Chapter Two: Go West, Amutech

All of us except Brooke’s family were gathered in the living room. We’d decided to leave out the lizardmen because we had a feeling that this discussion wasn’t going to be something kids should hear. Man’ya and the others might be too young to even understand adult conversations yet, but lizardmen grew fast, and I didn’t want to take any chances.

So Hikaru-san, Minori-san, and I were all present, along with Myusel, Elvia, Amatena, and Clara. Normally Myusel would be helping to host, but since this had to do with Falmelle-san, she was sitting beside me instead.

I looked at Amatena, then Clara, and finally said, “So what is this all about?” Both of them appeared just a little more tired than the last time I had seen them. It wasn’t like their cheeks were sallow or something, but there wasn’t as much strength in their eyes, and their movements seemed slower, fatigued. Of course, on one level, it made sense: apparently they’d traveled at a forced march for three days and nights to get here.

They had arrived at the mansion early this morning, before the sun was even up. They had been able to ride a puppet drake (a new kind of weapon developed by Bahairam that involved using a magical spike to control a dragon) until just past the mountains that formed the border between our nations, but the second half of the journey had been on foot. It might be possible to hide a puppet drake during the night, but they would be spotted in a second during the day. And then the jig would be up. The Eldant authorities were well aware of this new technology, and if it was seen anywhere around, it could all too easily spark a border war.

Wisely not wanting to make things with the Eldant Empire any worse, Amatena and Clara had crossed the border before sunup, then landed the drake just on the other side of the mountains, after which they had had to walk—or rather, run, all the way to the mansion. A solid day at top speed.

I felt tired just hearing about it. A full marathon was 42.195 kilometers, and the world record for running that distance was something in the neighborhood of two hours. Celebrity participants could take four or five hours to finish one. Even purely in terms of time, running an entire day would be several times that number of hours. And without any guarantee of food or water along the way, the toll on your body could be tremendous.

It would have killed a normal human, I was sure. If they could even actually run for that long, which most couldn’t. Amatena and Clara might have been beast people, with all the superb physical abilities that entailed, but before they were even soldiers they were women, and anyway, running literally all night long sounded like insanity to me no matter who you were. Naturally, they were exhausted by the time they got here.

And then they were noticed by the security devices the JSDF had set up around the house. Minori-san had rushed outside the moment she received the notification that intruders had been detected, only to find Amatena and Clara unconscious on the grounds of the mansion. Perhaps they had finally begun to relax when they realized they had reached their destination.

Hearing what they had been through, Minori-san’s first move was to give them somewhere to recuperate. She woke Elvia to help her, and the two of them had brought Amatena and Clara inside. They’d put them in a single room together, but the two of them had recovered quicker than expected—and when Elvia took her eyes off them for an instant, Clara darted out of the room and into my bed. (I swear this is all true. At least, I think.) Thanks to their time hiding out here, the two of them knew the layout of the mansion. Including the location of my room.

But still... “So you ran all night and collapsed in our front yard. I got that part. But I still don’t know why. What’s going on that you had to come here so urgently?”

Amatena and Clara looked at each other. They appeared to be hesitating, but it seemed a little late for that. What could they be thinking about?

“This matter concerns military secrets of the Kingdom of Bahairam,” Amatena said with a small sigh. “If at all possible, I’d like to refrain from speaking about them to anyone except you, Shinichi.”

“Sounds like I’d better show myself out,” Hikaru-san said with a shrug. Minori-san stood up, too. But Amatena looked at them and said, “No. It’s all right.” Maybe she was grateful for Minori-san’s help, or maybe her experience hiding out here had convinced her that anyone in this mansion deserved a certain measure of trust. Whatever the case, she looked back at me. “In the Third Capital of our kingdom, there’s a facility called the Dragon’s Den.”

“The Third Capital? What’s that? Do you have several capital cities?”

After all, wouldn’t a Third Capital imply the existence of a First and a Second? Although if you defined the capital of a kingdom as where the king resided, it seemed kind of counterintuitive to have several of them, like an animal with more than one head.

“The capital of our kingdom is relocated from time to time,” Amatena explained. “We were once a nomadic people, with scant connection to residence in any one area. Now, nomads account for less than half of our population, but the custom of periodically moving the capital to a new location remains.”

“Sounds like a lot of work,” I said. “Or maybe not? I mean, if that’s the custom, do you go out of your way to have easy-to-move capital cities?”

When I thought about it, I remembered seeing the King of Bahairam come all the way out to a regional town to bless a local mass wedding. If the people of Bahairam used to be nomads, maybe such a light-footed king was just what you would expect.

The Dragon’s Den, by the way, was one of the most closely guarded military secrets in Bahairam, and had apparently been where it was long before the Third Capital got there. It was almost as if the city that had grown up around the Den to service and defend it had been recognized as the Third Capital for its importance. In short, the Third Capital was not a location with particular significance for the Bahairamanian royal family. Rather, it seemed the rulers made their capitals in places of military, political, or economic importance, moving from one to the next in turn. Honestly, it struck me as kind of a strange system.

“Hold on a second,” Minori-san said, frowning. “The country’s biggest military secret? And it’s called the Dragon’s Den? Is that dragon as in ‘drake’? Like, puppet drake?”

“It is. I should have known you would figure it out,” Amatena said, crossing her arms. She seemed impressed by Minori-san’s quick wit, but I wasn’t sure what it was she had figured out. If the Dragon’s Den was where the dragons were, and the dragons were actually puppet drakes... did that mean the Den was a puppet drake factory?

“How’s that work?” I asked. “I thought the factory for the puppet drakes was near the border, where I was held last time. Was that the Third Capital?”

“No, that was somewhere else,” Amatena started, but then she slapped her hand over her mouth. I guess she was still trying to decide exactly how much secret military information to divulge in front of all these people.

Minori-san spoke up instead. “Didn’t you think it was strange, Shinichi-kun?” She was smiling slightly.

“What? Think what was strange?”

“Puppet drakes are dragons with magical control spikes buried in them, right?”

“Buried? More like pounded into them, but sure...”

Those dragons had massive spikes (like, “Hello! I’m definitely stabbing this thing in the brain!” massive) in their foreheads, so that if you only saw their heads, they might look less like dragons and more like unicorns. The spikes involved complicated, delicate magical spells that allowed the dragons to be controlled by an outside operator, but I questioned the way they pretty much screamed weak point. Of course, this world didn’t really have any weapons that were precise enough to target that “horn” as the dragon flew through the sky.

Anyway...

“How do you think those dragons got there?”

“Oh...”

Now that she mentioned it, it was obvious. The Holy Eldant Empire was well aware of how dangerous dragons were. They were quasi-sprites, creatures that fed on magical energy, so powerful spells had minimal effect on them. That was on top of their immense natural strength and huge size. Plus they could fly.

So magical firepower didn’t work on them, they were too big to fight with swords or spears, and they could just fly over any traps you set. Tough nut to crack, dragons. Having one go on a rampage would be a serious problem, to put it mildly; it would require several squadrons of knights and huge casualties as you tried to wear the creature down. All excellent reasons to avoid these monsters—and the very same reasons why Bahairam had developed the puppet drake as their newest weapon.

But think about it: to get puppet drakes, first you needed dragons... and how had Bahairam gotten its hands on those? They’d be useless dead, but capturing one alive had to be even more difficult than just killing it. The dragon I’d seen looked like it had been sedated with some kind of drug, but then, if it were that easy, Eldant wouldn’t have struggled with these monsters the way they did. All of which meant...

“No way... The Dragon’s Den...” It slowly dawned on me: the name meant exactly what it said.

“That’s correct. We obtain newborn dragon pups from the Den and spike them to create our puppet drakes.”

“Newborn? You mean, like, newly hatched?”

Come to think of it, on earth we sometimes spoke of “captive born” animals. Many wild animals are difficult to breed because they don’t flourish in captivity. So sometimes, you can find an egg that has already been laid, or has just hatched, and bring up that specimen under supervision, making sure any and all the infants survive.

Survival rates into adulthood are pretty poor for a lot of animals. Depending on species, as many as 90% of animals who are born can succumb to illness, starvation, or predators. So protecting and raising a clutch of newborns can get you a lot more animals than you would ever find in the wild.

“But I’m sure I saw full-grown dragons,” I said. The puppet drake I saw under production—or was that preparation?—had looked plenty big to me. Or had it still been a child? “If those were the kids, how big are the eggs?” I didn’t even want to think about how dragons might manage to lay eggs that big. To accommodate a dragon almost your own size inside the body would mean a massive increase in body size. I didn’t think dragons’ scales looked that flexible—but then again, snakes could swallow whole animals that were larger than themselves.

While I was contemplating all this, Amatena said, “No. Dragons aren’t born from eggs.”

