and again. Not only that, but he was patrolling at the head of a different squad every time. Of course their will to work grew stronger.

If they thought Soujirou might be watching, they dealt with matters more courteously. They were intent on acting like adorable girls, and their pretense of feline innocence went so overboard that, to Shiroe, they seemed to have the aura of ferocious tigers.

Of course, compared to the girls—whose adrenaline had spiked along with their motivation—Shiroe’s biorhythm was as low as it could possibly get. It wasn’t that he was jealous of Soujirou, or that he wanted to build a harem, but having a disparity of this magnitude shoved right in his face made him feel—like every other guy in the world—rather hopeless.

It was true that Soujirou was an agreeable young man. He was mild and kind, a gentleman, and a nice guy who could always be counted on in a fight. On top of that, the way he was hopelessly scatterbrained and clumsy stirred their protective instincts—or that was how he had come to understand it from what the girls said. When he was in the Debauchery Tea Party, Nazuna and Yomi had explained to him in exhaustive detail just what it was about Soujirou that was so charming.

However, even then, he wasn’t fully satisfied.

Was it possible to be this popular, just from those things?

He was so hugely popular it made Shiroe wonder whether it was some kind of magic. He wasn’t jealous, and yet he was exasperated. It’s truly weird, Shiroe muttered to himself.

“Lord Counselor, it’s a pleasure to meet you. We’ve just arrived at our post. We’re, ergh, umm, Number Sixteen? That’s right, Squad Sixteen!”

As he looked at the elated girl who stood stiffly at attention in front of him, Shiroe reconfirmed the weirdness he’d felt up until a moment ago.

What makes girls like this? Love is seriously strange. I guess popular people really are a type of genius. …Although they’re right next door to dangerous objects.

He thought of Soujirou.

He was a good-looking boy who was a bit on the delicate side, yet absolutely loved combat. He was a perfectly satisfactory guy to have as a friend. They were gaming buddies, and he thought it was fine to just leave it at that, but maybe it was different from a girl’s perspective.

“Understood. Squads Nine through Eighteen, go out and act as town guards.”

“Town guards? You mean like the Shinsengumi!”

For some reason, the girl was very excited and happy. Shiroe nodded absently. He understood that when dealing with women this hyper, you didn’t make unnecessary retorts, and you didn’t defy them.

“Um, oh. My liege.”

Akatsuki spoke. She and Shiroe were watching the Crescent Moon League booth by turns. Her embarrassed expression was probably due to the clothes she was wearing.

“What’s wrong?”

“Um… Are you leaving? What about that promise? The stage…”

At Akatsuki’s words, Shiroe remembered. Come to think of it…

Part of the promise they’d made to Henrietta had been a stage show to promote sales. No doubt Shiroe was more of a stagehand, but she was probably counting on Akatsuki fully. It was likely that the clothes Henrietta had put on her, an outfit in the style of the old world, were meant to be worn in the stage show.

However, at present, Akiba was under attack.

Technically, it was no time for stage shows.

“You did promise, didn’t you, my liege…?”

“Well, yes, but…”

No… That might not be the case…

Pushing up his glasses, Shiroe considered.

If the enemy’s goal was a saturation attack on the Round Table Council’s processing abilities, and if they were working to damage trust and probably to cause internal schisms, then, to the greatest extent possible, the Libra Festival should go on as planned. That was what Shiroe had thought, but now he adjusted that course of action slightly.

In the first place, people from outside won’t know what the plans were. If it ends up looking like a success, there won’t be any problem with ad-libbing a bit.

Thinking that way vastly increased the amount of freedom Shiroe had.

He held his breath and moved mental pawns over the timetable in his mind. His own plans, the plans of other players. He strictly separated the information he had from the information he hadn’t confirmed yet, filling in board surfaces one by one.

Shiroe wasn’t God, and so of course there were lots of situations he wasn’t seeing. However, by nature, with each move they made, players disclosed a surprising amount of information. …Just as the enemy’s arrogant methods had exposed their own carelessness.

Humans were creatures who couldn’t do a thing without leaving footprints.

When that additional information was added in, the game boards he couldn’t see began to dimly materialize.

The efforts of each resident. Their reliability on-site. Against a background of festival atmosphere, various forces’ intentions regarding the town of Akiba writhed.

Shiroe thought that the world was filled with players on his level, and to him, it was a form of pondering. There were countless situations he couldn’t handle.

He’d contacted Krusty and Isaac and was having them quell all the incidents involving violence in Akiba. On top of this, he was moving every last movable pawn. Because he was following a policy of not making the incident public, the system at every location was a bit like a volunteer effort, but the main forces of Akiba’s famous guilds were involved in the affair. Strong players were gathered on this game board.

In fact, right now, he was unable to handle the enemy on his own and was borrowing Soujirou’s abilities. His personal bodyguard was on the frontline of negotiation issues with People of the Earth merchants, solving problems with enough force to literally drive them away. These were abilities Shiroe didn’t have.

And again, he remembered the voice of his little companion who had contacted him from the Production Guild Liaison Committee.

Shiroe could sense her fingertips: still young, but filled with intent. Although it was still small and faint, he saw a vision of a move like a newly hatched chick flapping its wings.

Calasin’s processing speed had risen, and the backlog of trouble was clearly dwindling. This acted as covering fire for the patrol squads led by Isaac and the others, and the slight leeway they created was being pried open by force through the power of Soujirou’s personal bodyguard.

They were pushing their disadvantage back further than he’d expected.

Although it hadn’t yet taken shape, he’d begun to be able to visualize how the situation would be settled. At this point, Shiroe could pay out the next countermeasure.

Shiroe turned his thoughts toward the freedom Akatsuki’s words had shown him. Doing something that hadn’t been planned, yet would not destroy the Libra Festival’s timetable, and adding excitement to the festival. That sort of move.

After all, the enemy had used these methods—adding stress and sowing wild rumors—because they were ultimately plotting to weaken Akiba’s unity. Their goal was to make people think, Akiba’s nothing big. It was an attack aimed at weakening spirits, quite apart from the actual state of things. The most effective way to counterstrike was to rev up the Libra Festival and maximize the participants’ satisfaction.

“—My liege?”

At Akatsuki’s worried voice, Shiroe looked up and smiled back at her. It was, in Henrietta’s words, his black-hearted smile.

