1

“So, how about givin’ up? G’wan, g’wan. Just give up and let me take care of you. I won’t do anythin’ mean.”

“Mari. You sound like a lecherous middle-aged man.”

“Ah, ah-wah-wah!”

Akatsuki sat on the edge of the sofa, shooting glances at the chaos in the middle of the room.

The wallpaper in this beautiful guest room was brand-new—a gentle pale pink hue. The interior decoration and furnishings were suffused with a feminine elegance. There was a delicate tea service on the coffee table. This, together with the women who had descended upon the room, made the atmosphere bright and cheerful.

Raynesia, the room’s mistress, was smiling with as much composure as ever, but a subtle hint of bewilderment showed through. Well, that was only to be expected.

The outfit Marielle was trying to put on her was what people called a “nurse uniform.”

Even Akatsuki thought that was too adventurous.

“That garment is a bit too…um…small for me…”

Raynesia shook her head in a little trembling motion that made her look like a rabbit, but Oh, Akatsuki thought, that was the wrong reaction. Sure enough: “Don’t you worry! Our seamstresses made that custom, and it’s just your size!” Marielle declared, catching her.

Refusing in a roundabout way like that didn’t work on Marielle. On Henrietta…it probably wouldn’t work either, Akatsuki thought. She shook her head again.

“Um, like this? This way, right?”

“No, that isn’t it. Eek!”

“Mari… Really, you shouldn’t use your hands like that…”

“Ah-wah-wah!”

The flustered one was Serara. That said, even as she dithered, when Marielle told her things like, “Grab me that headband,” she did so obediently, making it clear what the hierarchies inside the Crescent Moon League were at times like this.

“You aren’t going to rescue her?”

The Adventurer who sat across from Akatsuki, holding her teacup elegantly, was a woman called Riezé. An upper-class young lady with saffron blond hair, she was a Sorcerer affiliated with D.D.D. She was a slim, beautiful girl, and Akatsuki had heard that she was captain of the training unit.

In response to Riezé’s question, Akatsuki shook her head slightly.

The Assassin was rather familiar with this sort of situation. After all, until just a little while ago, she’d been the one taking damage in the spot Raynesia now occupied. While the main aggressor at the time had been Henrietta, not Marielle, she’d experienced the situation itself in a general way.

She was fully aware that if she was foolish enough to attempt a rescue now, the result would be a secondary disaster, or rather, that the number of victims would double. Just like everyone else, Akatsuki valued her own life.

In short, at present, this room had turned into a dress-up chamber sponsored by the Crescent Moon League.

“I see.”

Without particularly reproaching her for it, Riezé dropped her gaze to her tea.

Akatsuki picked up a bean jam bun from a plate and took a small bite. It was sweet and delicious. One of the perks of this mission.

It was strange to call this chaotic tea party a mission, but that was how Akatsuki thought of it.

In any case, she was here because Shiroe had asked her to come. It might have been a small request, but to Akatsuki, it was an unmistakable link to Shiroe. That had been a month ago, but still Akatsuki continued to attend this tea party.

At first, Akatsuki had been the only one.

She’d drunk tea in the midst of an uncomfortable silence, under Raynesia’s dubious gaze, and had taken her leave after fifteen minutes. After a week, Marielle had joined them. Sometimes Marielle came by herself, and sometimes, like today, she brought friends from the Crescent Moon League. After that, starting with Riezé, who was drinking tea in front of her, women from several guilds had begun attending.

To be honest, it wasn’t a mission she was very enthusiastic about.

She’d gotten used to Marielle, Henrietta, Serara, and the other Crescent Moon League women, but attending with members from other guilds was mentally exhausting. She was bad at conversing with relative strangers. She couldn’t talk well, and Akatsuki thought the people she talked to must feel let down, too.

Unexpectedly, aside from the Crescent Moon League members, the first person she’d grown able to talk to was Raynesia.

In all, there were probably about fifteen female Adventurers who stopped by for the tea party. Marielle attended fairly frequently, but even then, it was only two or three times a week. Each of the other members belonged to their own guilds and had various duties.

Akatsuki was about the only one who attended every day… Although this was purely because she wanted to keep her promise to Shiroe to the greatest extent possible.

“Well, I’ll be! What pretty skin. That’s a princess for ya.”

“M-Miss Akatsuki. Um, h-help.”

“Ah-wah-wah-wah-wah…”

“Nah, nah. I’m tellin’ you, I won’t treat you rough!”

That said, it was because they kept seeing each other, not because they’d become friends or anything. She’d become able to make small talk with her, that was all.

…And so it was a problem to be asked for help like this. After all, until just a little while ago, she’d been prey herself. She huddled down, thinking that if she made herself small and stayed seated, the storm might pass over. However, maybe it made her look funny: She caught Henrietta’s eye.

“Akatsuki, dear. Why are you huddling up?”

“!”

Akatsuki flinched, denying it, and Henrietta gave a pleasant laugh. However, for today, she seemed to have given up on the chase. Simply teasing her seemed to have been satisfaction enough.

Looking worn out, Raynesia came to take refuge next to Akatsuki. Even after having been toyed with so much, she sat gracefully, with her knees neatly together. Her expression was the same as always, too, but her lowered gaze seemed tired.

Akatsuki poured tea into Raynesia’s cup as well.

She understood that fatigue perfectly.

The principal offender, Marielle, was rummaging through her Magic Bag, taking out new outfits and lining them up. Serara was being compelled to help.

Alarmingly, swimsuits and similar things had begun to appear in the parade of outfits… Even though it was winter. She began to feel sorry for Raynesia.

Raynesia was a truly beautiful girl. Her slender neck was delicate, and she must have been fine-boned: The line of her shoulders sloped gently, her face was small, and her long silver hair was as lustrous as silk thread. She was quiet and modest; she always had a faint smile on her face, and she never raised her voice in anger. She was a true upper-class young lady.

Oh, but she’s a princess. Isn’t that different from an upper-class young lady?

That was what Akatsuki thought, but she satisfied herself with the idea that “princess” in this case was like a higher-ranking class for “young lady,” so it was more as if the grade had been raised.

Akatsuki and Raynesia’s first meeting had been a barbarous one.

The day they’d resolved to make for Zantleaf, on Shiroe’s instructions, she’d helped Raynesia change. —Or rather, she’d stripped her and made her change clothes. That had been their first encounter. As that was the case, Akatsuki thought Raynesia must think she was a very violent person. Just after the tea parties started, Raynesia had been rather frightened of her, and even now, she was a bit nervous around her sometimes.

However, even then, she didn’t outright avoid her, and she paid attention to what Akatsuki said.

It was clear that she thought carefully about each topic and responded as thoughtfully as she could, to the extent that it made one think, impressed, So this is what a well-bred princess is like. All in all, she was pleasant company, and because her memory was good, once you’d spoken with her about a topic, she understood it. Akatsuki thought she could understand why she was popular.

“Are Adventurers generally able to wear outfits like this to good effect?”

Raynesia spoke up, sounding puzzled. It was a nurse outfit. With a miniskirt, no less. Raynesia wasn’t tall either, but the balance between her head and body was good, and her bust curved prettily, so it suited her. Akatsuki shook her head, feeling rather awkward. No matter how you looked at it, only a sparse handful of Adventurers wore clothes like that on a daily basis. (The fact that there were a few who did was due to the influence of Elder Tales’ game culture.)

Upon seeing that response, Raynesia looked even more dejected.

She was a beautiful girl who looked like a perfect picture no matter what she did, so even depressed, she was adorable. Akatsuki felt even odder.

If I was like that, too, would things with my liege have been…a little different?

That was what she thought.

However, on the other hand, Raynesia didn’t have an Adventurer’s body or an Assassin’s abilities. She wouldn’t be able to stay by Shiroe’s side and guard him. I wouldn’t like that, Akatsuki thought. It was unnecessary. She knew that. However, there was no way to stop the blood that seeped from the wound in her heart.

“…Yes… Yes. It’s a nurse outfit… Pardon? Yes. A nurse outfit. In other words, the uniform worn by girls engaged in medical care… Hmm.”

Riezé had abruptly begun murmuring.

A telechat.

Raynesia looked blank, but Akatsuki began to feel embarrassed.

“No, nothing so halfway. It’s fifteen centimeters above her knees, if you can believe it.”