“Huh? They aren’t?” I blinked. That caught me by surprise. Lizardmen came from eggs, and they were reptile(-ish) creatures just like dragons, weren’t they? I had just assumed... “So then... Don’t tell me dragon parents go through live births?”

“Wrong again.” Amatena shook her head. “Dragons are born by the Dragon’s Den.”

I looked at her quizzically. I was lost again.

The Den itself gave birth to them? For a second, I thought maybe my interpreter ring was malfunctioning. From how Amatena had been talking right up till now, I had assumed the Dragon’s Den was the name of a Bahairamanian military facility, or maybe a geographical location. Was I wrong? Or was there maybe a momma dragon that had been given the same name as the place she lived?

“Hang on...” I said. Could it be that dragons, like ants and bees, had a queen who lived in a nest, giving birth to babies? I suddenly imagined a scene as if out of a certain movie, of a dragon queen pumping out one egg after another. So did that mean—you know? That in the end, there would be a knock-down, drag-out fight with a yellow, bipedal load lifter on a spaceship somewhere? Or would there be a revivified turtle monster who struck the final blow and then exploded?

“To be completely honest, I don’t know the details myself. This is as classified as secrets get. A special military unit called the Undertakers oversees the Dragon’s Den. They belong to an entirely different command structure from the likes of me and Clara,” Amatena said. “What matters is, we get newborn dragons from the Den and turn them into puppet drakes. But even newborn dragons are roughly the size you saw. They don’t get much smaller or larger.”

“Really?”

“Because they’re part sprite. They differ substantially from ordinary living beings.”

“Ah...” Now that I thought about it, it made sense: my understanding was that the sprites of this world were conglomerations of dense magical energy that took on the appearance of living things, but they weren’t biological creatures in the way any of us were. It only made sense if their growth didn’t follow the patterns I expected.

“All right, whatever we do or don’t know about puppet drakes,” Hikaru-san said, trying to move the conversation along, “what does this secret military base have to do what you want from Shinichi-san?”

“Y-Yes, and—!” Myusel leaned forward as if she could hardly hold herself back. “My mother... How is she connected to all this?”

“Yes, my apologies for getting off subject,” Amatena said with a look at the rest of us. “To return to the point. Falmelle Faugron was, from what I can tell, making some sort of delivery to the Undertakers at the Dragon’s Den. I doubt it was anything secret in and of itself—more likely daily necessities and consumables. There are many merchants who see nation as no hindrance to business, and it would appear Falmelle Faugron—or perhaps I should say Faugron & Associates—is one of them. As this was their first transaction with the Undertakers, Falmelle Faugron herself accompanied the delivery to see everything went smoothly.”

“I see...”

Falmelle-san looked exactly like Myusel, but their personalities were almost exact opposites. Falmelle-san was a strong woman, a real go-getter, you might say. I could definitely picture her doing business with Bahairam, and also going along to see the place for herself.

“Now...” Amatena said, and heaved a sigh. That was unusual for her. Despite her resemblance to Elvia, she very rarely let her emotions show. She was the classic soldier, an “iron woman” who barely made a peep no matter how difficult things got. “There was an incident at the Third Capital. Or I suppose I should call it a disaster.”

“Incident? Disaster?” Minori-san asked, frowning. “It’s a military base, right?”

“Yes. But this doesn’t appear to have been an attack by Eldant or any other enemy nation. It seems to have come from within—indeed, from inside the Dragon’s Den. I’m not going to pretend to understand it. The scene was chaos.”

According to what Amatena told us next, it had started with an earthquake, after which the entire Third Capital, beginning with the Dragon’s Den at its center, erupted with pillars of flame, in dozens—no, hundreds—maybe even thousands?—of places, all at the same time. Fire damage to the capital was obviously extensive, buildings were burned down, and several areas of the city were cut off from each other.

“Earthquakes? Fire?” I asked. “Is it possible the Third Capital was in a volcanic area?”

Amatena shook her head. “There are no volcanoes near it. There had been reports of earthquakes just prior to this, but that area hasn’t customarily been the site of much seismic activity.”

Minori-san, Hikaru-san, and I all looked at each other. Earthquakes were old hat for us, coming from Japan; they happened much more frequently there than in most places in the West. Certain parts of Japan were known as “the land of fire,” and I had to think this wasn’t unrelated to the number of volcanoes in the country. Although they had a nice side benefit in giving us lots of hot springs.

Anyway, if there had been a volcano near the Third Capital, that might have been one possibility. I didn’t get the impression that seismology or volcanology were big things in this world, and to people who didn’t know any better, I had figured a volcanic eruption could just look like fire shooting out of the ground. But according to Amatena, there was nothing of the sort in the vicinity.

“So these pillars of flame began sprouting up around the city...”

“Hm?” I said with a frown. There was something about the way she said that, something about the expression that nagged me. “Pillars of flame? You mean there was no lava, or drifting embers or whatever?”

“Lah-vah?” Amatena asked, glancing at Clara.

Huh? She didn’t know what lava was? But that would mean...

“It’s like a superhot river. Melted rock turns red and flows along.”

“No, that’s not what happened. There were massive fires all throughout town, but nothing like what you’re describing.”

I didn’t react immediately. What was this? It certainly didn’t sound like any eruption I’d ever heard of.

“When attempts were made to put out the flames, we found the wells had dried up and there was no water. Some people attempted to spread sand on the fires, but they were much too large for that to be effective. And in the middle of all of this, Falmelle Faugron said something to me.” She looked directly at me as she spoke. Yes, her face looked like Elvia’s, but her brusque manner made the stern expression seem more at home. It was a blessing in its own way to be glared at by her—Wait, maybe this wasn’t the time for that. “Shinichi, she said that if I brought you to Bahairam, things would be resolved.”

“Me? Why me?” I was sure no fireman, and disaster policy wasn’t exactly my strong suit, either. What did she want from a former home security guard otaku?

“Shinichi-sama, remember that my mother has the gift of foresight,” Myusel said. That’s right... That’s right. Falmelle-san possessed a very special magic—almost a psychic power, from what I’d heard. The ability to see the future. It certainly gave her a leg up in business. Maybe she had a shrine maiden somewhere back there in her ancestry.

“And this magic, it’s telling her that I can solve this problem? This was a prophecy?”

“It appears so,” Amatena said with a nod. She said that while everyone else in the area had been busy running away, Falmelle-san had issued a prophecy.

“Shinichi.” Amatena got to her feet and bowed deeply to me, bending almost in half. “I’m begging you. Come back with me. I’m abundantly aware that it’s outrageous for me to ask this of someone associated with the Eldant Empire. But Bahairam’s citizens are going to be caught up in this one way or another, and Falmelle Faugron and her staff are trapped at the scene with no way to escape. I’m asking you to help them.”

“Big Sis Ama...” Elvia looked startled; I guess her older sister didn’t beg very often.

Amatena and I had a history—specifically, a history where she kidnapped me and threatened to drive a spike into my head to turn me into a magical puppet—but to be perfectly honest, I didn’t have such a bad impression of Elvia’s older sister. She was even helping with my covert importing of otaku products into Bahairam—my cultural invasion, if you will—and I thought of her more as a friend than an enemy. Not to mention, it was Myusel’s mother she was asking me to help. I could hardly just say I didn’t feel like it.

And yet... Me? Really? Not to brag, but I was just a perfectly ordinary person. Like I’ve said, I didn’t have any psychic powers or special combat abilities, or any experience rescuing people from natural disasters. I mean nothing. Sure, I adored Thunde*birds and had seen every episode of both the old and new series, plus the movies. And I was a fan of Umi**** and the Tomika Her**s shows. But if that was all it took, we could all be top-notch martial artists just by reading some fighting manga.

Seriously, what was I supposed to do?

“Please...” Amatena bowed even deeper, and then Clara, next to her, did the same.

“Shinichi-sama...” Clara even took a step forward and knelt in front of me, clutching my hand. “I’ll do anything if you’ll help us.”

“Wh-What do you mean by... anything?”

“Anything,” she said, more emphatically this time.

“Hey, um, er... You don’t have to do, you know... anything,” I said, my heart starting to pound at the feeling of the warm, delicate fingers—so slim you would never have believed they belonged to a soldier—around mine.

Clara had already been tasked once with trying to cultivate my affections, so was it my fault if when she said “anything” that way, I started to imagine some less than wholesome stuff? Just calm down, my son.

“Are you not satisfied with me?”

“Er, that’s not the point...”

“A-Ahem, Clara-san, this also concerns my mother,” Myusel said, getting up with noticeable haste. “If Shinichi-sama must be begged, then, er, I should—!”

“Stop that, Myusel, you don’t have to get all excited!”

It’s not like I wouldn’t be grateful for some naughty expressions of gratitude—in fact, I was thrilled with the idea—but bringing it up right here in front of everyone, with Minori-san and Hikaru-san watching? Maybe that wasn’t the best plan!