“Ah. Akatsuki? Have Henrietta get outfits ready. Contact the nearby guilds, too, and have them pull together head-to-toe coordinates somehow or other. The nosebleed-provoking kind.”

“Huh?”

“Squads Nine through Eighteen!”

“Yes?!”

At the prompt response that returned to him, Shiroe stood up and spoke, his expression fearless.

“Go out and patrol the town! I know I’m causing you trouble, but please help me out. After today’s duties are over, I’ll treat you to a delicious meal. I want you to show Soujirou just how lovely you can be!”

2

At Lord Malves’s words, Raynesia went pale.

It wasn’t that she understood. She hadn’t gotten that far yet.

Raynesia had picked up the scorched scent of danger.

“Come. You will hurry and make the preparations, won’t you, Princess?”

“Huh? Oh… I, um…”

Raynesia turned, as if looking for help. Her eyes found Elissa; she was roundly rebuking a subordinate maid and looking through some copied files she’d received from Lord Malves’s men.

“Princess.”

“Well?”

“The documents are real. …It’s hard to imagine, but all I can think is that they must have slipped through the cracks due to an oversight on our part.”

An oversight.

Slipped through the cracks.

Even when she heard those words, Raynesia’s brain didn’t respond right away. Then, slowly, the mistake sank into her consciousness. It felt like an icy cold liquid.

In other words, it probably meant that when Lord Malves had planned to make for Akiba in a transport ship, he had sounded out Raynesia about borrowing a storehouse in advance. He’d sent the same documents to Maihama as well, and had received a response approving them.

In other words, it meant that Raynesia herself had committed to preparing a storehouse. Apparently the long and short of it was that while she was preparing for the festival, she’d forgotten.

Of course, she didn’t know what had actually happened. The message might not have reached her due to some accident in transmission, or the office maid might have forgotten about it, or Raynesia herself might have been so very busy that she’d mislaid the documents somewhere…

However, there was no time to question anyone about it now.

Lord Malves had a response from Raynesia’s side. At this point, it could be nothing other than Raynesia’s mistake.

In the first place, Raynesia was the hostess, and she had a duty to accommodate her guests. In addition, the daughter of the House of Cowen, who was posing as a freeloader in the town of Akiba, and Lord Malves, the marine transport noble of the West, were very different in terms of personal rank. Then, considering the tense relationship between the East and the West, her only option was to humble herself.

Raynesia was a woman.

In accordance with the customs of the People of the Earth, she hadn’t received any political training, but even so, there were things one picked up simply by being in fashionable society.

“Hmph! What’s the matter? You aren’t about to tell me preparations haven’t been made, are you? Not after I applied so carefully beforehand.”

“I, um…”

It would be easy to apologize.

However, Raynesia wasn’t used to negotiations of this sort, and she couldn’t decide whether it would be all right to humble herself in this situation or not. If this is how things are going to go, I should have learned more. …This was something she was too lazy to think, but even so, she thought she ought to have taken steps of some sort.

Naturally, she should have done something along the lines of having Maihama send over a few distinguished civil servants for her to keep close by. Of course she’d chosen attendants within the range her grandfather had allowed, but even then, it hadn’t been enough.

“Is this Cowen etiquette?… Or was the story that you’d formed a relationship of cooperation with the Adventurers, and the town of Akiba, a false one?”

At his mocking voice, Raynesia hung her head.

She was bursting with retorts she wanted to make, but she didn’t know which would be right and which would be dangerous.

At any rate, she had to apologize, compensate him for the ship’s cargo and settle things peacefully. Setting aside the detailed procedures to think about bit by bit, would it be possible to postpone this problem for the moment, at least until after the banquet? This was what Raynesia thought with her numbed mind.

She’d always been called a beautiful princess.

No matter what party she appeared at, she’d been surrounded by praise from knights and civil servants.

In the midst of those frozen days, she thought she’d acted well, but she felt her temperature falling. Raynesia couldn’t understand it. Why were her emotions this unstable? Why was she so out of sorts?

This frustration wasn’t Raynesia’s. After all, Raynesia didn’t really care about a thing like this. The displeasure and frustration and self-reproach must be the fault of this thoughtless town—

“Good evening!”

Raynesia had frozen, her gaze lowered to the magnificent carpet. When its colors abruptly fell into shadow, she realized there was someone standing in front of her, and her eyes came up as if she’d been stung. The back she saw was covered by unfamiliar clothes.

Over a shirt made out of a soft-looking cloth, a type the People of the Earth didn’t know, the figure wore a long, hooded vest. It was a young man, the culprit who, on the date of that fateful speech that had started them toward Zantleaf, had pushed Raynesia off a metaphorical cliff, making it impossible for her to turn back. Shiroe.

“Master…Shiroe?”

“And who is this?”

“Pardon me. I’m Shiroe; I lead Log Horizon, one of the eleven guilds on the Round Table Council.”

“Shiroe… No family name, then? Oho…”

“That’s right. I’m an Adventurer, you see.”

Before Raynesia’s eyes, even when confronted with this great aristocrat from the West, the young man in town clothes didn’t let his carefree attitude flicker. Raynesia was at a loss for words, but even so, she took half a step forward. There was no telling what sort of trouble an Adventurer who wasn’t familiar with the courtesy and customs of the People of the Earth might call down upon them. She’d resolved to become Akiba’s shield in order to prevent this from happening.

However, there was a hand on Raynesia’s shoulder, restraining her with a strength that was gentle but absolute. It was a large, sinewy, masculine hand, and it belonged to Krusty: Krusty had checked her from behind. Raynesia looked up at him over her shoulder. Without lowering his gaze, he spoke to her.

“There’s no need to worry.”

His glasses got in the way and she couldn’t read his expression, but there was a very cruel smile on his lips.

“Welcome to Akiba, Lord Malves. We’ve heard many rumors of the success of your spirit ship, which uses spirits in its engine, and of your skill in marine transport.”

Shiroe smiled as he spoke, and at his words, Malves’s eyes widened very slightly. However, he only said, “Why, thank you,” and the set of his lips remained ironic. In terms of People of the Earth etiquette, his attitude bordered on scorn.

He was clearly ridiculing Shiroe and—viewed in combination with the fact that Shiroe had introduced himself as a member of the Round Table Council—Akiba’s Round Table Council as well. His attitude irritated Raynesia so much that she felt her cheeks grow hot.

However, Shiroe didn’t seem to mind in the slightest. It was possible that he knew nothing about People of the Earth etiquette in the first place.