Apparently Raynesia had registered her gaze as well; she tried desperately to pull the hem of the nurse outfit toward her knees. However, the cloth wasn’t stretchy, and doing so didn’t hide her legs. In fact, when it was pulled taut, the cloth only emphasized the lines of Raynesia’s slim body.

“Um.” At her wits’ end, Raynesia looked to Akatsuki for help, with eyes that said, Please do something. However, Akatsuki wasn’t used to this sort of situation either. Riezé was proper and ladylike, but she sometimes grew mischievous like this without warning. “Hrrn,” Akatsuki grunted quietly, directing a reproachful gaze at Riezé.

Giving a light, pleasant laugh, with one hand set casually against her ear, Riezé feigned innocence: “I’m only joking. It isn’t a real telechat.” What awful taste. Raynesia was also gazing up at Riezé through her lashes.

However, Riezé made a small bow to Raynesia.

“My apologies. I was a bit jealous.”

“What…?”

“Milord is infatuated with you, Princess Raynesia. So much so that when I’m sent over to play—I mean, to guard you—I’m released from training for the day.”

A heavy ache.

It was probably true.

Akatsuki and Marielle had discussed it, and that had been their conclusion as well.

No doubt this People of the Earth princess would need to be guarded. That made perfect sense. As the Libra Festival incident had shown, there was a force that was attempting to attack Akiba, and it was clear that, in order to inflict damage on the town, that force wouldn’t hesitate to involve the People of the Earth.

At the worst, even if Adventurers lost their lives, they could revive in the Temple, but that wasn’t an option for the People of the Earth. Not to mention that, if Raynesia lost her life now, great trouble was sure to ensue. For example, their relationship with Duke Sergiad—Raynesia’s grandfather in the city of Maihama, and the leading lord of Eastal—would sour, and in the worst case, break down entirely.

Naturally, Princess Raynesia was closely guarded by People of the Earth knights dispatched from the city of Maihama. However, People of the Earth were People of the Earth, and their levels were around 30. If an Adventurer seriously tried to kill Princess Raynesia, it would be difficult for them to guard her.

Of course, the town of Akiba had a guard system and a barrier that detected acts of violence. However, it was a function intended to capture or subjugate those who had committed violent acts, and although it might catch the culprit, if Raynesia had died, it had no function that would resurrect her.

Akatsuki thought Shiroe had asked her to do this job because he’d anticipated those circumstances. Marielle said she’d also been casually asked for help. Now, when Shiroe was unable to move a step, all Akatsuki could do was use everything in her power to comply with his request.

However, when she heard the exact same circumstances slip from the lips of the elegant girl who belonged to D.D.D., they brought pain along with them.

She stopped being able to look directly at Raynesia, the girl Shiroe was concerned about.

Even Akatsuki didn’t know when she’d become so weak.

This isn’t me. I’m not like this.

I know I wasn’t like this.

She was happy Shiroe was counting on her.

Even so, here she was, comparing herself with Raynesia and the other women around her.

She wanted to get stronger. She wanted to comply with Shiroe’s request.

She was doing her very, very best to do both. Even so, for some reason, Akatsuki’s world was always dark and cramped. That hurt her.

Surrounded by bright laughter, Akatsuki was all alone.

2

Sunset came early in winter, and by the time they left the manor, even the afterglow had faded completely.

Henrietta thought that nights in Akiba were beautiful. Compared to the old world, to her hometown of Tokyo, they were gloomy, but in comparison with the pitch-blackness of deep night in this world, they seemed quite dazzling enough.

A forest of buildings the color of darkness, towering in the indigo night. The spreading canopies of ancient evergreens. The scene was softly illuminated by magical lights that had been hung here and there. Henrietta thought those whimsical lights were much gentler than glaring neon signs, and far preferable.

“Dusk falls early these days, doesn’t it.”

“It really does.”

Henrietta agreed with the blond girl who was walking beside her.

Her companion took a voluminous muffler out of her Magic Bag and wound it around her neck. From the way the extra at the ends hung down her back, it seemed to have been made for a man. “What is this, anyway? It’s hard to wear. Bulky, too.” The girl looked adorable in the getup as she grumbled, and Henrietta rearranged the muffler for her.

With the lower half of her expression buried in the scarf, Riezé replied to the assistance, “Thank you very much.” She was quite possibly embarrassed; she kept her eyes averted as she spoke.

“No, no, it was nothing,” Henrietta responded, giggling.

This new, younger friend of hers looked like a flawlessly perfect, proper young lady on the outside, and it was likely that the girl herself probably wanted to adhere to that image, but her true colors showed through here and there, and it was very cute. She was probably younger than she looked.

“You needn’t work so hard. You’re quite enough of a lady already.”

“Pardon?”

She smiled at Riezé, who’d turned back to look at her, and pushed her shoulder.

“All right, come on. If we don’t hurry, they’ll close on us.”

“True.”

In this way, the two of them set off for the central avenue.

Henrietta was a member of the Crescent Moon League, while Riezé belonged to D.D.D. However, although their guilds were different, it wasn’t unusual for them to go home from the tea party at Water Maple Manor together like this. Marielle and Serara had returned to the guild a bit earlier to help with the dinner preparations, and Henrietta and Riezé planned to take a slight detour and buy a few side dishes.

Being able to enjoy delicious food every day was a happiness the Adventurers had rediscovered in their lives after the Catastrophe, but it was also a bit of a burden. In order to make food that tasted like anything, the subclass “Chef” was necessary, and as far as Henrietta knew, such players made up only a small percentage of the population.

Following the establishment of the Round Table Council, players had switched subclasses and the percentage had grown. However, it wasn’t unusual for small guilds with ten members or less to have no Chefs among their members. Meanwhile, it was only natural to find Chefs in huge guilds with several hundred members, but preparing meals for several hundred people every day was a great burden.

At present, dining out and take-out meals prepared by People of the Earth were compensating for these circumstances.

“What will you buy, Miss Henrietta?”

“Fried chicken, perhaps. Mari has been whining that she wants some.”

They’d reached the food stall mall, and, chatting, they began to make their purchases. The People of the Earth salesclerks were old hands at this as well. In terms of time, they were thinking of getting ready to close up their stalls, and they raised their voices, trying to sell off the day’s remaining wares.

“Fried chicken? Did you say fried chicken, miss? Buy mine! It’s garlic-flavored, and it’s yours for three gold coins per kilo!!”

Henrietta, lavishly, purchased three kilos of the stuff.

There were forty hungry Adventurers at the Crescent Moon League, and an amount like this wouldn’t count as a lot. They’d polish it off in no time flat.

Next to her, Riezé was buying quiches with hazelnuts. D.D.D. was a major guild with its own cooking unit, so this was probably a present or a snack.

The mall was fairly busy.

In order to weave their way through the river of Adventurers who’d come to shop, Henrietta and Riezé had to pay careful attention to their surroundings. In particular, groups which had returned from the subjugation wore rugged armor and carried long staffs, so they tended to take up more space than people in the old world.

By the time they’d finished buying their preferred items and had reached the mall’s exit, Henrietta’s impressions of the tea party had faded. Just walking through the mall was mentally tiring, and her feelings were focused on the meal ahead at the guild hall.

As a result, when Riezé casually murmured, “Akatsuki looks as if she’s suffering,” the words startled her. Still, Henrietta had been concerned about that lately as well.

“She seems that way to you, too, then?”

“Yes, she does.”

Akatsuki had seemed listless lately. She’d always been rather shy and reserved, and she hadn’t been the type to actively get involved with other people. Since she made things look all right on the surface, most people probably wouldn’t notice, but Henrietta knew. After all, she’d been watching Akatsuki ever since the Catastrophe.

However, she found it a bit unexpected that Riezé had noticed as well. She’d only begun seeing Akatsuki frequently since she started to attend the tea parties held at Raynesia’s manor. In other words, it had only been two weeks or so.

Henrietta’s opinion of Riezé improved a bit.

“Akatsuki has more experience at this than I do, doesn’t she?”

When Riezé said “more experience,” was she referring to age, or did she mean game experience? Henrietta didn’t know, and she nodded vaguely.

“—I don’t really know, either. I do hear she’s a very skilled Assassin. As a matter of fact, I thought she probably was.”

As they left the mall and walked down a road lined with greenery toward the guild center, Riezé continued to murmur. In the cold midwinter air, the girl’s white breath seemed to enfold her words.