“So what if I beg ya?” Elvia asked, jumping to her feet. Her tail was wagging enthusiastically for some reason. Come to think of it, was it about “that day” for her?

“This has nothing to do with you, Elvia!”

“True... Shinichi is right. If anyone is to beg, it should be me.” Amatena clenched her fists and looked very determined.

“You don’t have to do that, Amatena!” I practically screamed. “Fine, I get it, I’ll go!” I said, feeling oddly as though I’d been manipulated by Clara into the whole thing.

“You don’t look well, sir,” Captain Satou said from beside me, where he was driving the LAV. He was the commander of the JSDF garrison here in this other world. He was also going to be my bodyguard for the duration of my stay. I was given to understand he was an exceptional soldier, as evidenced by the Ranger patch on his uniform, and indeed he’d given me nothing to complain about so far. He had proven something of a reticent man who wasn’t quick to start conversations, which meant I must have looked especially serious. “Is it bad news?” he asked.

“Does it look that grim?” I asked with a wry grin. “I must be losing my touch.”

Captain Satou didn’t say anything, but looked at me with a smile that might have been amused or might have been pained. He clearly understood it was not his job to ferret out all the details of what was going on. That was an appropriate attitude for my bodyguard. Very appropriate. If a soldier like him let personal feelings or curiosity get the better of him, he might find himself unable to do his duty. In that respect, I felt Koganuma-kun, who acted as Shinichi-kun’s bodyguard, was not always careful enough. Indeed, was often quite careless.

“To be honest, I’m rather surprised.” The words came out of my mouth almost before I knew I was saying them.

“Surprised, sir?” Captain Satou asked.

“Maybe I’ve been around Shinichi-kun and Koganuma-kun too long. I find myself fond of them despite it all. Maybe familiarity doesn’t breed contempt after all. I’m not sure that’s a good thing for a civil servant.”

Captain Satou didn’t say anything, affirmative or negative.

As a government official, I had to avoid letting my judgment be influenced by personal feelings, either good or bad. And I couldn’t favor certain people over others. That was one thing Captain Satou and I had in common. But we were both humans, not machines; and in fact, unfeeling machines—machines divorced from and unable to understand human psychology—probably wouldn’t make very good civil servants. The emphasis was on servants: we served the public, and it would do none of us any good to completely ignore the wishes of our clientele.

It was a difficult balance. A true challenge.

“Yes. I have become closer to them than necessary, I’m afraid. Them, and—”

At that moment, I saw something rush past the LAV’s small window. They looked like humans with animal ears and tails, so-called beast people. These were just children, one boy and one girl. Their exceptional physical abilities meant that they could easily keep pace with an automotive vehicle running along an unpaved road at less than thirty kilometers per hour.

“I’m sorry, sir, but may I take a moment?” Captain Satou said suddenly. “I know them.”

“Hmm? It’s all right,” I said, checking my watch, and Captain Satou stopped the LAV and opened the door.

“Satou!” the beast boy and girl exclaimed, rushing toward the vehicle.

The captain greeted them with a smile. “What’s up?”

“Satou, do you have any—you know?”

“Yeah, we want some of that stuff!”

“If you give it to us, we’ll share the next wild rabbit we catch with you!”

“Please?”

The boy and girl were tugging insistently on Captain Satou’s sleeve.

Captain Satou scratched the back of his head, but he smiled. “Huh, guess you’ve got me. They’re not easy to come by, though, all right?” Then he pulled something out of a bag, something shaped like a thin card.

“Hooray!”

“Thanks!”

The boy and girl whooped with glee and then nodded their appreciation before they dashed off again.

“Sorry for the delay, sir,” Captain Satou said, closing the door and starting the vehicle again.

“What’s that you gave them?” I asked. “You know we have to be cautious giving the locals products from Japan...”

Careless distribution of Japanese goods could lead to real trouble, as we’d learned the hard way when Hikaru-kun first came here. And if we just passed out chocolates like the old occupation troops in Japan, without first understanding how they might affect the people here, there was no telling what harm might be done to them. As I said, the children we’d just seen looked largely human, but had animal traits as well. Wasn’t chocolate supposed to be fatal to dogs and cats?

“These, sir,” Captain Satou replied, producing the object from his bag again. To my surprise, they were packages of flavored nori seaweed. “All-natural ingredients. Koganuma reports they don’t seem to cause any problems.”

“Color me surprised.”

“There’s no ocean for quite a ways around here. And rocksalt is a luxury ingredient. These seaweed sheets are a special treat for the kids and help them get sodium,” the captain smiled.

“I see... It would seem interaction with the local populace is coming along quite nicely.”

“That was part of our orders, sir.”

Yes. The soldiers had been strongly encouraged to cultivate ties with the locals. Leaving all of our interactions with the Eldant Empire to Shinichi-kun alone would have been all kinds of dangerous, in my judgment, and my superiors concurred. They were even more convinced after his little “rebellion.” Hence, in addition to requesting reports on everything the JSDF could tell us about, we instructed them to interact with local civilians.

“Sorry, sir. Was the nori going too far?” Captain Satou asked.

“No. We did tell you to. However...”

Suddenly I found myself picturing the other-worlders who lived at Shinichi-kun’s mansion, as well as the adorable empress at Eldant Castle, and all her servants. The fact that, when I pictured them, they were all smiling was evidence that they had a certain affection for me as well.

To be honest, it surprised me. I had always thought myself a somewhat less engaging person than that. But perhaps these feelings were exactly why the idea of seeing Shinichi-kun left me with such a weight on my shoulders. With no concern for my worries, though, the vehicle kept rolling on...

“We’ve arrived, sir,” Captain Satou said, bringing the LAV to a halt. I climbed out of the vehicle and looked up at Amutech’s—but in practice, really Shinichi-kun’s—mansion.

If some of the local people were fond of me, they must have been downright in love with Shinichi-kun, considering he was here all the time, and had been for quite a while. It seemed that the girls in this house—Myusel and Elvia, I seemed to remember their names being—truly respected him, and Her Majesty the Empress was on quite friendly terms with him. Knowing Shinichi-kun’s personality, how could they not come to care about him?

So naturally, I felt most unpleasant as I gazed at the house, and then at Eldant Castle towering beyond.

Just then, though, I was startled by a bird-drawn carriage that clattered up from behind the house. “What?!”

The carriage came at me so quickly I thought it might run me over. I jumped back at the same moment I saw Captain Satou pull a Type-89 machine gun out of the LAV and take aim.

But I said, “Shinichi-kun?!” To my shock, sitting on the driver’s bench of the carriage were Myusel Fourant and Shinichi-kun himself. It was the half-elf girl holding the reins—come to think of it, I recalled she had spent a stint in the military long ago. Perhaps, just as members of the Ground Self-Defense Force frequently needed driver’s licenses, she had had to learn how to maneuver one of these carriages.

“What is the meaning of this, Shinichi-kun?!” I demanded.

“Matoba-san, is that you? Perfect!” Shinichi-kun called back from the carriage, which had ground to a halt just beyond me. “Sorry for the trouble, but I need you to tell Petralka I’ll be away for a while!”

“What? Be away? Where exactly are you going? Anyway, I want to—”

“And tell the school to just have the kids study on their own!” Before he was done talking, the carriage was already on its way again. I chased after it for a few steps, shouting, “Hold it right there! What in the world do you think you’re—”

“We’ve got a rescue mission! Myusel’s mother!”

“What?!” I stopped in my tracks, completely flabbergasted. Now the carriage was going too fast for anyone to catch it on foot. It was already growing smaller in the distance. I could shout, but there was no way he would hear me.

“Should we go after him, sir?” Captain Satou asked, coming up beside me.

I shook my head. “No. I can’t say I understand what’s going on, but I have the distinct impression it would be useless to try to stop him.” Whatever else he might be, Kanou Shinichi could be very stubborn; once he got an idea into his head, there was scant dissuading him. If experience was anything to go by, I could guess that trying to stop him by force now would only make things harder. As for me, I wasn’t unhappy to have this particular conversation put off for a while.

“I suppose Koganuma-kun went with him?”

“You can bet on it,” Captain Satou said, fiddling with some sort of machine. A communicator of some kind, I assumed. They were still close enough that we might be able to ascertain her location. Without satellites or any kind of relay stations, though, long-distance communication was impossible in this world.

“I suppose I ought to go pay my respects to Her Majesty. He did ask me to deliver a message, after all. Perhaps you could take me to the castle.”

“Yes, sir.” Captain Satou nodded, and we boarded the LAV once again.

I sat on the driver’s bench of the bird-drawn carriage, Myusel holding the reins. On my trip to school each day, I had a carriage and driver hired out by the Eldant Empire—but today we’d forcibly relieved that driver of his duties, practically hijacking his carriage. We could hardly have told him to head for the border with Bahairam at full speed.