“Well, was there something? Miss Elissa? Where are you?”

“Here, Mister Shiroe. …These are the particulars.”

However, Shiroe’s words threw cold water on that irritation.

Raynesia, her expression flabbergasted, found herself watching her own lady-in-waiting show Shiroe the letters from a moment before. She hadn’t been aware that the two were acquainted. Elissa wore a sour expression, but even so, she seemed to have a kind of respect for the young man called Shiroe.

“Oh. Hm. …I see, yes, that would have been possible, too. I understand the gist. …Hey, Michitaka!”

Without even bothering to set up a telechat, Shiroe called to a big man in the hall. At his voice, Michitaka—the guild master of the Marine Organization, a man who was built like a bear—ambled over to them. Shiroe interrupted the man’s greeting and began to discuss the issue without preamble.

“Clumsy, you know. Clumsy, or sloppy, or a complete lack of style… Michitaka, Princess Raynesia has messed up, and apparently it’s caused trouble.”

“Oho. Well, well. Isn’t that something.”

Raynesia thought that, rather than being ill-mannered, Shiroe seemed to have a personality that was abnormally impetuous, or maybe utilitarian. Her first impression of him hadn’t changed: Raynesia wasn’t good with this young man. She wasn’t good with Krusty, either, but her discomfort with Krusty stemmed from the fact that she couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

Her sense of being unable to deal with Shiroe came from the feeling that if he decided to do something, he’d probably do it, no matter how reckless, and he wouldn’t listen to a word she said. Krusty was simply impossible to understand, and that made him scary, but Shiroe was a hunter who wouldn’t hesitate to use Raynesia as bait.

“And who are you, exactly? I’m currently inquiring about the error Miss Raynesia has made.”

At Lord Malves’s words, the corners of Shiroe’s lips curved up. He explained the situation so that the newcomer would understand as well.

“This big man is Michitaka, leader of the Marine Organization, one of the eleven guilds on the Round Table Council. Now, Lord Malves has come by sea and brought cargo with him, and he needs a storehouse. A letter asking Raynesia to have one ready arrived, but she either forgot it or lost it. Well, either way, she bungled it, and that’s how things stand.”

At Shiroe’s words, Lord Malves nodded, looking triumphant.

“That’s right. The cargo includes foodstuffs and precious spices. If left in the hot, damp hold, they’re sure to rot within a few days.”

On hearing this, Raynesia wanted to raise her voice in protest.

It was a false accusation, something she had no memory of. …Well, it was, but it was also true that bringing that into question now wouldn’t do any good.

“You must have been planning to do some very big business.”

“I was attending in person. It’s only natural that I would use the most elegant ship in my trading firm as transport, Shiroe or whatever your name was.”

Shiroe’s attitude had probably pleased him: The middle-aged noble, who smelled of powder, gave a purring, bestial laugh.

“The new Spirit Ship Aegir, just commissioned last month. I only know of it through rumors, but I hear it’s a beautiful, swanlike vessel.”

“Oho. Such rumors have already reached Akiba as well? Well, that’s correct… And due to Miss Raynesia’s negligence, all the cargo on that ship will be lost. Don’t you think that’s a cruel betrayal, Adventurers?”

“That’s very unfortunate.”

Why is Shiroe just agreeing with what the lord says…? Does he think the People of the Earth don’t matter, because he’s an Adventurer…? But this incident is already reflecting on the dignity of Akiba!

“Well. I came because I have business with Princess Raynesia. Akatsuki, Miss Henrietta.”

“Huh?”

She’d been distracted by Shiroe and hadn’t noticed, but a capable-looking woman with glasses and the small, black-haired girl who’d given her such a horrible time during that speech had quietly appeared.

“The princess says she’ll work with us to make this festival a success. Help her dress.”

“Huh? Huh?”

Raynesia didn’t understand. She looked to her right, at Elissa.

Elissa shook her head and gave a small sigh.

Giving up on her unreliable friend, Raynesia looked back over her left shoulder at Krusty, but he only shrugged his shoulders.

While this was going on, the serious black-haired girl and the smiling woman with glasses had apprehended Raynesia. Although their attitude was polite, their atmosphere brooked no argument, and even though they were in public, their hands reached for Raynesia’s clothes.

“Wha…?! What are you doing?! Huh? Change clothes… I can’t possibly do that in a place like… I-I mean, I’m in the middle of a serious discussion with Lord Malves! It’s important, in order to protect Akiba— Master Krusty! Say something to them, please! You are my knight, aren’t you?!”

“Wasn’t that only for the duration of the lords’ council?”

“Are knights’ vows so inconstant?! Do you mean to make me—me!—believe you spoke in jest?!”

More than half panicking, Raynesia begged Krusty in tears. She’d seen the quiet, dark smile this bespectacled, alabaster knight wore, but Krusty was the only one here she could look to for help.

“We’ll extend the contract, then.”

“D-do something about this. I-I’ll change! I’ll do it later, properly, so for now, please explain to Lord Malves—!”

“Shiroe. …My princess has been granted an extension, and you heard her.”

Before they knew it, the fuss created by the smiling Henrietta and the too-serious Akatsuki, who had secured Princess Raynesia’s arms from either side, had become the focus of attention in the hall. In the center of the crowd that had formed around them, Krusty prompted Shiroe to continue.

“Understood, Krusty… Everything is ready.”

“Lord Malves. We understand what you’re saying. However, those letters have already reached Akiba’s Round Table Council.”

Krusty, whose expression was hidden behind his glasses, spoke briefly. His voice wasn’t at all loud, but his unique timing left a strong impression on everyone there. Malves was caught off guard; for a moment, his expression looked foolish, but as if he’d collected himself almost immediately, he raised his voice.

“Wha…?! The Round Table Council, contacted?! That can’t be! …It’s a storehouse! You can’t possibly get one ready so easily. You don’t understand. I didn’t come here in a cart! Weren’t you listening?!”

“The New Spirit Ship Aegir, wasn’t it? It has a carrying capacity of five hundred tons, if I recall. It’s equipped with an ice room as well. Truly an elite vessel.”

“That’s right, Adventurer. What storehouse is there that can house that much material, under controlled temperatures? You could never prepare one right away; you’re babbling nonsense.”

Malves blustered with an attitude that was the picture of arrogance. His hubris showed in the way he kept clicking his tongue in irritation, over and over.

Raynesia was assailed by a cold shudder.