“She seems to have come to watch D.D.D. train once. Or rather, I’m not sure it was only once. I mean that I personally noticed her once. She watched us train for more than four hours.”

“Did she…?”

It was the only response Henrietta could give.

She had picked up on Akatsuki’s distress, indirectly. However, what had the few hours she spent watching a top-class combat guild train made that little girl feel? Henrietta could imagine that the pain had probably made her chest groan, but she couldn’t say she understood the pain itself.

Henrietta was an ordinary Adventurer, one who’d never participated in a raid. This world aside, when Elder Tales had been a game, she’d never been among the top-class Adventurers whose names were listed in the rankings.

“At first we thought she wanted to join the guild. It rather sounds like bragging for me to say this, but we aren’t too shabby of an outfit. When it comes to challenging raids, we have the best environment in Akiba— Or at any rate, we work diligently to make it so… Although our staff is composed entirely of morons. As they are morons, when it comes to combat, they’re just like children. No, they are children. More than children. Über-children. They’re high-maintenance children, and they strike out for raids like Americans flocking to a barbecue… And so we thought she wanted to join.”

“I doubt that’s the case.”

“—You’re right. We understood that almost immediately.”

As Henrietta pointed this out, Riezé nodded, with her gaze still turned to the ground.

“We did report it to Milord, just to be safe. Some thought she might be a spy. But his response was ‘Leave her.’ He said to let her watch, unrestricted.”

For a short while, the sound of boots walking over damp fallen leaves continued.

“It appears this rather upset our proud, childish members. I doubt he had misgivings about it, but later on, Milord gave me a special mission…”

The beautiful blond girl’s expression was embarrassed, yet somehow proud. At the sight, Henrietta gave a furtive sigh. Wasn’t having feelings for Krusty almost an act of barbarism? When she remembered the big man who scattered around unreasonable demands with a nonchalant expression, she couldn’t help but feel sympathetic.

However, she pointed out to herself, Akatsuki—who’d fallen for Shiroe—was no different.

In comparison, things were quite peaceful for Henrietta herself.

True, when she thought of Shiroe, she did feel a faint, sweet ache, but the emotion was well within the permissible range. In this world, where there wasn’t much in the way of entertainment, being able to watch Shiroe and Akatsuki—or Shiroe and Minori—being close and savor the ache in her chest was an act similar to reaffirming her own happiness.

Quiet, unreciprocated love from a safe distance. Since she was satisfied with that, it would have been impertinent of her to feel appalled at Riezé and Akatsuki.

“According to Krusty… I mean, Master Krusty, he owes Shiroe a debt of some sort. That’s why he’s allowing Akatsuki to observe without restriction. He also said to accommodate her if anything happens. We aren’t allowed to be aggressively kind to her or to recruit her, but…”

Paying no heed to Henrietta’s thoughts, Riezé stopped speaking.

“Is that how it was…?”

Henrietta thought that that sort of thing could happen.

Even Shiroe probably wasn’t aware of Krusty’s thoughtfulness.

Men seemed to be quite tedious, or rather, roundabout. If he was going to be considerate, why hadn’t he simply spoken to her and heard what she had to say? However, considering Akatsuki’s current position, she thought being spoken to might only have troubled the Assassin.

In any case, I think what dear Akatsuki wants is…probably confidence.

That was difficult.

For a certain type of person, having it was only natural, and they never thought about how to acquire it.

Marielle was like that. Like a golden sunflower, Henrietta’s good friend illuminated her surroundings with boundless light. Henrietta didn’t have the confidence to smile that way. She thought she’d probably never have enough conviction to embrace her surroundings like that, not as long as she lived.

That was something unique to Marielle, something most people, including Henrietta, didn’t have.

On the other hand, Henrietta knew there were people who could never have anything resembling confidence, no matter what they did or how they struggled. For that sort of person, time spent living was probably terrible torture. Henrietta had seen people with frightened, subservient eyes. By the time you were old enough to graduate from college, you’d met several people like that. No matter where they were, that sort of person was either tired and afraid of not fitting in, or they aggressively threatened those around them.

When she considered herself, Henrietta thought she probably fell somewhere in the middle.

She wasn’t able to have unshakeable conviction, the sort of confidence that allowed her to believe she could never lose what was precious to her. However, as a result of hard work and experience, she could anticipate what she would be able to do.

For example, she’d probably be able to stay on good terms with a handful of friends.

She’d be able to do her job well enough that it wouldn’t cause problems for the company.

Marriage… Now that this uproar had occurred and arranged marriages were no longer an option, she honestly didn’t think she’d be able to manage it, but even so, spending her time as her guild’s accountant while poking fun at her friends’ romances would probably make for a surprisingly pleasant future.

It wasn’t likely that she’d find herself playing a heroic part in their endeavors to return to the old world, but she could use the techniques she’d learned so far to protect the younger members.

That was how Henrietta pictured herself.

She couldn’t do what she couldn’t do, but she was able to do what she could.

It was nothing special: an ordinary conclusion drawn by an average person.

“It’s only natural to have wishes that won’t come true,” Riezé murmured, with her face half-buried in her menswear muffler.

Yes, it was only natural.

To ordinary people, it was far too routine.

To most people, living meant getting used to the reality of not being able to have what you wanted. Henrietta was completely used to it. Riezé probably was as well.

That didn’t mean the pain went away.

There was probably no way around getting used to not having things. However, that wasn’t the same as growing numb to the pain of being unable to have them. That was stasis. If you didn’t get used to it, you couldn’t live, but if you grew too used to it, you might as well be dead.

To Henrietta, there was something dazzling about Akatsuki.

That awkward girl had an easily wounded weakness, one Henrietta had numbed in herself on the pretext of growth. It might be a weak point, but it was also an asset.

At the same time, she knew that that tenderness was causing Akatsuki pain.

Henrietta loved Akatsuki, and she didn’t want her to feel that anguish.

However, she thought there really might be no help for it.

She didn’t know how to help her, and in any case, it seemed as though it might not be the sort of thing other people could help with… To the point that, when she looked back at herself, she didn’t know how she’d become the person she was now.

“It looks as though all we can do is simply be with her.”

“…You’re right.”

Riezé probably understood that as well. That was why her response had been a short one.

Honestly, that pitch-black Master Kuroe!

Henrietta heaved a great sigh, being careful not to let Riezé notice.

That young man was too clever by half, but his closest confidante was in distress, and what was he doing? She’d thought Shiroe had the insight to see through anything, but apparently he was blind when it came to this sort of situation.

Or maybe it isn’t that his eyes are good. Maybe he’s simply wearing a telescope he can’t take off.

Thinking something that was just a little rude, Henrietta smiled wryly.

She wanted to be kind enough to Akatsuki to make up for it. Tomorrow she’d bring clothes for Akatsuki as well and make it a dress-up day. Once she hit on that idea, Henrietta’s mood brightened in an instant. As she made a list of the clothes she was mentally pulling out, she excused herself by thinking, This is for Akatsuki’s sake.

The indigo night was still peaceful.

3

There was a force that was attempting to recolor that same night with phenomenal determination.

It was the guild known as “the showiest guild on the Yamato server,” “the harem group,” and “the young ladies with iron discipline”: the West Wind Brigade.

Rumored to have the highest proportion of girls in Akiba (although not all its members were female), as its nickname indicated, the guild always radiated a showy atmosphere. In a first-floor hall, several dozen guild members were enthusiastically making preparations.

Of course, most of the members were girls. However, there was nothing soft about the atmosphere. All sorts of beautiful women and girls were there, briskly tightening wrist guards and leggings, dressed as if headed for a showdown. As they exchanged whispers in low voices, all were indirectly watching Soujirou, their guild leader, in his Japanese-style haori coat.

Soujirou, whose face still held something boyish, looked out over the hall. Twenty-four members were planning to sally forth into Akiba tonight: a team composed of four six-person parties, the same scale as a full raid. Of course, every one of them was skilled and at least level 90.

“Everyone.”

At Soujirou’s voice, the tension in the hall increased. Although twenty-four members were participating in the sortie, others must have been there to help with equipment or see them off: There were more than twice that many members gathered in the hall.