Myusel had learned the basics of carriage driving during her time in the military, so for the time being, we were doing fine. There would probably come a point when we had to rest the giant birds pulling the carriage, or when Myusel herself would need a break, but at this rate, it wouldn’t take us too long to get to the place where the puppet drake was kept.

Incidentally, Myusel wasn’t wearing her usual maid uniform right now, but instead a magical outfit Petralka had given her long before. Apparently it had magical spells in the stitching or something, and helped amplify the wearer’s magical abilities. The sort of thing you might have called wizard-specific wear in a game. Being a gift from Her Majesty the Empress, Myusel normally kept it carefully stored away. The fact that she’d gotten it out and put it on showed just how seriously she was taking this situation. Or maybe just how worried she was.

“Um, Shinichi-sama...” Myusel said, keeping her eyes forward but noticeably concerned.

“Yeah?”

“I’m, uh... I’m really sorry.”

“About what?”

“I mean, you’re doing all this for my mother...” She bit her lip and glanced down.

“Hey, hey, hey, eyes front! Watch where you’re going!”

“R-Right! Sorry!” She quickly looked up again. But she still looked worried—or maybe I should say apologetic.

After hearing what Amatena had to say, I had decided to go to Bahairam. Myusel obviously thought it was because of her mother. Notwithstanding Clara’s antics, it was Falmelle-san I’d talked about, and even if Amatena didn’t have any role in the danger Falmelle-san was in, Myusel’s mother was essentially a hostage in Bahairam. I could hardly just abandon her on the grounds that it sounded a little dangerous.

So yes, that was part of it. But still...

“I dunno, we’re not doing it just to rescue Falmelle-san,” I said, trying to smile. “It’s a favor to Amatena and Clara.”

“You mean...” There was a long pause during which Myusel blinked several times, then looked at me. “Shinichi-sama, you and Clara are really—”

“Look forward!” I cried. When Myusel was safely looking ahead again, though, I let out a sigh. “What makes you say that?”

“That ‘fait accompli,’ whatever that means...”

“Forget it. There’s nothing between us. Never was. Heck, the whole dream I was having before I woke up wasn’t about Clara, it was about y—”

“Yes? About what?”

“Eyes front!”

“Oh, r-right!” She quickly looked forward again. You know, she always was a bit of a klutz, but as cute as that could be, if that part of her personality were to take over while she was driving a carriage, it wouldn’t be funny. Maybe it was time to have Amatena or Clara take over driving duties.

“Anyway, there’s nothing between me and Clara, and there never has been. Clara can’t seem to forget that Amatena ordered her to work her way into my affections once. I think she’s just teasing me, really.”

“I see...” Myusel said, but she still sounded anxious. Well, I guess it was hard to blame her. When you go to wake a guy up in the morning and he’s in bed with a naked woman, he’d be pretty lucky if surprised or suspicious was all you were. Imagine how much worse it would have been if I’d been naked, too.

“So, uh, listen...” I started, scratching my cheek. “I know this is partly my fault for not being clear enough.” I understood perfectly well that this wasn’t the time for this conversation, but part of me felt like maybe, with this being an emergency, I’d finally be able to say it.

“Shinichi-sama?”

“I keep telling you, look ahead. Please. Seriously, don’t look at me.”

Because this is already embarrassing enough...

“Y-Yes, sir.”

“The fact is, I adore you and Petralka and Elvia... And because I like you all so much, I can’t settle on any one of you. I don’t have it in me to be fooling around with either of the others on the side.”

Heck, if I had that sort of go-getterism, I’d probably have already gotten with at least Myusel or Elvia. It wasn’t like I hadn’t had the chance.

“If I’d only gotten to know one of you, or if only one of you had said you liked me, I could have answered without a second thought... I think,” I said. Look, I knew I sounded pretty smarmy, or at least like a former-home-security-guard nasty otaku, and that maybe the real problem was I was spoiled for choice. But right at that moment, this was how I truly felt. Yes, the Forbidden Armor had made me spew it all out right in front of Myusel and everybody, but I figured it would be different if she could hear it from me without any magical intervention.

The interlude with the armor had also ended in me being a punching bag for Elvia, Myusel, and Petralka. But she didn’t hit me this time.

“Of course, Shinichi-sama,” she said, and even with her still looking forward, I could see the gentle smile on her face.

“I’m sorry to interrupt when you’re so deep in conversation.”

“Eeyipes!”

The budding feeling between me and Myusel was shattered as Amatena stuck her head out the passenger window. For the record, the passenger compartment contained her, Clara, Minori-san, Hikaru-san, and Elvia. Brooke was kind enough to offer to come along as a bodyguard, but I didn’t feel right taking the newly minted father away from his kids, so I asked him to look after the house while we were gone instead. So the seven of us were going to Bahairam.

“We’re almost there,” Amatena said now, pointing to a small grove a ways up ahead. She touched a bracelet she was wearing. From the patterns carved into it, which were a little bit like the ones on our interpreter rings, I assumed it was some kind of magical item.

When she touched the bracelet, one corner of the forest shook violently. Myusel pulled on the reins in surprise, causing the two birds pulling the carriage to slow down, bringing the carriage gradually to rest not far from the trees.

Sticking up above the woods was a gigantic head with a spike protruding from it that looked a bit like the feather decoration on a captain’s unit, if you know what I mean. Pushing some trees aside with its gigantic wings and forelegs, squeezing past others, the bizarre thing worked its way out onto the roadway. It was, of course, a puppet drake. The one that had brought Amatena and Clara here.

“Whoa...” I said, sort of without meaning to.

This obviously wasn’t the first time I’d seen one of these creatures, but it was the first time I’d seen someone actually controlling one. Amatena’s bracelet must have magically communicated with the spike somehow.

“Everyone climb on board. This drake will carry us to the Third Capital,” Amatena said, and the note of panic in her voice was unmistakable.

Every morning, Kanou Shinichi comes to see us. The reason: to report to us on the activities and current status of Amutech before he goes to school. The organization we call Amutech was created by Ja-pan, but the house in which Shinichi and his companions live, along with various accoutrements of their daily lives, are provided by us—or more specifically, our Holy Eldant Empire. In a word, the Holy Eldant Empire is Shinichi’s employer.

So perhaps this morning routine represented, for Shinichi, a way of gauging his employer’s mood. So much, we understood perfectly well. And yet...

If this were merely an ordinary report, there would be no need for Shinichi to come to us himself. Surely he could have sent a representative, or submitted written memoranda. Indeed, Zahar had suggested pointedly at times that such a system would be far easier to keep track of for posterity. And yet Shinichi persisted in taking time out of his busy schedule each morning to meet with us. Could it be because he wished to see our face? Part of us thought so. Or perhaps, wished it were so. We understood that there was a little girl within us, within Petralka an Eldant III, who felt it should be so.

For the Empress of the Holy Eldant Empire, one who stands atop an entire nation, it was a rather sorry thing to admit.

But such, perhaps, is what puts the weak in the weak-kneed feeling of love. That we should have been attracted to such a milquetoast is a mystery to ourselves, but perhaps there is no logic to feelings like these. Garius said as much. But whatever the case, we looked forward to our time in the audience chamber each morning. And so...

“Allow me to extend my fondest hopes that Your Majesty remains in good health and high spirits.”

The moment we saw it was not Shinichi who appeared in the chamber, we were greatly disappointed. Perhaps our displeasure was evident on our face, for the man who had appeared in place of Shinichi—Matoba—wiped a cloth across his forehead, although he was not sweating. He forced an ambiguous smile onto his face. “Ah............ It would seem that in high spirits, at least, you are not.”

“Most perceptive.” We narrowed our eyes at the bureaucrat from Ja-pan and asked, “Where is Shinichi?”

Behind Matoba waited a man from the Jay Ess Dee Eff, the Ja-panese army (though Minori always insisted, with a sort of smile, that it was no army). That was all, though—our evangelist of otaku culture was nowhere to be seen. Neither were his bodyguard Minori nor his fellow instructor Hikaru. In other words, not one of the Ja-panese people who taught at the school was present today. Surely they hadn’t forgotten to put in an appearance here before they went.

“Yes, about that...” Matoba produced a folded piece of paper. “He and I crossed paths just as I was arriving at the mansion.”

“Crossed paths?”

“This was stuck to the door of the house.”

We inspected the paper. “...Am at... where? Please don’t... what? Going to... What is this?”

The paper, of course, was written in Ja-panese. Thanks to Shinichi’s instruction, we knew how to read a certain amount of the language, but the more complex characters called kanji continued to elude us. We knew only that they looked vaguely Ja-panese.

“In a word, something urgent has come up, so he’s going to take off of school for a while and leave the house.”

“Something urgent?”

Something so important that he would abandon his cherished school and forgo an audience with the imperial person? We frowned at the paper, trying to make sense of it, but then Matoba said, in a voice that suggested he didn’t quite believe it himself, “It would seem that the president of Faugron & Associates has become involved in some sort of incident that threatens her life...”