Not at Malves’s arrogance.

It was at his lack of fear. As a People of the Earth noble, Malves was too accustomed to having others obey him. The nobles of Eastal had had that sort of arrogance as well, but that authority carried absolutely no weight with the Adventurers. If Malves took an attitude this inflammatory, there was a significant possibility that he would be cut down.

Nobles had great power in People of the Earth society, but their bodies weren’t indestructible. If an Adventurer attacked him, he’d be charcoal in less than a tenth of a second.

It wasn’t that she sympathized with Malves, but if that happened, it might very well start a war. The Adventurers’ righteous anger could bring their own destruction down upon them…

Oh. Oooh… Why do I have to worry about this white pig?!

“Huhn? The Round Table Council was contacted? Well then, that’s fine. However, I heard that the storehouses you Adventurers loan out are filled with traveling merchants’ cargo. Do you mean to tell me you received word, and yet I’m met with this miserable state of affairs?”

“I’m terribly sorry. This incident was all my, Raynesia’s—”

Malves had shifted his target to the Adventurers and the Round Table Council, and at his persistent tone, Raynesia finally shrieked, but…

“Michitaka. This is the letter.”

At the sight of the letter Shiroe had produced as if by magic, everyone froze. She’d only caught a glimpse of it, but it looked exactly like the copy Malves had been waving around a moment before.

She couldn’t say for certain, but a message Raynesia hadn’t possessed had reached Akiba’s Round Table Council.

Taking it, Michitaka scanned the contents, then nodded magnanimously.

“…Want us to arrange for trucks to carry the cargo, too?”

On top of this affirmation of his intentions—which seemed as if it could only be a rash promise—Michitaka gave a broad, macho grin and shrugged his shoulders.

“You can’t mean…!”

“Sure, we’ve got a storehouse. …Five hundred tons, you said? That’s not so much. The Marine Organization’s private storehouse has several times the floor area of the Round Table Council’s public ones. Even if it was five hundred or five thousand, it wouldn’t matter. Did you think the traveling merchants had busted us? Or, moreover, that we Adventurers wouldn’t save our People of the Earth princess?”

At Michitaka’s words, Raynesia clenched her fists.

Was this Adventurer trying to salvage her mistake? Michitaka was an uncompromising man who’d spoken loudly and eloquently about the pride of the Adventurers before the assembled People of the Earth nobles at the Lords’ Council at the Ancient Court of Eternal Ice. Raynesia had never dreamed this man would make such an unselfish offer.

No, not to me…

Raynesia stole a glance at the young man who had his hands on her shoulders. Possibly because he was so close, she couldn’t see his expression without looking up, and even if she had seen it, it probably wouldn’t have been at all clear. It felt as if he was smiling thinly and also as if he was morose. Although it was impossible to tell what this menace was thinking, she understood that he’d requested that favor from Michitaka.

“Master Krusty…”

“To think our security was too perfect. Since we managed to shut down all physical trouble, we were late in catching on here.”

Raynesia couldn’t grasp the full meaning of Krusty’s murmur.

“…Master Krusty? I’m…”

“Because you’re a valuable shield…I mean, princess.”

Krusty didn’t lower his gaze. Reluctantly, Raynesia thanked him. The number of debts she owed him just kept increasing. The snowballing sense of indebtedness made her conscience and her pride scream and throb feverishly. However, in response to her words of gratitude, Krusty only said, incomprehensibly, “Shiroe’s the one you should thank.”

Meanwhile, Malves’s expression had grown grim.

Clicking his tongue in irritation, he shot a look at Shiroe. Shiroe only turned Malves’s glance aside with an innocent expression.

Looking very angry, the great noble of Westlande sharply bade them farewell and left the hall.

Raynesia felt the strength draining from her legs. Malves had gone. His pride might have been wounded, but for now, his life was safe. They’d avoided any decisive split with Malves, and by extension, with the West.

Her relief at the unexpected result was so great it was as though her spine had turned to foam.

“That’s right. We’ve settled things here. Take care of the rest.”

“Very well, Master Shiroe.”

“Understood, my liege.”

As if taking advantage of that mental vulnerability, they dragged Raynesia away. By the time Raynesia realized that her own knight, with whom she’d extended her contract, had given a little wave and merely watched her go, she’d already been stripped down to her underwear.

3

Raynesia’s dinner party had disintegrated.

But even as it fell apart, it was a great success.

The front doors of the official Maihama residence that served as the embassy were thrown open wide, and all the guests spilled out into Akiba’s central plaza, simultaneously mixing with the people who had been enjoying the evening festival there. The feast that had been prepared was carried out onto the plaza, dish after dish, and served.

Of course, that alone wasn’t enough for the people flooding the plaza, and all the restaurants that faced the plaza had their kitchens running at full rotation. Thanks to the proclamation that Shiroe had quietly issued—a promise to the effect that everything people ate and drank tonight would be paid for by the Round Table Council—people were provided with so much food and drink that the stores were nearly exhausted.

As a result, the average level of the food came down from what Raynesia had intended. Rather than a buffet-style dinner party, it was more like what would be found at an outdoor celebration or a flower-viewing party. However, the Adventurers didn’t seem to think that was the least bit important.

When Krusty ushered Raynesia into the plaza and they saw her, a stir ran through the Adventurers. Since that rousing speech, Princess Raynesia had appeared at several gatherings in Akiba, but this was very nearly the first time she’d made a direct appearance before ordinary Adventurers.

The princess entrusted her slender fingers to the knight, and her eyes were slightly downcast. Her smile, cheeks flushed with embarrassment, was just like a lovely flower, and it cast a spell on most of the Adventurers. She looked fresh and innocent, a beautiful girl straight out of a dream.

What startled them was her clothing.

Raynesia was wearing a denim mermaid skirt. Over an autumnal chartreuse shirt, she wore a short bolero-style jacket. The long skirt was graceful, but it was a casual fashion. A black ribbon was woven into her long silver hair, which hung down her back.

Raynesia had only ever shown the gothic dresses that marked her as People of the Earth nobility. No one in Akiba had expected her to appear in clothes like these.

Commotion enveloped the plaza. To the Adventurers, the outfit looked like neat and tidy date fashion of the sort they’d seen back on Earth; to the People of the Earth, it was a modern Adventurer look that exuded a sense of the new era.