“I know I’ve said this several times already, but we don’t know what the enemy really is. Whatever you do, please don’t get careless. Understand that his power is greater than yours…and mine. Don’t fight him one-on-one. I also forbid independent action. Make sure to move as a team, and report in as necessary. Nazuna will stay here as a contact.”

“Yeah. I took the job, so I’ll do it, but… Don’t do anything reckless, people. If you end up engaging with the target, use top-class combat formation and fight a delaying battle. This time around, we organized things so there’s two healers per team, so you won’t have enough attack power. Don’t think you’ll be able to do anything with just one team. Your duty is to pin ’im down, then call in. That’s it. Okay?”

*   *   *

Nazuna, who wore a loose dressing gown, spoke in a leisurely voice.

The team that was about to head out was tense, and that was enough.

Things would be fine. She believed in her guild mates.

The West Wind Brigade was smaller than D.D.D. or the Knights of the Black Sword, but it had managed to stay in the fierce struggle to be the first one into battle thanks to its firm unity and strong sense of purpose.

Now the West Wind Brigade was talking big about apprehending the criminal.

Nazuna, whose abundant black hair was bound together at her back, gazed at each and every one of the members who were preparing to head out. There had been no oversights, either in equipment or in strategy. Nodding to the guild members, who were all raising cries of “Understood,” Nazuna continued:

“All right, you’ll switch in two hours. We’ll organize the second strike unit and get them ready here. There’ll be a midnight snack waiting when you get back, and it’ll be a good one. Of course, you’ll be heading out again two hours after that, so don’t relax too much. Like Souji said, the other guy outranks us. Be careful about that. Okay, Souji, it’s all you.”

“Hmm. Let’s see. I think you said everything I was going to say. All right, then, just one thing: The target killed one of us. —Cut him down.”

Soujirou was a young man with an atmosphere like spring sunlight.

His vaguely good-natured smile was the same as ever, but those words—which he’d spoken without raising his voice—froze the air in the hall. As if drawn by that cold air, the shoulders of one female Cleric trembled, and she screamed out her determination to get revenge in a voice that seemed to have been wrung from her stomach. It was already completely dark outside, but none of the members paid any attention to that.

The four teams valiantly burst out of the guild hall.

The West Wind Brigade’s guild hall was built to feel rather Japanese.

It hadn’t been that way originally; the change reflected the guild members’ taste and Soujirou’s preferences. Similarly, the first floor was a spacious place, to allow for troop inspections before sallying forth. It was empty, with no furniture.

Pulling a wooden chair into that great hall, Soujirou sat down.

For the moment, he was on standby, but apparently he couldn’t bring himself to withdraw to the dining hall or his own room.

“I hear they’re making miso pork in the dining hall.”

Nazuna spoke to him, thinking she should try, but Soujirou’s only response to her proposal was to smile and shake his head.

Nazuna pinched the tip of her chin and thought.

She’d been this way in the old world as well, and for a woman, she was relatively tall and full-figured. It wasn’t the sort of glamour an idol singer would have, but her figure was good. Although she’d been told she was “easy on the eyes,” as far as she was concerned, her body was a bit too much for her. Apparently, when she stood with her feet apart at shoulder width and crossed her arms, she looked more self-possessed than her age would suggest.

She was the type who was good at looking after people, and since she was also one of the guild’s founding players and one of its longest-serving members, the people around her trusted her completely. As a result, half-inevitably, Nazuna was viewed as the sub-master of the West Wind Brigade. Nazuna herself was aware that she handled more of the practical business than Soujirou did, who led by exercising his charisma.

All the members were good kids who idolized Nazuna, and Nazuna thought they were adorable as well. The West Wind Brigade was Nazuna’s tribe. After living together here since the Catastrophe, she thought of them all as her family.

However, sometimes, when Soujirou let a practical expression show through a crack in his usual mild-mannered mask, it made her remember her old comrades, and then she wanted to lean on him.

Naturally, logic was on Soujirou’s side this time.

Their opponent was a murderer who threatened Akiba’s nights. As one of the eleven guilds on the Round Table Council, the West Wind Brigade bore a certain moral responsibility for the safety of Akiba. Nazuna also acknowledged that the major combat guilds had a duty to patrol the town.

Furthermore, this murderer had killed a West Wind Brigade member.

Of course Kyouko had revived in the Temple. What she’d lost from the incident, memories included, hadn’t been serious. Although Kyouko was afraid of the murderer, even she wasn’t so frightened that she wouldn’t be able to face him again. She’d said so herself. However, an assault was an assault. The murderer had struck at Nazuna’s—and Soujirou’s—family.

That was unforgivable.

Nazuna thought so as well.

She thought Soujirou shared that anger. However, even so, his decision had been a bit too smooth. That was in his personality; he’d been that way ever since he was part of the Debauchery Tea Party. When you called it “carefree” or “unhesitating,” it sounded good, but on the other hand, it leaned toward relentlessness and cruelty.

Nazuna thought Soujirou wasn’t anywhere near as gentle and good-natured as the women of Akiba thought he was. Well, no, he was a gentle, good-natured boy, but it wasn’t because the individual in question was exceptionally good.

He was like that because he was like that. That was all.

Soujirou was kind to women. Almost without exception.

However, it wasn’t because he liked them personally. He was simply “that kind of boy.”

He was giving orders to retaliate against the person who’d struck a girl in his family, not because he had any particularly deep attachment to Kyouko. He was merely “that kind of boy.”

It was a certain type of rule, a mechanical decision, and Nazuna was unable to influence that part of him. She could probably get him to postpone such a decision temporarily, or to cancel it for something else—for example, she could tell him, “Let’s meet up with the Knights of the Black Sword first” or “We should let the Round Table Council handle things this time.”

However, she couldn’t admonish Soujirou, or guide him to grow.

The only ones who could influence Soujirou on that level were Shiroe and Kazuhiko.

Because Soujirou was overly conscious of women as beings who must be protected, Nazuna’s words about certain things would never reach him.

Soujirou was kind to girls. It wasn’t a virtue; it was one of his flaws, and it couldn’t be corrected.

In the West Wind Brigade, people assumed Nazuna was one of Soujirou’s lovers.

However, to Nazuna, Soujirou was something like a little brother.

He was awkward and unsteady, and she couldn’t leave him alone.

The fact that Soujirou was able to present himself as guild master, as if that was normal, was just a fortunate coincidence, with no guarantees and nothing to support it. Nazuna thought the boy named Soujirou Seta was someone who could easily destroy his own guild at any moment.

I mean, I love him. Of course I’m absolutely nuts about him. But.

Unconsciously ruffling Soujirou’s black hair, Nazuna found herself caught up in her thoughts.

She did love him, but—speaking without fear of being misunderstood—the boy was abnormal.

…To the point where he was about on par with the murderer.

If he hadn’t been, he’d never have been able to hold together a guild that consisted of over ninety women. Not only that, but it wouldn’t have been possible to use that system to aim for the top of the server in raid clearings.

“What’s wrong?”

Soujirou spoke to Nazuna; his eyes were round. He’d probably gotten worried because she’d been quiet for so long. But even with her concerns, Nazuna smiled back at him… He was family, so there was no help for it. She’d just have to use what she had to make up for what Soujirou lacked. And they’d have to avenge Kyouko, another family member who’d fallen to the murderer’s blade.

4

The moment a white mist began to gather at her feet, the scent of the wind seemed to soften.

The night shook off the heaviness it had worn like a thick curtain, growing gradually lighter and more transparent. It was a premonition of dawn.

The town of Akiba was still shrouded in darkness, but the chest-crushing pressure of late night was already gone.

The sky was slowly turning a limpid deep blue. Although the silence was unchanged, time flowed on.

Akatsuki had just finished a night of patrolling, and she was tired.

One all-nighter wasn’t enough to affect Adventurer bodies in the least, but scouting had kept her nerves under constant strain, and it had tired her mentally more than physically.

I’m hungry…

She wanted to drink hot potage.

Nyanta’s special potage soup, with lots of corn.

However, right now, she was up on a crumbling elevated track. At Log Horizon, her friends were probably sleeping the deep sleep that came just before dawn. She couldn’t pester them for warmth.

In any case, these late-night wanderings were a secret from her guild mates. She was jealous of the young girl who was her friend, and she wanted to become as strong as the Adventurers in raid guilds, so every night, she slipped out of her home and pursued the murderer. She couldn’t tell her friends about something like that.