“Faugron & Associates?” That was the name of the organization owned by the mother of Myusel Fourant, the maid who served at Shinichi’s mansion. We instructed Matoba to read the page in full, whereupon we discovered that Falmelle Faugron was in danger, and had called for Shinichi and Myusel.

“Hrm?” But that would mean that Falmelle Faugron, though in danger, had been conscious and capable of calling for Shinichi and her daughter. Unless perhaps she had simply spoken their names in a daze. To Falmelle Faugron, Shinichi was nothing more than her daughter’s employer. Why should she wish to see him at a moment of crisis?

“No...” we said, filled with foreboding. In our mind was an image of Falmelle Faugron clasping Shinichi’s hand when he raced up and saying, “Please, take care of my daughter...” She had, after all, single-handedly built the Faugron empire despite the hurdles being a woman presented. Would it be beyond her to put on a little bluff in order to secure her daughter’s future? To pretend, for example, that she was in dire straits in order to bring Shinichi and Myusel to her, then to treat the relationship between them as a fait accompli, cornering Shinichi and securing him for her daughter for real?

“Hrrrm...”

How alarming that would be. Most alarming indeed. We would not expect Myusel to take unfair advantage, but if her mother were to throw a stick into the works by forcing her hand, then we ourselves could not afford to wait. At the very least, we should send an agent of our own to confirm what was going on with Falmelle Faugron...

“Your Majesty, what is the matter?” Garius asked from beside us.

“Falmelle Faugron... Do you believe she would push her own daughter out ahead of us?”

“Majesty...” Garius said, his normally impassive face clouded by something like exasperation. “You have been reading too many—what do they call them? Romantic comedies.”

“No more than you have been reading of your bee-ell.”

“Suppose we set aside our personal concerns during royal business,” Garius said tranquilly. “You’re overthinking things, Your Majesty.”

“We certainly hope so...” We struggled to compose ourselves, then looked at Matoba—who continued to wipe at nonexistent sweat—and sighed.

This was hardly the first time I’d flown through the sky. When my family would go on vacations, we went by airplane, and here in this world, I’d ridden on the back of a “Faldra,” a mechanical creature designed to look like a dragon. But somehow, being on the back of the puppet drake wasn’t just different from being on an airplane (that should be obvious), but even from the Faldra. The wind whipped in my face the same way, but when you’re on the back of a living creature, you can feel its breathing, its pulse, its unique rhythms. I guess it’s a bit like the difference between riding a motorcycle and riding a horse.

Oh, and one other thing: the back of the puppet drake didn’t have any seats.

There were no chairs, nothing you could sit in and stretch out your legs. Instead there were some saddle-like things you could just balance in. But there weren’t enough of them for all of us. Specifically, there were enough for four people, which meant we were three short. Sitting directly on the puppet drake’s back, you could feel the muscles shift every time it flapped its wings. It didn’t feel very stable, and it wasn’t exactly a relaxing journey.

“Hrmm...” I said, watching the wings gently rise and fall to either side of me. The movements of the dragon’s muscles ran like waves under my legs.

Sitting in the saddles were Amatena, who was controlling the drake, me, Hikaru-san, and Myusel. Minori-san, Clara, and Elvia clung to the puppet drake’s back, secured only by ropes attached to metal fasteners on the saddles. The puppet drake had a nice, broad back, and was a pretty stable flier, so I guess maybe it didn’t look that dangerous. But when you thought about it, one slip of the hand could leave you dangling from nothing but a single rope. We were flying comparatively low, in hopes of avoiding being spotted by guards on either side of the Eldant/Bahairam border, but we were still several dozen meters up. Not a height you wanted to fall from.

“I just don’t quite feel sure about this,” I said.

“Relax,” Amatena said, glancing back over her shoulder at me. “I personally guarantee your safety.”

“That’s not really what I meant,” I said with a wry smile.

Amatena was talking about the situation after we arrived in Bahairam. As someone from the Eldant Empire, any Bahairamanian who found me and didn’t know much about who I was might very well arrest me. But I knew Amatena and Clara would do their utmost to keep me safe.

“I’ll protect you, I swear it,” Amatena said. Something in her tone wasn’t quite usual, and I blinked a few times. Then Myusel added from beside me, “Sh-Shinichi-sama, I’ll keep you safe m-m-myself!” She sounded unusually determined.

“Yeah, ’s right, and I’m here too!” Elvia said from my other side. She sat up to talk to me, but the rushing wind quickly threatened to carry her away and she lay back down.

“Are you forgetting that protecting Shinichi-kun is technically my job?” Minori-san said with a grin. “Looks like I’ve got enough help that I don’t need to worry about it anymore. Boy, Shinichi-kun, everyone sure loves you.”

“Uh, I don’t think this is about love, okay?”

“The only thing worse than a womanizer is a womanizer who doesn’t know he’s a womanizer,” Hikaru-san said. Man, now even he was piling on me.

“I’m telling you, that’s not what this is! I’m just talking about how scary it is to be on the back of a puppet drake with no protection and nothing around you! This isn’t the time for petty arguments, anyway! We have to rescue Myusel’s mom, and everyone in the Third Capital in Bahairam...”

People’s lives were at stake—we had to shelve our love triangles or love squares or whatever they were! That’s what I was trying to say.

“I’m sorry,” Myusel said, subdued. “You’re doing this for... for my mother.”

“Okay, speaking of conversations we’ve already had, I told you, I’m doing this because I want to. So you don’t have to worry so much about it!”

“Shinichi-sama...” Myusel looked at me, her big, purple eyes brimming. She blinked away tears that shimmered like gemstones.

Man, Myusel is wicked cute when she’s like this! And those sweet tears... It’s enough to make a guy just think about wanting to tease a girl a little bit, just tweak her a tad...

Oh, uh, but, not like that, okay? I honestly, earnestly just meant Myusel is cute and—

“That’s right, that’s just the kind of person Shinichi-sama is!” Elvia said, poking her head up between me and Myusel. “It’s just like how he rescued me when I got captured!”

Gosh, now that I thought about it, that was actually quite a while ago.

“Oh, I’m sure Shinichi-san had more than goodness of heart in mind when he helped you, Elvia,” Hikaru-san broke in with his usual disconcerting accuracy. Uh, that was true, as far as it went. Despite it all, he was an otaku, too, and he probably knew just what had been in my head.

“Which isn’t necessarily to say that it’s pure goodness of heart this time,” Minori-san added casually. “I think he wants to show Myusel’s mom his very best side, don’t you? You know, for the future.”

“Ya mean...” Elvia blinked. “The one Shinichi-sama’s actually moe for is... Myusel’s mom?!”

“Where did you get that from?!” I exclaimed, but Elvia was clenching her fist as if to say, An ambush? Here?!

“But then, Myusel’s mom looks just like Myusel and looks super-duper young, too! That’s what you’re into, isn’t it, Shinichi-sama?!”

“Look, I grant that they look a lot alike, but then why the heck would I be moe for Falmelle-san and not Myusel?!”

“Your manga are full of leading ladies who look young but are secretly older! Is that your Achilles’ heel, Shinichi-sama? Is it loli-granny moe?!”

“No, that—wait, isn’t that sort of rude to Falmelle-san?!” Falmelle-san wasn’t a loli, but she was hardly a “granny,” either. Hmm, but then, if Myusel and I had a kid, Falmelle-san would be a grandmother by definition... Nope, not the time for that train of thought!

“Shinichi-sama...” Myusel said, looking more and more pathetic.

“Older sister-type characters are one thing, but I really don’t think there’s ever a route that lets you get with the heroine’s mom! Please don’t look so traumatized!”

“Hmm, isn’t Falmelle-san single these days?”

“Just because you can stir the pot doesn’t mean you have to, Minori-san!”

I couldn’t believe this. I knew they had time to kill until we reached the Third Capital, but why did they have to spend it talking about this?

Minori-san grinned and apologized, but then she went on: “Hey, nothing wrong with making yourself look good in the eyes of the mother of a potential spouse. Once you meet the parents, the wedding is just around the corner, right?”

Elvia’s tail shot straight up and she leaned even closer to me. It looked like she had finally connected the dots. She looked more than ever like she was going to be blown off the back of the puppet drake; Hikaru-san reached up and hauled her back down a bit with a “Hey, watch out.”

“Grgh... U-Um, o-okay, so, so, so as long as we’re in Bahairam, I think you should take the chance to come meet my mom! And my dad, too.”

For some reason, Amatena was nodding. “He’s already met Jijilea.”

“Excuse me, but we all understand I’m going to the Third Capital specifically and only to stop some catastrophe, right?!”