Raynesia advanced along the south side of the plaza, led by a morose Krusty, then seated herself on the cushion of a large bench that had been hastily put together. The big bench was an item created from the woodworking menu; the temporary arbor had been prepared at Shiroe’s request, and it had been ready in less than fifteen minutes.

The sun had already set, and the plaza was illuminated by many torches, but the area around Raynesia was lit by Lumieres—possibly called there by a tactful Summoner—and was twice as full of light as anywhere else.

Black Sword Isaac slid his trademark sword from its sheath, saying that, due to reasons of security, the princess could not leave this bench, but that she wanted to share the night of the festival with them here in the plaza, and that, if they were so inclined, anyone who wanted to could greet her at this arbor. The commotion in the plaza grew even louder.

The surprise was probably greater for the People of the Earth than it was for the Adventurers. Many of them, particularly the ones who hadn’t taken part in the plot, were peddlers from the towns and villages near Akiba. These people, who loaded cargo onto the backs of single horses or drew rattletrap carts, carrying their cargo from village to village, never got the chance to see a noble princess in person. And this wasn’t just a glimpse from afar: She would be greeting them. Their surprise was enormous.

Of course, that didn’t mean a large number of people strode right up to greet her. A third of the people in the plaza were People of the Earth commoners, and the rest were diffident Japanese Adventurers.

Although everyone was enjoying the festival, even when a stylish group of people Raynesia had summoned from Maihama began to play an old serenade that had been handed down in Yamato, they all seemed to be holding back.

The one who first approached and got the ball rolling was, as expected, Michitaka.

Trailing about ten of his guild members, he visited the stylish bench and its surrounding arbor, which was made of folding screens and umbrellas and similar objects. On seeing them exchange friendly greetings with Raynesia, who seemed relieved, other guilds gradually began to move.

There were many Adventurers who asked for a greeting, and Elissa’s subordinate maids hastily sprang into action.

Shiroe, who was looking down on the scene from a ruined elevated walkway that overlooked the plaza, poured fruit juice tea from a small nearby pot into a glass. In the amicable scene below him, Princess Raynesia was talking with Adventurers or with People of the Earth, and many of those were chatting with each other. It spoke more eloquently than anything else of the Libra Festival’s success.

The idea of having Raynesia, a People of the Earth noble, appear in the plaza wearing a costume created by Adventurers in the style of the old world sent a powerful message to everyone participating in the festival.

The message was one of peace and amity. That unity would probably become a defense against attacks like this one.

This time, Shiroe thought, they seemed to have managed to get through the attack on Akiba.

The attack’s point of origin had probably been the Westlande aristocrat Malves, who’d retreated at Raynesia’s dinner party.

Although, if he’s that illogical, I doubt he was the mastermind.

Shiroe sensed that, at most, he’d been no more than the starting point of one of the major lines of attack.

As such, he wasn’t sure this had ended the onslaught. As a matter of fact, the festival’s security level was still raised, and the peacekeeping squads led by Isaac and Krusty were managing disputes that looked as though they might turn violent, with a focus on traffic entering and leaving the town.

This was true of the squads of girls that followed Soujirou, too. They were still on patrol, watching out for disputes regarding business transactions and quarrels with roots in romance.

Shiroe had been appointed counselor, and regular check-ins and telechats asking for instructions on incident resolution methods were coming intermittently.

One of the reasons he’d stationed himself up here—where he could look out over the plaza—was so that he’d be ready to move at any time.

However, Shiroe wasn’t that worried.

The attacks on processing speed and trust in the Round Table Council had all been attacks intended to disturb. The tactic of disturbance was effective, because it operated through surprise attacks and while the other party wasn’t aware of it; now that the Round Table Council had taken steps to deal with it, they couldn’t hope for much of an effect.

Of course, there were worse scenarios, but there was no point in exploring those now. Some fights were fought passively, without making all the moves you could see. Staying on guard and getting through the festival period was probably the best of their available options.

Even if we don’t explore further, I think they’ll probably attack us anyway. As Shiroe sighed, below him, the motion of the plaza continued. The crowds around the restaurants and Princess Raynesia were unchanged, but new music and a new crowd had appeared. Soujirou’s personal bodyguard stood in two long lines, one on either side of the stone-flagged street that led from the guild center, and the space between them was wide and empty.

The first person to appear in that space was Marielle.

Waves of green hair and an innocent smile that made it seem as if light was streaming in. Her large, attractively swaying bosom was squeezed into a jacket with a crisp, clean design, and she walked with a spring in her step.

It might have disqualified her as a fashion model, but it was very much like her to wave in all four directions with both hands when she reached the end of the corridor that served as a stage.

Good grief, Mari… She really doesn’t let anything get her down.

The gesture made Shiroe feel as if he might be getting a headache, or possibly as if he’d been encouraged. The next to appear was Henrietta, and then Akatsuki.

Ordinarily, Henrietta dressed like a secretary, as though it was a uniform she’d been issued; and Akatsuki, similarly, dressed in black from head to toe like a ninja. However, just for today, they’d changed their looks for the cause. The two of them wore the slightly ethnic-style casual tunics and wrap skirts the Crescent Moon League was selling. The costumes were arranged differently, and in them, the pair looked like sisters.

The difference in their heights made them look like sisters who were drastically different in age, but he’d keep that to himself. Shiroe made this decision, laughing a little, as he saw Henrietta pick Akatsuki up and nuzzle her in an excess of excitement, even as she nailed a splendid turn.

Nearly unconscious of the spectators’ gazes—which might have made it a blessing for Akatsuki—the two joked around with each other, but when they reunited with Marielle, they headed into the plaza. Parting the astonished crowd, they approached Raynesia, caught her by the arm and pulled her to her feet. That self-assured attitude was just like Marielle.

Akatsuki came up behind Raynesia and whispered something to her. From the way Raynesia went pale, she’d probably threatened her again. Marielle took Raynesia right out into the square, then began to spin around, pulling in Henrietta and Akatsuki as well.

A show like this would be seen by far more people out here than it would have if they’d held it in the hall. Light cast down by Firebirds resting their wings on guild buildings’ roofs illuminated attendees’ profiles, and the repeated bursts of applause were like ocean surf, approaching and receding.

The lively music was a nostalgic pop song from the old world. The slightly old-fashioned melody was recreated on medieval instruments.

Raynesia was bewildered and kept looking around, flustered, but at times like that, beautiful girls had it good. Even in the sort of fashion you’d see in a town on Earth—something she probably wasn’t used to wearing—all she had to do was smile apologetically and it couldn’t have suited her better.