As she looked down at the town, which was gradually growing brighter, Akatsuki heaved a deep sigh.

The reason she couldn’t tell, and the reason she felt this tired, was that she was aware that this quest was, at heart, nothing more than her own selfishness. The wish to get stronger was simply her ego. Neither Shiroe nor Naotsugu had asked her to do it. Even Akatsuki knew that chasing the murderer was a bit like trying to grasp at clouds.

True, if she pursued the murderer, she might be able to witness high-ranking guilds in combat.

If that happened, she might get to see the Mysteries they used.

If all went well, she might even find a hint about the rank.

All these things were hypothetical. Haphazard action plans based on “maybes.”

Akatsuki knew this acutely. That was why she couldn’t tell her friends.

Crossing over the main drag, Akatsuki walked along the elevated track toward the center of Akiba.

By now, the darkness had left Akiba, and early morning had come. The cold, cutting wind peculiar to winter mornings stole the warmth from Akatsuki’s cheeks. She’d spent the whole night in her ninja clothes so that she’d be ready for combat at any time, and she’d gotten cold. It had been all right during the night, when she’d stayed on high alert and moved around, but once day had broken, while she’d been gazing vacantly down at the town, she seemed to have gotten chilled.

Her mood wasn’t very cheerful.

Akatsuki thought that was only to be expected. She’d prowled around town all night long, and she had nothing to show for it.

She clambered up onto a big, mossy chunk of concrete, then reached out farther, finally arriving at the top of the rubble. In the old world, this place had probably been a platform on the Chuo Line, but now lots of trees grew here, turning it into a hanging garden. The air was cold, but because the wind was blocked, she could breathe a little easier.

This huge structure wasn’t a separate zone; it was an open, freely accessible object set up in Akiba. That meant there was no set entrance or exit, and if she’d wanted to, she could have jumped down off the elevated track.

Akatsuki thought absently about going down the central staircase and cutting through the guild center square…but then sat down on a decaying bench.

She didn’t think she was that tired.

It was only that she didn’t want to move anymore.

Once she sat, the area around her stomach felt heavy. It felt as if something had curdled there, and she couldn’t stand it.

Akatsuki was surprised at herself.

Why was she sitting on the bench, and why was she staring at the ground? She was forced to face the fact that she’d simply been tormenting herself that much.

She kicked a pebble with her toe. The pebble rolled across the hanging garden which had once been a platform, and was now cracked and crumbling here and there and bristling with ancient trees. She saw a small bird take flight; apparently she’d startled it.

Feeling terribly depressed, Akatsuki found her thoughts meandering.

About the guild. About Shiroe. About vulgar, stupid Naotsugu. About Nyanta and his delicious cooking, about her juniors, about the Crescent Moon League, about the enemies she’d fought before now.

And about Minori.

She thought she was a very feminine girl. She was tidy. She was conscientious, cheerful, not timid, and polite… None of those things were anything special on their own. She was cute, but only on a level that would have made her mildly popular in class, and she tended to be a bit too direct.

She couldn’t cook, and she was a middle schooler, so she certainly didn’t know all the fashionable shops around town. Akatsuki thought Minori’s taste in pouches was childish. When she talked to Shiroe, she frisked around and her voice went high-pitched, and it must have made Shiroe feel fed up with her.

Akatsuki bit her lip hard.

What was she thinking?

Shameful.

Even she thought she was being disgustingly narrow-minded.

The self Akatsuki had seen in the mirror had been ugly, drawn out, and warped. The bitterness of jealousy had accumulated like sediment, and it tortured her. What had Minori done, anyway?

At the very least, she’d probably never held any ill will toward Akatsuki. Even so, privately, she looked down on Minori, thinking of her as a cheeky little kid… Even though she knew that wasn’t really the case. Even though she knew Minori was her lovable, hard-working junior. Even so, she couldn’t hold back the feeling that the girl was just an uppity, annoyingly precocious middle schooler.

As she brooded this way, all alone, she couldn’t take it anymore. The jealousy she was normally able to forget when she was in a crowd flooded her heart. She couldn’t hold the torrent back even if she tried, and it seemed about to swallow her up.

Akatsuki took several deep breaths.

She relaxed her clenched fists.

The deciduous trees had dried up for the winter and lost their leaves, but the conifers were still deep green; it was their shadows that fell over the damp garden.

Somewhere, she heard a twitter, as though someone were shaking a small bell.

It was the little bird she’d seen earlier.

In the winter air, this deserted ruin from the Age of Myth had a bright, crisp beauty to it. Even the clear air, which froze the white breath she exhaled, was an important, irreplaceable element that highlighted that beauty.

In the midst of light that was simply white instead of bright, Akatsuki felt she was a black stain. A black stain that would only spread if scrubbed. Even her dark hair, which she’d been proud of until now, became loathsome at the thought.

When she thought that Shiroe might not like her hair—that he might prefer hair of a brighter color, like Minori’s—she felt as if her stomach had been packed with stones.

…This, even though Akatsuki knew very well that Shiroe wouldn’t base his likes and dislikes on a thing like hair color. Shiroe wouldn’t show favoritism over something as material as tresses.

Even so, all because of her jealousy, Akatsuki had found herself asking: Doesn’t he prefer lighter hair?

She’d spread the filthy jealousy inside her to Shiroe, someone she respected as her liege.

Even as she sat there, Akatsuki’s jealousy was compromising Shiroe.

And I call him “my liege” with this mouth?

Akatsuki finally understood why she’d sat down on this bench.

In short, Akatsuki didn’t want to return to the guild hall.

She was just like an elementary schooler who’d skipped after-school lessons.

That thought struck her as ridiculous, and she laughed. It was a childish escape.

Akatsuki was cold, in pain, and in a wretched mood. It had been her precious, precious place to belong, and she’d been really happy there, but in order to protect that happiness, she’d stayed up all night, chasing after power, and now, after all that, it was hard to go home. Reality, in which she’d gotten her priorities backward, reproached her.

Minori and Touya and the rest of the younger group were out on an overnight hunting trip, so they weren’t there.

If she went back to the guild house, she wouldn’t have to see them. She was well aware that Nyanta would give her a warm welcome.

…And so, not wanting to go back was not Akatsuki’s choice, but her ego’s.

Even she knew that not wanting to be seen in this jealous state was vanity.

However, she couldn’t throw it away.

I want to see my liege.

That was what Akatsuki desired. The wish was so strong it made her chest tight.

She wanted to see Shiroe. She wanted to talk to him, even if it was only a little. She wanted to go up close to him and tug on his white coat. She wanted to pour Black Rose Tea into his teacup from a canteen. She wanted to sit on the sofa with him and look out the window. She wanted to stand beside Shiroe as he looked at complicated documents and made an equally complicated face, and then imitate that complicated face herself.

But that wouldn’t happen. Selfish and vain as she was, she didn’t think she was qualified to set her mind at ease near Shiroe. Not only that, but if she went back there now, she’d never be able to run off again. From this point on, she’d live as a sort of free bonus that came with Shiroe.

She’d thought that wouldn’t be so bad.

She’d thought it would make her happy to be her liege’s ninja, as if she was sunbathing beside him.

However, that had been cheating.

Minori had taught her that she’d only been leaning on him, because it’d made her happy.

A swallow that lost its ability to fly would stop being able to follow Shiroe someday. When that happened, they’d have to part ways.

She’d been thinking the same things for a while now, over and over. In all of them, the subjects were “I” and “mine.” Even she thought it was too self-centered, and it disgusted her.

There probably wasn’t anyone who’d like a girl like that. Akatsuki herself wouldn’t want a friend who was so self-centered that she could only talk about herself.

…And so, she couldn’t see Shiroe now.

It was also an order she’d received from Shiroe, her liege.

“…I’ll stay at an inn today,” she told herself.

Akatsuki forced her heavy body to its feet.

She really shouldn’t have been tired, but she felt oddly listless. It had to be the emotions.

This strange land, caressed by the winter wind, was vast, and no voice answered her call.

5

Raynesia shut her eyes tightly, against the cold.

Naturally, simply closing her eyes did nothing to take the edge off the chill.

It was rare for her to be out in the streets of Akiba like this.

Even if she was at a new post (or rather, being left to her own devices), Raynesia was the second daughter of the House of Cowen, the leading family of Eastal, the League of Free Cities, and a successor to one of the two remaining dukedoms in Yamato. Due to security issues, she didn’t go out much. Even if she did go out, it was usually only to perform inspections from a carriage, and she almost never walked around town in her everyday clothes this way.