At this rate, we were going to skip the capital entirely and go straight to Elvia’s house. It was a frightening thought. I felt uncomfortably like the moat around me was being filled in, or like my escape route was being cut off. Yes, I did wonder what kind of people Elvia’s parents were—purely out of curiosity—but meeting the parents of a girl who’s admitted she likes you—being introduced to them!—is a pretty nerve-racking event. And if it looks like their daughter is part of a three- or even four-sided love polygon, well, depending on Dad’s personality, I might find myself dead right then and there. If my little sister Shizuki ever brought home some guy who was like, “Yeah, man, I’m, like, so totally in love with Shizuki, it’s wild, man”—I think my dad would flip over a table. In fact, he might tear up the whole floor.

“We should be able to see the Third Capital soon,” Clara said, as calmly as if none of the preceding conversation had bothered her at all. Feeling more than a little relieved, I looked in the direction she was pointing.

“Huh?”

I could see some kind of dark spot floating in the air. Was it just my imagination? Or ocular floaters or something? But the black dot didn’t move from side to side, and it seemed to keep getting bigger. And then I saw more of them...

“Are those...?”

“This is bad,” Amatena said.

Then Minori-san, who had produced a small pair of binoculars from somewhere: “Dragons?!”

“Huh? Puppet drakes?”

“No,” Amatena replied with a shake of her head. “They don’t have spikes.” She didn’t have binoculars, but she seemed to have a perfectly firm grasp of what was going on. She must have some vision.

I caught my breath. That would mean the creatures on a course to intercept us were not being controlled by the Bahairamanian army—they were just wild dragons. In the Eldant Empire, it had taken two or three full squadrons of heavily armed knights to subdue just one of those creatures. They were the strongest things around, for real. And now I saw one... two... three... five?!

“This is bad!” I yelped.

“I believe we’ve established that!” Amatena replied, and at the same time she did something that made the puppet drake go into a steep dive. Myusel and I hurried to secure ourselves in our seats, while Hikaru-san hung on tight to Elvia, who looked like she might fall off again. Minori-san, trusting the rope to hold her fast, dug through her stuff until she came up with her Type-89 pistol.

“I guess a pea shooter like this isn’t going to do much against them,” she said with an unmistakable hint of resignation.

It was true; the Type-89 used basic antipersonnel ammunition. The fast-moving but small-caliber bullets weren’t likely to bother a wild animal. This was a world away from the magnum rifle you would normally use if you were hoping to hunt bear or moose. And given that dragons were a lot bigger than either of those, and covered in scales, they seemed likely to deflect bullets pretty well. Add to that the fact that reptiles didn’t feel pain as acutely as other animals, and these creatures weren’t going to be scared off by a little pinprick.

So, to reiterate once again: this was very, very bad.

It wasn’t just a question of firepower. We hardly had ground to fight on. Comparatively stable though the puppet drake was, if you tried to fire a gun from its back, your accuracy would probably go through the floor. You could say goodbye to any hope of aiming for the enemy’s eyes or mouth or other sensitive but small areas.

So what should we do? What should we do?!

While I dithered, the wild dragons were approaching us at a tremendous speed. And then, at an equally tremendous speed, there was suddenly fire everywhere.

Dragon breath—the monster had breathed fire at us as it passed by.

“Eeyow hothothot!”

Amatena took evasive maneuvers so the attack didn’t hit us directly, but small fires broke out here and there, like among the luggage and on various ropes.

“Fires! We have to put out the fires, right now!” I exclaimed. Myusel, Hikaru-san, and I hurriedly grabbed pieces of fabric or whatever was nearby and started beating at the flames, but for some reason they just wouldn’t go out. Maybe dragon spit was especially flammable or something, so it could stick to things and keep on burning. I seem to recall that flamethrower fuel worked that way. And then there was...

“The heat!” The belt securing Myusel to her saddle was on fire, too. She beat desperately at it, trying to put it out—but then there was a snap and it broke.

“Myusel!” I saw her whole body lean to one side, and then she disappeared from view. It was pure, simple good luck that when I reached out, completely on intuition, my hand found hers. The only thought in my head was to grab hold. I groaned as Myusel’s entire body weight suddenly strained against my wrist, elbow, and shoulder. “Hrrgh... Myusel...!”

I was finally able to look at her, and discovered I was the only thing holding her up. Below her, the scenery rushed by at an incredible speed. I reckoned we were about thirty meters up. Plenty fatal. But heck, at this speed, we could be at a tenth of that altitude and you would still break every bone in your body falling off the puppet drake.

Shit, shit, SHIT!

“Sh—Shinichi-sama!”

“H-Hang on! I’m going to pull you up!”

I tried to force all my strength into dragging her up the side of the drake, but I just couldn’t get any power into my shoulder and elbow. Maybe they’d taken too much of a shock grabbing hold of her. No matter how I struggled to lift her, Myusel just dangled there.

I looked around, hoping for help, but Minori-san was holding fast to Clara to keep her from falling, and Hikaru-san was doing likewise for Elvia. Plus they were trying to put out the fires at the same time. Suffice to say they had their hands full. And with the puppet drake still corkscrewing and turning to dodge the dragons, they had to really concentrate or the girls could fall off at any moment.

No good. If I was going to save Myusel, I was going to have to do it myself. I began to pull, not caring if my arm popped clean off.

But that was when we got hit with the second round of dragon breath.

“What theeeyowch!”

The saddle I was sitting on had caught fire this time. I reflexively jumped, at which point the belt securing me to the saddle—or really, the metal fasteners securing the belt to the saddle—gave way. I had probably helped—they must have started to deform with me pulling so hard.

And that, of course, meant—

“Wah!”

I was suddenly tumbling through the air, still holding Myusel’s hand.

No! Bad! Badbadbadbadbad!

This was looking like the end of my life, whether I was resigned to it or not!

Directly below us, the wilderness had abruptly given way to what looked like the streets of the Third Capital, but I didn’t see anything that looked very inviting to land on. No tree branches to catch us, no lakes or ponds to break our fall. Just very hard-looking rooftops, bricks everywhere, and packed-earth streets. Every surface we could potentially land on said: insta-kill.

Wait, so was I—was I going to die a virgin?!

Arrgh! If I’d known this was going to happen—if I’d only known, I would have—uh, well... I would have played that one game, and read that manga I kept putting off—er, and I would also have asked Myusel to—aaahhhhh!

My brain was going a million miles a minute but not getting anywhere, and my sense of time seemed outrageously expanded. Myusel and I fell and fell, our hands clasped, the wind whipping in our ears. And somewhere in the middle of it all...

“Tifu murottsu!” I heard Myusel cry, and the storm of wind around us immediately calmed down.

No, not really. What had happened was, we’d stopped falling so fast.

I gaped.

“Tifu murottsu!” Myusel used the most basic of attack magic again.

There was almost no lag at all between when she completed the incantation and when the magic activated. Normally there’s a beat between the two, but just now the spell took effect almost as soon as she was done speaking. Maybe that was thanks to the magical outfit she was wearing. Plus—and it’s hard to gauge these things just by sight, but still—it looked like the amount and force of the wind she generated was much greater than usual.

I get it!

I finally realized what she was doing. Using the same spell several times in succession cuts way down on how long you have to spend on the incantation. By pointing Tifu Murottsu straight down and using it at the maximum strength possible, she was able to slow our descent considerably. We were in freefall, so the equal and opposite reaction to the downward gust of wind was to push back up on us.

But she wouldn’t be able to slow us down enough, not on her own.

Okay, what was it? The incantation, how did it go? It was... Uh... Come on! Spell, spell, spell!

“Ahhhhh!” Even as I screamed, I managed to yelp out the chant.

“Tifu murottsu!”

“Tifu murottsu!”

The two of us desperately fired our spells off, but we kept falling. There were the rooftops, getting closer and closer.

“Myusel!”

“Yes, sir!”

We were communicating almost telepathically. It was obvious she knew exactly what I had in mind.

We each readied a Tifu Murottsu as strong as we could possibly make it, took aim at the fast-approaching rooftop—and then let loose at exactly the same spot, at exactly the same time. Two spells, one of them amplified by magical clothing, started up a tremendous tornado of wind right on the roof. It spread out like a bomb blast in every direction. Including up, toward us.

There was the force of a physical blow, and the speed of our descent dropped again. Myusel and I hit the rooftop, clinging to each other. The landing knocked the air out of our lungs, and we rolled several times across the roof.

Just as we were in danger of tumbling over the edge, we stopped.

“Cough... Hack... Hrrgh... That hurt...” I finally managed.

I guess I should have been grateful that hurt was all it did. I don’t know how far up we fell from, but dropping off a dragon in midair and winding up with nothing more than a few bruises was pretty darn good luck.

“Myusel, are you okay?”

“Yes... You, Shinichi-sama?”

“Yeah, thankfully.”

Only then did we let go of each other and sit up. Even we couldn’t bring ourselves to be embarrassed at a moment like this.