“…Shiroe…”

“Good work, Minori.”

At the voice which hesitantly addressed him, Shiroe lifted his gaze from the plaza. Minori was coming toward him across the elevated walkway from the guild center. She wore a complicated expression that was proud and happy, yet hesitant and shy.

Shiroe didn’t know what this small companion of his was thinking, but he knew what sort of role she’d played during the daylong uproar. She’d stayed by Calasin’s side, carrying out the duties of the headquarters that had supported the handling of the entire affair. The responsibility had been as heavy as managing a full raid.

“Have a seat.”

“Huh? But…”

As Minori hung back, Shiroe indicated a spot next to himself on the wooden bench. For some reason, Minori looked as if she felt very small and embarrassed. Shiroe polished another glass he’d taken out of his bag for her and filled it with the same fruit tea he was drinking.

“…Um…”

“Thank you. And well done.”

“Y-yessir.”

Minori’s voice cracked, and her spine was stretched very straight; it was funny, and Shiroe laughed a little. Did Minori understand what the work she’d done had been worth?

Timidly, holding the glass in both hands, Minori took a tiny sip. Below their feet, illuminated by torches, Bug Light Lamps, and summoned magical creatures, the lively festival spread as far as they could see.

At the very least, Minori’s hands had protected a fraction of that liveliness.

Small hands, thought Shiroe.

Still, the tiny hands of this middle school girl were the hands of a fighter. They were hands that held the resolve to protect their post to the death.

When Minori had told him she was helping with the work at the Liaison Committee, he’d thought it was unexpected, but at the same time, it had made sense to him somehow. He’d spent time with Minori, and had sensed the irrepressible positivity within this little girl.

Her twin brother had the same dynamic energy, but while Touya had promptly chosen the path of combat and martial arts, Minori seemed to have hesitated over her choice. However, the undirected will inside Minori hadn’t been able to stay that way forever.

In the place she herself had chosen, Minori had pulled off an extraordinary feat Shiroe had never even hoped for.

She’s far more level-headed than I am…

Inwardly, Shiroe gave a self-deprecating sigh. Every memory he had of his own days as a middle schooler made him want to cover his eyes.

There was his past self, and however he looked, he couldn’t find the sort of strength Minori had, the sort that was open to the outside. He remembered having been a typical, overly self-conscious, wince-worthy middle schooler. Back then, Shiroe had thought himself cool because he was different from other people; he hadn’t realized that the part of him that was different was actually exactly like those other people.

Just remembering it was embarrassing.

“Um, Shiroe…”

“Hm?”

“Aren’t you going to go greet her? I mean, aren’t we the only guild on the Round Table Council that hasn’t gone to greet the princess?”

Shiroe shrugged his shoulders vaguely.

“I saw her a little bit ago.”

Those words hung in the air for a long time, but soon a cheer welled up from below their feet, drowning them out. Had some guild revealed an avant-garde outfit? Shiroe listened to the reports that came in by telechat, occasionally giving brief responses. After a rather long interval, Minori asked a new question.

“It’s on purpose…isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“…I’m sorry, Shiroe.”

Minori bowed her head, shamefacedly.

“It’s nothing to apologize for. It isn’t anything to make public, either.”

“But I…I meddled, and I was trying to take you to the dinner party… Even though there wasn’t any need to, now that I think about it. You’re one of the eleven guilds; there’s no way they wouldn’t have sent you an invitation. In other words…you were planning to make Princess Raynesia dislike you, right from the start, weren’t you.”

It wasn’t even a question at this point. She was confirming it.

She’s a terribly sharp kid.

That said, it hadn’t been such a difficult plan to see through in the first place. There were many others on the Round Table Council who’d caught on. In addition, the maneuver couldn’t work without companions who saw through it to a certain extent.

“Krusty’s on better terms with the princess. In order to get discussions moving, it’s convenient to have someone who’s liked and someone who isn’t. That true in terms of the future as well.”

“……”

“The princess’s position is shaky. Right now, she has everyone’s sympathy because of her beauty, her straightforward temperament, and her hardworking sincerity, but that won’t last forever. The princess currently likes Akiba, but we don’t know how long that will last, either. Of course, the relationship between the People of the Earth and the Adventurers has shown great improvement. Still, we don’t know how long things will stay that way. There may be all sorts of situations where coercive maneuvers are necessary. Without a doubt, a time will come that makes this incident look like nothing at all. For the sake of that time as well, we need to assign roles.”

Of course, the strategy depended on Krusty supporting the princess’s feelings. When he’d realized this, Krusty had looked cross, but there hadn’t been any help for it: That was his role. He was, at the very least, the Adventurer who represented the Round Table Council, and it would be a problem if he didn’t shoulder burdens of that size.

In any case, from what Shiroe had seen, being forced to go along with Shiroe’s plan had been the part Krusty hadn’t liked. Even if he’d been left to his own devices, Shiroe figured that Krusty would have helped the princess regardless.

Besides—

Following his flowing thoughts, Shiroe strained his eyes to see the threshold of his vision of what would be. In the midst of a mass of indistinct predictions, he could see a pale future.

That princess with the troublesome personality needed Krusty.

Krusty also needed the princess—or so he wanted to believe.

“You don’t mind that…Shiroe?”

“Why?”

Part of his mind caught Minori’s words, and Shiroe’s thoughts were cut short. Shiroe’s companion wore an expression that seemed troubled, and distressed, and sad.

“Because…”

Minori faltered. He waited for the rest of her explanation, but the words didn’t come.

“The disadvantage to Log Horizon, you mean? …Regarding that, at a certain stage, I’m thinking of asking Captain Nyanta to act as the leader and go to greet Princess Raynesia separately. At an appropriate dinner party or something, you know. Of course, you’ll be going as well, Minori, so you should probably dress up. That sky-blue outfit the other day was cute.”

At Shiroe’s words, Minori’s anguish seemed to deepen.

Shiroe scratched his head, wondering if he’d given the wrong answer. Apparently she hadn’t liked what he’d said, or he’d directed it the wrong way.

“Isn’t that painful for you, Shiroe?”

“……”

Oh, Shiroe thought. I guess it might look that way, too. That was something he hadn’t factored in. It was such an ordinary sentiment that he hadn’t even thought of it.

“No, not at all. It’s normal.”

“……”

Minori seemed to have a very hard time accepting this idea.