If Marielle from the Crescent Moon League hadn’t suddenly stopped by and said, “Let’s go get brunch somewhere else today!” she probably wouldn’t have gone out at all.

Generally, Elissa or the guards would have put a stop to this sort of sudden outing, but this was Akiba. If a few skilled Adventurers were protecting her, she’d be safer than if she’d stayed shut up in Water Maple Manor. On top of that, although she didn’t know what her motives had been, Elissa had made the preparations for the outing so quickly that she hadn’t been able to talk her way out of it.

“You’re all fluffy, aren’tcha!”

“I suppose you should wear a hat, too.”

As a result, Raynesia was walking toward Akiba’s main avenue, flanked by Marielle and Riezé.

For today’s outing, she was wearing a hip-length coat trimmed with fluffy fur.

To begin with, Raynesia wasn’t very familiar with the contents of her own wardrobe.

Because daughters of the nobility had their ladies-in-waiting select their clothes for them and changed several times a day, this wasn’t unusual, but on top of that, Raynesia wasn’t much interested in fashion, so hers was an extreme case.

After all, she was lazy. Changing clothes didn’t bring her much joy in the first place. If they’d left her to herself, she was confident that she could have spent a whole year in a linen dress.

Of course, Raynesia had received more than enough aristocratic training. Everything had its own time, place, occasion, and etiquette, and she knew quite well what sort of clothing she needed to wear.

It was a pain, but Raynesia was aware that her long silver hair was unusual. Clothing that suited that hair was also unusual, and unfortunately, pajamas weren’t on the list.

As a result, Raynesia didn’t know what sort of clothes her wardrobe held, or how many of them there were. She only thought, vaguely, that there were all kinds of things in there.

“There just isn’t much low-level cold endurance equipment, is there?”

The group was walking along in a close huddle, with Raynesia in the middle. The girl who’d spoken to her from behind was named Mikakage.

She was a sociable, cheerful girl, another of the people who attended the tea parties.

“No,” Raynesia answered, briefly.

She’d answered obediently because Mikakage was one of the people she felt indebted to. It wasn’t because she was an Adventurer. The woman was a Chef. Since she brought over all sorts of snacks at every opportunity, going against her was out of the question.

Raynesia didn’t really know the details, but apparently there were two types of Chefs among the Adventurers.

These were Chefs who had high skill values but were personally quite bad at cooking, and true Chefs whose cooking techniques matched their skill values…or so she was told. Skill values expressed the individual’s cooking prowess, and so Raynesia didn’t really understand why people talked about “letting treasures go to waste” or, on the other hand, “being well-matched.”

However, even if she didn’t understand that aspect of Adventurer culture, she knew that Mikakage was known as a “real” cook, and in fact, the snacks she brought were delicious.

These were cakes and candies so delicate she had no idea how they’d been made: truly jewel-like sweets. On the other hand, while they were brought over far less frequently than the sweets, Raynesia liked her pork miso soup and rice with mushrooms as well.

According to Mikakage, sweets were art, but other dishes were entertainment. Raynesia could only wonder about that. She thought they were delicious, with mellow flavors.

Mikakage took the muffler that Raynesia had wound around herself and hung an odd accessory from it. The little spirit that always followed Mikakage around stretched up on tiptoe, insistently trying to see. It was a little stuffed animal, a puppy, and really cute: It was roly-poly, and it looked sleepy.

“The percentage isn’t much, but what do you think? Is that a little warmer?”

“Yes. It is warm.”

The People of the Earth probably couldn’t make tiny stuffed animals this elaborate. The best they could do would be wood carving. That meant this was the first time Raynesia had worn a stuffed animal as an accessory. She thought it made her outfit much more like the Adventurers’ than wearing jewels or ribbons would have.

“Excellent.”

Mikakage nodded. Marielle, who’d peeked in from behind her, said, “Isn’t that nice!” and gave a dazzling smile.

This Marielle woman was another of the people who often came to Water Maple Manor.

She always brought all sorts of clothes to change into, so she’d thought she must be in charge of clothing and accessories for some guild somewhere, but when she listened closely, it turned out that she was one of the Round Table Council eleven. The leader of one of Akiba’s eleven governing clans.

At first, Raynesia had been very tense, but before long, she’d gotten used to her.

On hearing that she belonged to one of the town’s governing clans, she’d begun conversations as if she were talking to a member of the peerage, but every time, she found herself turned into a dress-up doll and regaled with town gossip, and it became a bit of a performance.

Marielle was thoroughly cheerful, loved parties, and was always smiling.

She’d been the first one to call Raynesia “Sia.” Raynesia had been called “Reisi” by her family, but she’d never been called “Sia” before. At first, it had bewildered her, but she’d soon grown used to that, too.

Her tea parties with the Adventurer women were already part of Raynesia’s daily routine.

And while Raynesia might be “the winter rose of Eastal,” Sia was just an inexperienced People of the Earth girl who’d been posted to the Adventurers’ town. She was a noble, of course, and a fledgling diplomat, and sometimes she played at being a merchant. But whatever she was, she wasn’t “the winter rose of Eastal.”

Raynesia realized that the girl with honey-colored hair who was walking ahead of her, matching her pace to Raynesia’s unsteady steps, had turned back. She was a girl called Riezé, and she managed the knights in D.D.D., another of the eleven guilds. She supervised Krusty, Raynesia’s archenemy. Her rank within the guild was probably high as well.

Riezé frequently attended Raynesia’s tea parties, too, and Raynesia thought she was a very clearheaded young lady. Her demeanor was the most aristocratic of all the attendees. However, even so, she was far more enlightened than the hidebound members of Eastal’s high society.

Riezé was even the one who’d taught her that word enlightened.

It meant, “Wearing clothes that don’t constrict your stomach, and being able to eat custard dorayaki,” which were little custard-and-mini pancake sandwiches.

It was a very, very good word.

From Raynesia’s perspective, all the Adventurers seemed like unprecedented beings.

This was probably true for all People of the Earth, not just for Raynesia. Even Elissa sometimes sighed, let her shoulders droop, and lamented, “Come to think of it, they are Adventurers, aren’t they…”

Adventurers were far too different from their people, and Raynesia and Elissa didn’t understand them.

Raynesia met many of People of the Earth these days, and almost every day, they asked her:

“What are the Adventurers?”

“How should we handle them?”

Since she’d been posted to the town of Akiba and was serving as an intermediary with the Adventurers, Raynesia met with People of the Earth nearly every day, and then mediated trade with the Adventurers, looked for Adventurers who would take on job requests, and often gave them advice. Personally, she didn’t think she was managing to do the job properly at all, but even so, since there was no one else, she had to do it.

Even though she was asked about the Adventurers, Raynesia didn’t know the answers either. In fact, there might be many things Raynesia knew less about than any other given Person of the Earth. And what’s more, because she was in closer contact with the Adventurers than anyone else, as the days went by, the number of things she didn’t understand kept growing.

However, she’d managed to understand a few things.

Adventurers were Adventurers.

Raynesia thought that the most fundamental mistake the People of the Earth lords had made at the lord’s council in the Ancient Court of Eternal Ice was attempting to treat the Adventurers like nobles.

The Adventurers weren’t nobles; of course trying to treat them according to the rules of the aristocracy wouldn’t work well. In the same way, Adventurers weren’t lords’ subjects or knights, either. They weren’t even People of the Earth. For that reason, it was a mistake to treat them according to People of the Earth rules, or to try to adapt them to fit their convenience.

Raynesia thought that had been why the conference had failed.

Adventurers were only Adventurers. They shouldn’t be classified as anything else.

However, come to think of it, Raynesia’s surroundings were bursting with people who could be labeled. Counts were counts, barons were barons, knights were knights, chamberlains were chamberlains, citizens were the residents of a city, and villagers lived in villages. Hunters hunted and woodcutters cut down trees.

People had roles, and they lived within those limits. That was only natural. Before Raynesia was Reisi, she was the granddaughter of a duke, and the winter rose princess. She’d never had a single doubt about that. Even now, she didn’t hate the idea, and she thought it was only natural.