I took a long look upwards. What had happened to the others? The question burned in my mind, but the only thing I could say for certain was that I no longer saw the puppet drake overhead, or the silhouette of the dragon that had attacked us. I took a look around, and far in the distance, practically on the other side of the city, I could see a dark spot heading for the ground, trailing smoke. That, I guessed, was our puppet drake.

“Yikes...”

That looked like a crash landing in the making. For the time being, though, they were still airborne. If everyone could just hang on to the drake, there was every chance they would make it to the ground in one piece. I didn’t see the other dragon, either. Maybe they only hunted other flying things.

So, uh... good for a start, I guess?

But all wasn’t quite well.

“This place...” I said. The first word I would have come up with for it was hot. “Eeyikes,” I said as I looked out from the edge of the roof.

I had been too busy to notice while we were falling, but now I saw that just like Amatena had said, pillars of flame—there was no other word for them—were bursting out of the ground all over the city. Even at a quick glance, I could spot several decimated buildings. They appeared to have been destroyed when gouts of fire spewed up from directly beneath them.

The pillars of flame burned incessantly, the way you might expect from a gas fire or something. Given how blackened the earth and buildings around them were, they must have been awfully hot. What on earth could be fueling them? They didn’t produce any smoke to speak of, which made it seem like maybe underground natural gas deposits were behind this. But whatever the case...

“This place is practically leveled already,” I whispered desolately. I hardly saw any people. Had they all escaped? Or had they died...? That didn’t even account for the many people who, Amatena had said, were trapped by rubble or the flames.

I hope Falmelle-san is okay...

“First things first. Let’s head for this Dragon’s Den.” I looked toward a small hill rising in the center of the Third Capital. If what Amatena had told us was true, that would be the location of the Dragon’s Den.

“Yes, sir,” Myusel nodded—and then she squeezed my hand.

“Er—?”

I was surprised by this unusually forward gesture from her, but she looked at me with an expression of resolve that seemed as tragic as it did heroic. “I swear I’ll protect you.”

“Uh... I think that’s usually the guy’s line. But, uh...” To be fair, I hardly knew who had saved who when we were falling.

This seemed right for me and Myusel. Neither one of us specifically saving the other, but sort of—supporting each other. Okay, so my manly pride made me want to burst out, “No matter what happens, I will keep you safe!” or something like that. But that would’ve been—unrealistic, let’s say? Inappropriate, at the very least.

Anyway...

“Let’s at least see how far we can get.”

How close we could make it to the center of the Third Capital—to the Dragon’s Den? That seemed like the best choice we had at the moment, anyway. It wasn’t like we could just waltz back to Eldant at this rate.

“Yes, sir.” I felt Myusel’s hand tighten around mine again as we turned and headed into the wilderness that was the city now.

The smell of burning assaulted my nose. Was it the half-cooked puppet drake beside us, or the whole Third Capital? I couldn’t tell. Pillars of flame sprouted all over the city, scorching the area even now. Near those pillars, everything was vulnerable. Trees, anything made of paper—any of it could be caught up in a stray spark and set alight.

“So hot...” I took out a handkerchief and wiped my glasses, which were smeared with sweat. Even hidden in the shadow of some debris, the heat enveloped us and made us uncomfortably hot. The Kingdom of Bahairam already had a warmer average temperature than the Eldant Empire, but at that moment it must have been more than 40° C in the Third Capital.

“Huh. I think this puppet drake’s flying days are over,” Hikaru-kun said with a sigh. In front of him, our drake was keeled over. It wasn’t dead, but there was a huge gash at the base of its right wing, right across the muscles it would need to fly. It had managed to help us glide in, but that was the absolute most it could have done. No more racing through the sky for us.

I remembered hearing at one point that dragons weren’t like birds; they didn’t necessarily have to flap their wings in order to fly. But whether by magic, or sprite power, or whatever, the wings were nonetheless the “core” or “axis” around which flying took place.

“Guess we can just be grateful it glided down to the ground for us,” I said with a sigh. With that dragon attack, we had just avoided a very fatal crash landing. According to Amatena, dragons had the senses of the reptiles they resembled. In other words, they weren’t as sensitive to pain as mammals were, and our puppet drake continued on under Amatena’s control despite being grazed by dragon fire a couple of times.

On top of that, it looked like the wild dragons had just attacked the puppet drake because it had wandered too close to them. Maybe our attackers didn’t realize we were clinging to its back; in any event, when the puppet drake started going down, trailing smoke, the attackers didn’t pursue. We could count ourselves lucky for that.

But it wasn’t all sunshine and good news.

“Hrm,” I said, taking off my overshirt and rolling up my sleeves as I went to inspect the cargo. I had packed two aluminum-alloy trunks full of weapons and gear, but one of them had tumbled off somewhere during our glide in, while the other must have been scorched by dragon fire, because the edges of the case were badly deformed.

We managed to get the case open, and discovered that the Type-89 ammunition and spare bandoliers, along with the C4 explosive and flashbang grenades, were all safe. However, I’d brought a radio device and several other electronics of various descriptions, the resin casings of which were all now melted beyond usability. I figured we could just be grateful the ammunition hadn’t detonated in the face of such intense heat.

“Guess the question is what we do now,” Hikaru-kun said. Out of the people standing here, I would have put him lowest on the list when it came to survivability in combat or extreme situations, but he seemed remarkably composed. Maybe it was just his personality. Not to mention that despite the long Gothic-Loli dress he was wearing even now, he didn’t appear to have sweated a drop. Elvia, standing beside him, looked more concerned than he did.

“Shinichi-sama—!”

“I think I noticed him and Myusel using Tifu Murottsu to slow their fall. At the very least, I suspect they survived the drop.”

“Huh? Y—Ya really think so?!” Elvia said, snapping back to herself.

“I can’t be sure, but there’s a good chance.”

They may have slowed their descent, but when you’re in freefall like that, you don’t exactly get to pick your landing spot. They could always have dropped right into one of those pillars of flame, or encountered any number of other potential perils. I wasn’t in a position to guarantee anything.

“Shinichi-kun being who he is, though, if he is alive, I assume he’s headed for the Dragon’s Den.”

“Good guess,” Hikaru-kun said.

“That would make heading for the Den ourselves seem like the smart play,” I said, and then looked over at Clara. She was tending to Amatena, who had stayed focused on controlling the puppet drake all the way through our landing, and had gotten burns on her left wrist and thigh for her trouble. “But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little bothered by all this.”

There was a beat. Was it Amatena’s wounds that made her grimace, or was it what I had said?

“I know it’s a big military secret, but what is the Dragon’s Den?” I closed in on Amatena as I spoke. “It doesn’t sound like it’s literally a place where a dragon lives.”

“What do you mean by that?” Hikaru-kun said, puzzled. I guess this hadn’t occurred to him yet. “Wouldn’t it be natural for dragons to defend a dragon’s den?”

“Yes, it would,” I said to him over my shoulder, with a bit of a smile. “But dragons forming a coordinated air squadron and attacking only a passing puppet drake? I think that’s less natural.”

Hikaru-kun’s eyes widened as he put the pieces together. We both looked at Amatena, but neither she nor Clara said anything.

“Now, of course,” I continued, “migrating birds form flocks, too. It’s always possible dragons do something like that. But then why would they decide not to pursue a fallen foe?”

Still nothing.

“You said it yourself, Amatena. You told us dragons are born fully formed. So there’s no need for them to protect their young, anyway.”

Protecting the nest was a behavior based primarily in the drive for species continuation. But a dragon nest wasn’t populated with defenseless pups. It was full of possibly the most dangerous creatures in this world, all of which were born completely functional. There was no need to protect the nest—in fact, there was hardly any need to build one. Which all implied one thing...

“I honestly don’t know the details,” Amatena finally said with a quick sigh. “Different command structures, remember. As I told you, it’s the Undertakers who oversee the Dragon’s Den, and they report directly to the Father-ruler. Completely different chain of command from mine. I—we—aren’t even told what they do in there.” She shook her head.

“Ugh, parallel command structures,” I groaned. “Is there anything less efficient?”

Different command structures meant minimal sharing of information, so that even those who worked side by side in the same organization sometimes hardly knew what the other was doing. It was ridiculous. Not that it didn’t happen in the JSDF or the Japanese bureaucracy, so I wasn’t one to judge.

“But we are both military,” Amatena said, “and when you serve long enough, you start to hear the rumors about the Dragon’s Den.”

“Rumors?”

“They say it’s not just dragons that go in there, but all kinds of strange and mysterious things. I don’t know what, exactly. Just that, since the Dragon’s Den got its research programs up and running, our country has seen gradual economic improvements, and that we’ve also been bringing in people from other countries with technical expertise. Which makes me think they—”

Then she stopped. She looked around as if she had noticed something; Clara and Elvia likewise were scanning the area, their ears and tails moving. Clara and Amatena looked as expressionless as ever; Elvia was clearly nervous.

“What’s going on?” Hikaru-kun asked—and Elvia moved to put him protectively behind her.