Even though it was no more than necessary deployment and putting the right person in the right place, according to a plan.

Minori’s lips were pressed together, and she was really serious. Her large eyes looked as if they might tear up, her cheeks were flushed and tense, and her eyebrows had shot up as if she were angry. Everything showed that she had no intention of giving an inch.

“The way you assisted the PGLC this time was a big help, Minori. What you did was worth more than having another ten business staff members on-site. You were fantastic.”

At Shiroe’s words, Minori blinked.

“Similarly, Minori—if there’s something in front of you that needs to be done, and you’re able to do it, and someone wants you to, I think it’s a good thing. You can be proud of that. If, by doing it, you’re able to connect with something else, I think that’s also fine.”

Minori looked troubled.

That was only natural. Even Shiroe wasn’t saying this sort of thing because he understood. On the contrary, he’d avoided being involved with a guild because it seemed like too much trouble, and he wasn’t even qualified to talk like this. Even when viewed moderately, these were the sort of lines that should be said by people like Michitaka and Krusty, people who’d been leading their own guilds for a long time.

However, Shiroe had acquired companions too, and there were a few things he’d learned for the first time by creating his own guild. Even if you got stronger all by yourself, you were just a ghost. Strength gained that way was empty, not focused on anything. It was no more than spectral power, power whose touch the outside world could not feel, and could not be made to feel.

Strength you acquired on your own was still strength, of course, but Shiroe thought that in order to use that strength, you needed companions, and in order for those companions to live, you needed the world. Right now, its shape was still vague and unclear, but to Shiroe, Log Horizon was an important place that overflowed with that sort of thing.

“I’ll work just as hard as you’re working, Minori.”

Minori nodded with a face that seemed troubled or maybe angry, and surely heartrendingly sad. All Shiroe could do was feel sorry. In the end, the only answer he’d been able to give to this middle schooler’s effort and questions had been evasive and incomplete.

Not only that, but he felt as if he’d been both scolded and encouraged.

There was no help for that, either.

The day’s award for distinguished service went to this little girl. He was genuinely happy that this MVP was one of his companions. The fact that he’d taught her a little bit tickled him. Being looked up to as a senior member or teacher wasn’t a bad feeling at all.

Smiling wryly, Shiroe nodded again.

“I’ll work hard so I don’t cause trouble for you, Minori.”

4

Akatsuki, who’d run up the gray stairway muffling her rapid breathing, stopped abruptly. It would have been all right to go straight up to him as usual, but she couldn’t do it: She didn’t want Shiroe to notice she was out of breath.

Besides, the clothes she was wearing were feminine, something Henrietta had forced her into. The costume had fluttery bits here and there, and although it looked cute, it was too light. Akatsuki was used to combat wear. It made her feel defenseless, as if she were walking around half naked.

It also wasn’t the least bit stealthy, so it wasn’t a convenient outfit for sneaking up on Shiroe.

Slipping into the shadow of an ancient tree that hung out over the elevated walkway, Akatsuki caught her breath. She didn’t want Shiroe to think she’d gotten agitated and come running up.

Over the past few days, Akatsuki had felt as if the distance between herself and Shiroe had gotten just a little smaller. Yesterday night at the guild hall, she’d touched his hair. It had been cooler than she’d expected, yet completely different from her own hair. A man’s hair. It had been smooth and thick, and it had tickled Akatsuki’s slim fingers as it fell. The sensation of his hair was still on her fingertips.

Just touching it had made her happy, and the experience had made her smile. When she’d assumed a glum expression on purpose and told Shiroe it was fun, Shiroe had looked bewildered and echoed her words back as a question.

That had been fun, too.

However, as a result of the decision to catch her breath, Akatsuki ended up eavesdropping.

Shiroe stood looking down over the firelit plaza from the elevated walkway, and there was a girl next to him.

It was Minori, one of Akatsuki’s companions from Log Horizon.

Minori and Shiroe’s conversation came to her, faintly, on the night wind that blew across Akiba.

“It’s on purpose…isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“…I’m sorry, Shiroe.”

At first she didn’t understand what they were talking about.

“It’s nothing to apologize for. It isn’t anything to make public, either.”

“But I…I meddled, and I was trying to take you to the dinner party… Even though there wasn’t any need to, now that I think about it. You’re one of the eleven guilds; there’s no way they wouldn’t have sent you an invitation. In other words…you were planning to make Princess Raynesia dislike you, right from the start, weren’t you.”

At those words, Akatsuki very nearly made a noise.

He’d meant to make himself unpopular? Shiroe?

That was a perspective Akatsuki hadn’t even considered.

At the unexpected exchange, Akatsuki forgot to call out to Shiroe. All she could do was listen. The autumn wind kept snatching the pair’s conversation away, and it came to her in bits and pieces.

Akatsuki thought about Minori’s words—You were planning to make Princess Raynesia dislike you—and as she understood what they implied, a little chill ran down her spine. Akatsuki had heard Shiroe’s words as well, so she understood that someone had interfered with Akiba that day.

She was also aware that Shiroe had headed it off, even if she didn’t know the details of his methods.

However, Akatsuki hadn’t thought about it the way Minori had.

Unlike Minori, she’d never thought about how Shiroe looked to others.

Unlike Minori, she hadn’t thought about what might happen to Log Horizon’s position.

Unlike Minori, she hadn’t distanced herself from Shiroe to go fight for his sake.

—Unlike Minori, she hadn’t tried to rescue Shiroe from his pain.

Inside Akatsuki’s flat chest, her heart began to pound.

Shiroe had seemed so close up until last night. Was he getting further and further away from her now? The idea was pure terror.

A loneliness like that of a small child abandoned in the darkness set up a wordless moan inside her chest.

Shiroe was going far away.

Or, no, had he always been far away?

Had the thought that he was beside her been no more than an illusion?

Ever since the day Shiroe had rescued her, she’d stayed close to him. She’d called him her liege, become his shadow, swung her katana to protect him. Meanwhile, she’d felt she was also being protected by Shiroe, but even that had been pleasant.

However, Akatsuki might have been the only one who thought they were protecting each other.

At the very least, I don’t understand my liege that way…

It hurt to admit that.

She was inferior to her guild mate, that middle school girl.

The bitterness and pain of admitting she was losing were accompanied by the sensation of falling, as though the ground under her feet had frozen, turned brittle, and was crumbling away.