However, she’d realized that it wasn’t possible to use those rules to understand the Adventurers. All she knew was that, even if she didn’t know the correct answer, she mustn’t try to fit them into a framework or look at them in terms of their class or role.

It would certainly have been easier if she could have gotten along with the Adventurers by putting them in broad categories, such as “members of the Crescent Moon League clan” or “guild members with cooking skills.” Like the knights in the Knights of Maihama, or the ladies-in-waiting that came to the castle to serve, or the critical young male aristocrats.

However, Marielle and Riezé and Mikakage were all too remarkable for that, and she couldn’t do it.

Every single Adventurer was like a special jewel, polished carefully by the gods. Each was unlike any other, and they sparkled and shone.

“Hmm? What’s up?”

Marielle turned back and looked at her closely, seemingly worried.

Raynesia smiled and replied, “I’m fine.” Seeing this, Mikakage asked, “Are you hungry already?” and the whole group laughed. Do I really look that hungry? Raynesia worried. The Adventurers always had little sweets in their pockets or bags, and they were constantly trying to feed them to her.

Once they were on the wide avenue, Raynesia and the others turned north.

“This way?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

Marielle and Riezé, who’d spoken to each other, were dressed comparatively lightly.

Unlike the People of the Earth, the Adventurers preferred activewear. Apparently this was true even now, in midwinter. Marielle was wearing a short skirt that exposed her tight-clad legs. She thought she really had to be cold, but the person in question didn’t seem bothered by it.

Riezé was wearing a coat and muffler, but underneath, she wore the same sort of white blouse and tight skirt she always did. Raynesia and Elissa, who was just behind her, were far more bundled up.

It was sheer coincidence that Raynesia spotted Akatsuki just then.

Because Marielle had asked Mikakage, “Is Milky Margaret over that way?” and Mikakage had trotted ahead to show the way, the two who’d been paying attention to Raynesia had moved away from her. As she gave a small, relieved sigh, she happened to look up and see Akatsuki, leaving a building through a door that seemed to lead underground.

Akatsuki was biting her lip.

The slight figure walking on the other side of the road looked like a lost child.

Suddenly, all sorts of feelings flooded Raynesia. It was the sort of mood that came from a night spent gazing up at the ceiling of a dark room for hours on end.

Raynesia tried to say something, but before it became words, it stopped, as though something had gone wrong in her throat.

She didn’t really know what it was she would try to say.

Raynesia felt like a vine that had collected rainwater in its leaves and was slowly bending. The expression Akatsuki had worn was the sort of expression that drained the strength from you and made your heart feel heavy. It was an expression she’d never seen before.

She looks like a child, somehow, she thought, out of nowhere.

Raynesia had thought of that black-haired girl as a dagger made of obsidian.

As beautiful as a jewel, with a strength she couldn’t comprehend.

Using the head even she didn’t think worked very well, Raynesia considered her next move, then gave up. Either way, Akatsuki was gone, vanished into the crowd. She hadn’t noticed Raynesia and the others. She’d just passed right by.

The thought gave Raynesia a slight, if painful, feeling of trouble in her chest.

…But this wasn’t particularly unusual.

All sorts of feelings were constantly drifting through Raynesia. Most of them weren’t guests she could welcome, but she’d known since she was small that if she curled up under a warm comforter and closed her eyes, they would melt into the darkness. She was rather confident in her ability to curl up under a comforter.

Raynesia shook her head, trying to switch gears.

This was the town of Akiba, and she was a fledgling negotiator. She had more than enough motivation and necessity to switch gears.

“Heeey, Sia! Whatcha doin’? This way!”

At the call, Raynesia broke into a delicate run on unsteady feet.

6

“Princess. Priiiincess.”

Elissa called her mistress’s name.

She’d called to her because things had seemed awfully quiet. Raynesia was on the sofa, looking down.

She seemed to be at a loss. Her spun-silver hair spilled over her small, rounded shoulders, flowing down like a waterfall. The beautiful girl wore a disconsolate aura that would have made even a stern-faced corporal whom orcs feared want to speak kindly to her and comfort her: You mustn’t get so discouraged. I’ll help you.

Madame Henrietta would probably have said she looked “like a puppy in the rain.”

In any case, she seemed fragile, lonely, and filled with melancholy.

She was the very image of the sort of frailty that made you want to run to her and hug her.

However, Elissa knew very well:

This was her “I’m tired and I don’t want to do anything else” pose.

“Prin-cess.”

“Elissa?”

Raynesia raised her chin, her gaze upturned.

Framed by cheeks as smooth as a boiled egg, her damp eyes shimmered.

Make no mistake: Her eyes weren’t damp because she’d been thinking sad thoughts, or because she was moved, but because she’d been biting back a yawn.

“Yes, yes. You’re tired, correct? I’ll prepare your bedroom shortly, so wait just a little longer, please. Would you like tea? Or perhaps something sweet?” Elissa asked.

Raynesia had a better appetite than her appearance suggested, and it had been quite some time since she’d eaten brunch with the group of Adventurers. It wouldn’t be at all strange for her to start feeling hungry soon.

She had no idea whether it was due to her constitution or something else, but no matter what or how much Princess Raynesia ate, she never gained weight. Not only that, but even when she ate meat or cake, her skin stayed as smooth and soft as a baby’s. She couldn’t fathom how rough skin could be a concept for anyone. Elissa was extremely jealous that she could eat without paying attention to her diet.

After the Catastrophe and the reformation in Akiba, an abundance of flavors had been rediscovered in foodstuffs of every variety. Now, half a year later, the reformation had permeated People of the Earth society as well, and everyone, from the aristocrats at the top to the commoners below, was enjoying that new experience.

The revolutionized food had a true depth of flavor, and people often ate too much. At this point, many People of the Earth nobles were afraid of gaining weight, but Raynesia was the exception: She didn’t gain any at all. Elissa had complicated feelings about this. Elissa carefully limited herself to one piece of cake every three days. She was fundamentally different from superhumans like Raynesia.

“No…”

Raynesia shook her head slightly, then turned to the side, resting her cheek against the back of the sofa as though she couldn’t bear it any longer. A young apprentice knight whose heart burned with longing probably would have gotten a nosebleed from that gesture alone.

Not me, though.

Casually approaching Raynesia, Elissa lifted her slipper-clad feet and shifted them onto the sofa, bending her knees. Raynesia didn’t resist; she sat sideways on the sofa, lethargically.

For a “lovely princess of Maihama,” the position was a rather ill-mannered one. If a man had been in the room, it might have given him the wrong impression. Internal aspects aside, Raynesia had learned very well how a noble princess should carry herself, and as a rule, even her family didn’t see her in poses like this one.

Elissa was the only one who was able to see Raynesia like this.

Not that I particularly want to, mind you.

Having confirmed that Raynesia’s feet were up, she took out an indoor broom and swept under the low table and the sofa.

“Princess.”

“Hmm?”

“What did you eat today?”

“Cream stew.”

“My, my… In the style of the Adventurers?”

“They said it was Flame Boar. It was good.”

“Things have been lively lately, haven’t they?”

“They really have.”

As they conversed, Elissa continued briskly cleaning the room.

This was a guest room that was kept immaculate, as a rule. It didn’t take much work. Even if she was cleaning, there was technically no need for her to go to the lengths of lifting her mistress’s feet up onto the sofa. If she’d been dealing with an ordinary noble, no doubt they would have struck off her head. She was able to do these things precisely because she was dealing with the absentminded—or rather, tolerant—Raynesia.

Lately, they were hosting tea parties nearly every day. If she swept up immediately like this, it would make work easier for the person in charge of early mornings. Tomorrow, the Adventurer women would probably come to call again. In particular, the small black-haired girl—Akatsuki—had come every day for the past ten days or so.

“You look very tired today.”

“Yes.”

Raynesia wasn’t saying much.

She really must be tired. Elissa couldn’t blame her. Madame Henrietta and Madame Marielle had done just as they pleased with her. After returning from brunch, Raynesia had been subjected to yet another dress-up tournament. Remembering her mistress’s voice—which had pleaded for mercy in a truly pitiful way—Elissa chuckled a little, deep in her throat.

It was Elissa’s job to dress her mistress in such a way that she could present her anywhere without embarrassment.

Yes, meticulously managing Raynesia’s clothes was her duty as well.

After all, due to her mistress’s appearance, people noticed her. Thinking of outfits day after day was a monumental task.