“Big Sis Ama...”

“So we’re surrounded.”

“...Oh we are, are we?” I frowned but released the safety on my Type-89. I’d noticed the people moving into position around us at almost the same moment as Amatena and Clara, but I had foolishly assumed they were Bahairamanian civilians who had failed to escape. I didn’t have the sense that they wanted to kill us or even fight. And if they were just private citizens, then as long as we had Amatena and Clara with us, surely there was no need to expect any trouble. Right?

“What’s happening?” I asked the other women. Amatena and Clara looked as alert and on the defensive as Elvia did.

“I don’t know who they are, but I doubt they’re friendly,” Amatena said. At that moment, a series of silhouettes appeared on the rubble of a nearby building. The light from the pillars of fire combined with the piles of debris cast crazy shadows all over the area, and the newcomers used this to their advantage, making it hard to see them clearly. I could only make out dark humanoid shapes. The one thing that seemed certain was that there was something strange about them.

Gradually, the net began to tighten. The silhouettes slid closer, but nobody called out or asked if we were all right. If they were just ordinary citizens, then you would have expected them to say something when they saw Amatena’s uniform. Which probably made them...

“Enemies?” I said.

We didn’t know who they were, where they came from, or what they represented, but it seemed like a safe assumption.

The city was just... devastated, as far as the eye could see. The pillars of flame that made the whole place so hot were everywhere. It was like a gigantic forest of fire trees, or a cemetery with burning pillars instead of grave markers... Then there was the roar of the superheated air, a continuous pressure you could feel everywhere. Rubble and debris from smashed buildings was scattered on the ground, scorched or melted, and most of the roads were blocked. Once in a while, new pillars of flame would erupt from beneath it all, making it all but impossible to get around the debris if you weren’t being very careful.

The whole world had become full of death. Maybe this was what hell looked like.

Of course, there were no guarantees we were safe where we were, either. We could hardly run away—it was everything we could do just to keep ourselves safe from the heat of the flames. We elves are relatively capable magic users. We’re especially gifted with wind magic, and at that moment just about everyone in the caravan, including myself, was using some form of it, creating a whirlwind to ward off the scorching heat. So far, we had somehow managed to keep ourselves from being boiled alive.

I spoke to my subordinates. “Lindel-kun, trade places with Parselba-kun. And Ericks-kun, you trade with me.” Parselba and Ericks had already been using their magic continuously for close to half the day. If we didn’t relieve them soon, they would grow so tired that it wouldn’t be possible for them to recuperate their lost magical powers. We didn’t know how long these pillars of flame might be here for, so it was less crucial to push ourselves to the very limits than to stay consistent, trading places as necessary, in order to protect ourselves with the wind.

“Times like this, even I can appreciate those oafs’ magic,” I said with a sigh.

“Those oafs” were dwarves. Long-standing antagonists of elves, they might be as short as their own tempers and stink of dirt, but it was impossible to deny their awesome command of the magics of earth and metal. If they’d been trapped here, they could have dug themselves a foxhole or two and simply hidden from the trouble. If, that was, the flames didn’t go on so long that their hideout ended up doubling as a stewpot with them inside.

But in any event...

“Madam President, you already took a shift before Ericks. Please don’t overwork yourself,” Parselba said, coming up beside me to take over from Lindel. It was true; I had been handling his area before Ericks took over.

“It’s quite all right,” I said. “If I really can’t go on, I promise I’ll let you know.” Then I intoned a spell, keeping up the wall of wind Ericks had created.

Parselba Grain had uncharacteristically sharp features for an elf; now he watched me with a complicated mixture of emotions on his face. He had been a part of Faugron & Associates since my father’s time, meaning he was important to me. After my father died, it would have been perfectly possible for Parselba to take over the company, but instead he dutifully pulled strings and whispered in ears so that I, the daughter of the family, could inherit the business.

I owed him a great deal, including much of my education in the trade, but he refused to be anything more than Faugron’s head clerk. This meant I found myself giving him a great many orders, but it never seemed to bother him.

“You’re our leader,” he said now. “The one who must coordinate and command everyone here. If you collapse from strain, we will have lost our head. The hands and feet alone can do nothing. Magic drains away the spirit—you of all people should be taking a longer rest than most.”

“Very well...” I finally said, with another sigh. Age and experience had their place, and Parselba usually turned out to be right. I promised him I would try to find someone else to switch with as soon I could and go get some rest. Then, continuing to maintain the magic, I took another look around.

I could see one thing very clearly: we weren’t going to get anywhere like this. What we needed was some way to change the situation, by force if necessary.

Truth be told, we weren’t completely without an escape route. If we could find one road where the rubble wasn’t quite as bad, and one place on that road where the gap between the pillars of flame was a little wider, someplace you could sneak through without getting roasted, then there might be a way out of all this.

But escaping this spot wouldn’t mean getting out of the Third Capital. It would, rather, mean heading directly toward the center of the city: the military facility the soldiers here called the Dragon’s Den. Escaping into the Den might prove our salvation. Underground, we would be at least somewhat shielded from the heat. At the very least, it could give us a brief rest.

Unfortunately, the Bahairamanian soldiers, especially the so-called Undertakers who were directly responsible for the Dragon’s Den, weren’t even remotely willing to let foreigners into the building. I wasn’t sure if any of them were still inside, but if they were, they would certainly prevent us from entering. And if they had already left, I had to assume they would have closed any entrances and exits tightly to prevent outsiders from getting in. Neither was a helpful prospect.

“M-Madam President!” one of my subordinates called in a shaking voice. “Look!”

Surprised, I looked in the direction they indicated. I was even more taken aback to see a human figure where I was sure there hadn’t been one moments before. The backlight from the pillar of flame made it impossible to make out any features, but from the silhouette, the person appeared young, perhaps a child. Dwarves cut short figures as well, but they looked more filled out, rounder. This person had slim arms and legs; they looked almost delicate.

“Where have you come from?” my subordinate demanded as the figure came closer. “Is there a way through there? The rubble—”

“Who are all of you?” the figure demanded in return. I was surprised: it was a woman. The high pitch of her voice made her sound young, almost childish. She went on: “You lot aren’t with Bahairam, are you? You don’t smell like it. So who the hell are you? Answers, now! And careful, ’cause those answers are gonna help me decide what to do with ya.”

Is it just an affectation?

For a child, she seemed awfully forward with a bunch of adults. Downright rough, in fact. And she sounded like a street brawler. Yet there was something oddly antique about her diction, as well. Maybe she was, say... a former rich householder, since reduced to poverty?

“What in the name of—?!” one of my subordinates exclaimed. At first, I didn’t know what had startled him so badly—but then the figure came closer, and as I became able to discern her features, I finally understood.

She was clearly not human. Oh, she looked human enough. Legs and arms in all the right places, textbook human facial features, nothing amiss. But she was wearing some kind of undergarment that left much of her body exposed, including a large swath of her not-yet-developed chest. And there, around her collarbone, something glowed a pale bluish-white just under the skin.

It took the form of three diamonds, all in a row. You could almost mistake it for a tattoo, but it wasn’t. The light pulsed slowly, almost as if it were breathing. No, she wasn’t human, but just as clearly, she wasn’t an elf, dwarf, or beast person, either.

The lights in her chest didn’t look like natural parts of her body. They looked artificial, and the fact that the rest of her appeared so typical was downright chilling. Could she be some kind of... doll? I knew of prosthetic arms and legs; the ones the dwarves made were especially famous for their quality. Imbuing them with the right magic could make them virtually as usable as an original limb. But that didn’t seem to be quite what was going on here, either. Limbs that had been amputated or lost could in best-case scenario be replaced with artificial substitutes, but torsos? Heads? Not so much. Or was it only the relatively small space around the lights in her chest that was man-made?

In short: what in the world was she?

She’d asked us who we were, but without knowing anything about her, a thoughtless answer could potentially destroy us all. We didn’t know any more about this girl-like thing than we did about anything else that was going on around us right now. We were in no position to negotiate.

“You’re right, we aren’t Bahairamanian citizens. We’re merchants who just happened to be here on a trading mission. These people are my employees. And we’re in something of a tight spot, what with this disaster suddenly catching us all up.”

“Disaster...?” The girl-like thing cocked her head, puzzled. “Disaster. I see... Disaster. It does look that way. Well, you ain’t from Bahairam, I believe that much. But... hell’s bells. This is quite a thing.”

I exchanged mystified looks with Parselba. What was this girl-like thing (that was the best thing I could think of to call her) talking about?

“Argh,” she finally said, giving an annoyed scratch of her head. Then she glared at us again. “Huh, well, can’t have a bunch of BOUs wandering around loose. Better clean ’em up.”

She stuck her hand in the air, almost like she was signaling to someone.

Or something: from behind an especially large mountain of rubble, dragon heads, no fewer than three of them, rose up on long necks.