Akatsuki had unconsciously gripped a kunai, but now even that was wavering weakly. She’d come to a dim realization as well.

It was about her own limits, and what they meant.

It was true that Assassins boasted the greatest attack power of all the classes. Akatsuki herself had taken pride in continuing her combat training. Her attack power and individual combat abilities were probably top class, among all the Adventurers. However, although top class was top class, she was no more than a member of the top class.

Akatsuki had never participated in a large-scale battle before.

There was no help for that. Up until now, she’d been a solo player, not affiliated with any guild, and she’d led an aloof life. In order for solo players to participate in raids, they had to be picked up to fill vacancies when guilds recruited or wanted temporary participants. It was also possible to belong to a special group like the Debauchery Tea Party, but that had been an extremely rare case. It was quite a lot of work to gather Adventurers who weren’t connected with guilds and create a group. It would have been easier to just start a guild, and that would have made it easier to gain honor.

In the first place, raids were a highly difficult style of play that required repeated practice in teamwork and combat. Conducting them with anything other than fixed members could mean only lowering the success rate of the entire operation. There was a good reason that big guilds equaled big raids.

Shiroe, Nyanta, and Naotsugu had all been solo players or members of small guilds, but they were super-top-class Adventurers who’d accumulated training in the Debauchery Tea Party, the best environment on the server.

In comparison, although naturally Akatsuki was top class and had trained to the limit for a solo player, in terms of completeness of equipment, skill in working with others, and knowledge, she wasn’t super-top-class.

Am I…a fake…?

She hugged herself. Her body was trembling slightly.

The combat skills she’d always relied on, the skills she’d declared would let her protect Shiroe, weren’t super-top-class. She’d known as much, but reconfirming this fact shattered Akatsuki’s pride to smithereens.

Still, if that had been all, it would have been all right. Raids were a difficult play style that required cooperation from large groups. There were probably countless Adventurers who hadn’t experienced them.

However, a mere Kannagi, one whose level was still low, was using a method Akatsuki had never even thought of and attempting to stand beside Akatsuki’s liege. To Akatsuki, who had been proud of her combat skills and had made them the focus of her life in this other world, this was a shocking fact.

“What you did was worth more than having another ten business staff members on-site. You were fantastic.”

Shiroe’s voice echoed over and over.

Not only had the girl Minori read Shiroe’s thoughts, she’d fought on her own battlefield in order to lessen his burden. A little girl, a mere middle schooler, whose level wasn’t even half Akatsuki’s, had exercised the strength she had and soared past Akatsuki to the heights. And, on top of that, Minori had worried about Shiroe.

Shiroe, lonely. Akatsuki had never even imagined it.

That girl had attempted to soothe his loneliness.

That fact shattered Akatsuki. The awareness of it bit into her chest like broken glass, stealing the words she’d meant to say to Shiroe.

5

Little by little, the dinner party turned into a banquet in the plaza, but it was fantastically well received by all the residents of Akiba. By the end, Raynesia was limp. She had used up all her strength, but when she slumped onto the bench and gave a little wave, people thought she was adorable. Beautiful girls come out on top, no matter what they do.

Meanwhile, Shiroe continued to watch the party with Minori. That said, because Shiroe was still the acting counselor as far as the security system was concerned, all he could do was fire off telechats from the overhead walkway and occasionally speak with his companion.

Then that night ended, and the third day arrived.

During the afternoon of the final day, because it was a festival and those didn’t come around often, Shiroe and the rest of Log Horizon decided to get together and go look around the flea market.

Unlike at the autumn clothing and accessories exhibition, there were all sorts of things for sale at the flea market, from weapons and defensive gear to furniture; guild house facilities and equipment; as well as books and scrolls, foodstuffs, and monster drop items.

There were also crowds of People of the Earth peddlers who’d come from far-flung towns specifically for the this part of the event.

Feeling nostalgic, Nyanta and Shiroe looked around to see if there was any merchandise from the village they’d stopped at on the way back from Susukino, but they didn’t find any. Instead, Nyanta purchased some splendid salt pork ribs.

With this much merchandise in one place, it was only natural that the members’ acquisitiveness was at full throttle. Touya bought a new Japanese-style helmet decorated with braided red thread, and Naotsugu stocked up on potions.

After Minori and Nyanta talked to him about it, Shiroe decided to dip into the guild’s budget, and they bought a shared water tank and several rugs. They needed a variety of goods for winter, and there was so much merchandise here that they were spoiled for choice.

Following the banquet the previous night, Akatsuki had gone back to wearing her drab, black clothes. Today, the third day, her usual expression—the one that was so dignified it looked almost cross—had returned, and she was silently guarding Shiroe. Shiroe thought that, since it was a festival, she could have worn something a bit less plain, but Akatsuki seemed to have her own code.

Akatsuki had been visibly tired that morning, but Naotsugu teased her, and by evening, she was back to her usual self. When she called him “Stupid Naotsugu” while planting a flying knee-kick in his face, it looked just the same as it always did. Lately, even Shiroe had grown able to watch it with a wry smile.

As Shiroe had anticipated, the attack on the Round Table Council seemed to have died away completely. Once countered, this type of attack was hard to continue. He’d expected this, and Shiroe and the others enjoyed their first day off in a long time.

By and by the sun set, and Akiba plunged into the festival wrap party. There had been a banquet the previous night, and this time there was a full-fledged feast. Since it was being hosted by the Round Table Council, several liquor barrels were set in front of the guild center, and it turned into a lively gathering in which anyone could participate.

The Round Table Council had considered taking this opportunity to implement several support measures for the small and midsized guilds. One such measure was to issue invitations to solo players who were still unaffiliated with a guild. In addition, the topic of making single departments of major guilds independent had come up for discussion. At the banquet, even as they got drunk on liquor, young Adventurers debated.

Raynesia, back in her customary dress, was probably also attending the festival, which was illuminated by bonfires. Naturally, Michitaka, Krusty, Isaac, Calasin, Roderick, Marielle, and other prominent members of the Round Table Council were probably draining glasses to strengthen connections with acquaintances and old friends and create new bonds.

Although there had been a lot of trouble, Akiba’s Libra Festival ended its mission in success. In the light of the bonfires, no doubt the guild mates of Log Horizon were also praising each other’s hard work and storing up the energy they’d need starting the next day.

And so the October Libra Festival came to an end, with few people even aware that there had been trouble. It proved to be a turning point for the town of Akiba.