For example, if she had a conference with a merchant, and she wore the same dress to the conference after that, she’d probably be held in contempt for “always wearing the same dress, even though she was the daughter of a dukedom.” As a result, Elissa and one other of the ladies-in-waiting’s jobs was to keep types of dresses on hand every day whenever she changed clothes, morning, noon and night, and to keep a careful record of the accessories she wore each time.

If they were dealing with People of the Earth nobles and merchants, that sort of conventional treatment was enough. It was a troublesome duty, and it required puzzle-like planning abilities, but if she thought about it as being a time-honored job, it was nothing.

When dealing with the Adventurers, though, she had trouble. After all, there was simply no precedent. If it was an audience or some other formal occasion, it was possible to design outfits according to the topic of the audience or the requirements of etiquette. However, these recent tea parties were considered purely private affairs. An overdone outfit risked incurring the Adventurers’ displeasure. Still, even if it was all right to wear casual clothes, she didn’t know what sorts of clothes were considered “casual” according to Adventurer common sense.

After all, Adventurers wore all sorts of clothes. Most Adventurers seemed to distinguish between clothes worn for battle and ordinary clothes for around town, but for some, the line between the two was blurry, and it wasn’t unusual to see individuals who spent most of their time in plate armor.

There was another problem as well. In an attempt to learn the Adventurers’ preferences and customs, she’d examined dresses and outfits which it would have been hard to call dresses in Akiba beforehand, and the prices had been all over the map. Though imperfect, the House of Cowen was a great noble family. That meant that, although the Adventurers’ equipment was expensive, it wasn’t as if they couldn’t purchase casual clothes. However, even if that was so, the pricing was far too incomprehensible. It was common for a silk shirt to have a price fifty times higher than the practically identical shirt hanging next to it.

The shopkeeper had explained that the materials were different.

The longer she listened, the more astounded she was, but Adventurer shops sold boots made of tanned Gorgon hide and bustiers made with Falnat down, as if that were only natural. Clothes made by subjugating and using such high-level mystical beasts were so expensive that even the dukedom, which had one of the People of the Earth’s greatest fortunes, couldn’t afford to buy them up one after another.

Truth be told, the dress-up tournaments that were held day after day were, in part, the result of Elissa having asked Marielle for advice. “Just relax and leave everythin’ to me,” Marielle had declared merrily, and thanks to the clothes she brought in, Raynesia’s Adventurer-compatible wardrobe was gradually being filled out.

For the sake of that project, Elissa felt no hesitation about offering up her mistress for a dress-up doll party. In any case, if she didn’t do something like this, Raynesia wouldn’t budge an inch. Elissa thought it was good medicine for her.

She loved and respected Raynesia nonetheless, of course.

When she’d spoken sharply during that conference, Elissa had felt like applauding: Even if it was her own mistress, that had been splendid. However, Raynesia was a fundamentally indolent, cowardly, thoughtless, feather-pillow girl (meaning her head was stuffed with down).

Elissa respected and loved her, but if asked whether she could constantly serve her with respect, she’d have to say it was doubtful.

Well, this is for Raynesia’s sake, after all.

As she folded up a lap robe, Elissa pondered.

It wasn’t just the clothes.

Having friends of the same gender who were her own age, or marginally older or younger, was a rare experience.

It was one thing for Elissa, who was the daughter of a low-ranking noble, but for Raynesia, who’d been born the granddaughter of the Cowen dukedom, they might be even harder to find than a good husband.

Elissa remembered the perfect smile her mistress had worn in the palace at Maihama, and at the Ancient Court of Eternal Ice. Aristocratic society was strict. A single bad rumor could be fatal, particularly for young women.

In order to survive surrounded by the watchful eyes of the gossipy sparrows at court, Raynesia had acquired elegant manners. The mask she’d chosen to protect the honor of her grandfather and her family was so perfect that it had won her legendary renown and the name “Eastal’s winter rose.”

However, for that very reason, Raynesia had never had a real friend. Her relationship with Elissa might be relatively close, but even so, a lady-in-waiting was a lady-in-waiting.

“Still, although it may not be my place to say it, you looked as if you were quite enjoying yourself.”

“Pardon…?”

“I think it’s good that you’ve made friends.”

This was really true.

Elissa thought that, over the past two weeks, Raynesia’s expressions had grown quite varied.

“They aren’t friends.”

—However, the words that came back weren’t what she’d expected.

“Hmm? Then what are they, pray tell? When you spoke with them… Well, sometimes you seemed to be at your wits’ end, but you looked as though you were having fun.”

“They’re Adventurers.”

Raynesia answered Elissa’s question without any particular enthusiasm.

“I wasn’t having fun while we talked. The Adventurers are different from us. They’re much too different. The etiquette I’ve learned doesn’t work. Unless I put my feelings into words and communicate them properly, they won’t understand, and if they don’t, we can’t talk to each other.”

That was probably correct.

The Adventurers weren’t particular about social standing. When they held tea parties, they even invited Elissa. Similarly, since being posted to Akiba, Elissa had acquired a few acquaintances: Madame Henrietta, who worked in a way with which she could sympathize; Riezé, who bore a very slight resemblance to her little sister back in her hometown; and Serara, who was so domestic she would have loved to have her as a fellow lady-in-waiting.

Of course, as Raynesia said, Adventurers and People of the Earth were very different. Sometimes their views conflicted, and sometimes they couldn’t tell what the other was saying. However, it wasn’t so bad they couldn’t join hands.

Elissa thought Raynesia had taught her more about that than anyone else.

For that reason, at the same time, she asked a question, as though urged on by her doubts:

“But you were so…”

“If I had even a little fun, I have to tell them I had fun. If I’m sad, I need to say I’m sad, and if I’m happy, I have to express my gratitude. If I don’t, they won’t understand, so I do it. You know, too, don’t you, Elissa? I’m really more idle and cowardly and…irresponsible. To be honest, I couldn’t care less about fashionable society and the nobility. If I could take naps every day, that’d be enough for me. In any case, I don’t really understand that sort of thing.”

Raynesia’s murmur sounded somehow bored.

“It’s a job.”

“—Is it, then.”

“…”

Raynesia looked away, leaning limply against the back of the sofa. Spelled out in words, it looked as if she’d grown tired of it, or had given up or, at the very least, as though her attitude was irresponsible. However, beautiful girls had it good from start to finish, and even that careless pose was as pretty as a picture, which made it impossible to deal with.

Elissa was the only person Raynesia showed this sort of pose to.

In the presence of People of the Earth nobles, she acted like the perfect lady, and naturally she did so with princesses her own age as well. Even with the Adventurer women, although she was genuine, she was meek as a lamb. It might have been Raynesia’s armor, designed to keep her innermost heart hidden.

—I suppose there was that individual as well…

Elissa remembered the big sandy-haired man. True, Raynesia did seem to have opened her heart to that young man. However, the elements of not being able to lie or deceive him figured largely into that Raynesia hadn’t had the freedom to choose in the first place.

Hadn’t she ever wanted that?

If I had even a little fun, I have to tell them I had fun.

That was what she’d said.

Still, didn’t the fact that she was thinking that way mean she was confessing that she had enjoyed herself?

Even if she was tired enough to nap on the sofa before dinner, Elissa thought that if she looked forward to each day enough to wake up the next morning without any help from her maids and be thinking about what to wear, then surely they were friends, and it wasn’t simply a job.

Hadn’t Raynesia been enjoying life a lot more since coming to this town full of Adventurers?

However, her princess turned her gaze to the window, which had already begun deepening to indigo, and she didn’t seem to have realized this simple fact of friendship. Either that, or she was avoiding the word friends. Elissa didn’t know whether she’d given up on those somewhere along the way, or whether she’d never hoped for them in the first place.

Elissa felt something like mild pity.

This girl, Raynesia, who’d been blessed with beauty and acclaim and wealth and even status, sometimes seemed to have abandoned something once and for all. It would be sad if the heroic courage she’d shown at the lords’ council had been born from resignation like that.

As the princess gazed out the window, naturally her expression was beautiful and fragile, but it also held a trace of boredom. At the sight, Elissa heaved a sigh.

She wanted to help her mistress, but she knew that lukewarm advice wouldn’t reach her.

Raynesia’s excellent lady-in-waiting was well aware that Raynesia was just as stubborn and unreasonable as she was lazy.