Chapter Four: No Business Like...

The month or so after that was... turbulent, to say the least.

Up until that point, we really just had to gin up something that looked more or less plausible, so things had been pretty relaxed. But if we were going to create an entire movie, there were a lot of details that suddenly had to be changed, including filming a bunch of scenes with the JSDF that we hadn’t originally expected to need. I constantly had to be in about five places at once.

When school was over, there would be a whirlwind of preparations for shooting. Sometimes we would even use our little break periods to get ready.

Even our once-slapdash dragon model suddenly got built out to something that was hard to tell apart from the real thing, ready for any scene where it might be needed. Profuse thanks to the dwarf parents who helped out with that.

We would rehearse repeatedly ahead of time so that when Petralka arrived, we wouldn’t waste a moment of filming time. Our work schedules were detailed practically down to the minute. It was like being a pop idol or something.

But finally...

“All right—cut!” Minori-san called. “That’s it! All our scenes are done shooting!”

I gave a silent cheer when I heard that. Others were cheering, too, and not silently. Everyone there, everyone involved with the film, was punching the air or raising their hands or doing a little jig, shouting and hurrah-ing. It wasn’t just the students, either—the adults who had pitched in to help, the knights who came along as Petralka’s bodyguards, and the JSDF staff present were all part of it.

The first thing I felt was tremendous relief. Given how packed our schedule had been, that only made sense. Now, at last, our movie shoot was well and truly over. It had been a blast, but now it was done.

“Just gotta check the take,” Minori-san said, calling up some recordings on her computer screen. I glanced at them out of the corner of my eye, but then I sat down right there on set, still in my student uniform costume—and just about fell asleep. The hilltop was covered in neat blades of grass that were really very pleasant to lie in.

I was so tired. And yet, inside, I felt a swirl of emotion. Was this what they called a sense of accomplishment?

Of course, there was still plenty of work to do. Editing, music, and sound effects, for example.

Lying there, looking up at the twilight sky, a shadow suddenly floated over me. Trying to move as little as I had to, I turned my head to look up.

“Excellent work, Master.”

Myusel was standing beside me, also still in her filming uniform. For a second, I was fixated on her bare legs, which were visible under the hem of her skirt.

“Master?” Her suspicious voice brought me back to myself, and I quickly tore my attention away from her legs, making myself smile at her. Privately, I was wishing we had designed the skirts to be just a tiny bit shorter, but for the time being that would be my secret.

“You did great too, Myusel. You’re not tired?”

“No, I’m all right. I think you must be far more fatigued than me.”

“You know, oddly enough, it’s not as bad as all that.” The work had been pretty neatly divided, after all. “More importantly...”

I turned my head and scanned for one particular person, whom I soon found.

Petralka an Eldant III stood there, surrounded by students and their parents and looking somewhat uncomfortable. Whatever else she may have been, she was very much the star of our production. Partly, of course, people just wanted to get close to the empress, but she would have been the center of attention even without her royal rank.

She alone, among the entire joyous crowd, was wearing a gloomy expression. Maybe she still couldn’t quite accept that it was all over. So I hadn’t been able to get through to her, in the end...

That’s what I was thinking when a shout came from the distance.

“Your Majesty!”

I turned to discover a mounted knight riding straight for us. For a moment, I thought he had come to retrieve Petralka now that the filming was over, but no.

“You must run!” he shouted, the forest at his back.

For a second, we didn’t understand what he meant.

Run? From what? Why the rush?

“Hrm?” Petralka said, looking equally perplexed. “What are you—huh?”

The sound of total amazement was entirely understandable.

Because a dragon had suddenly emerged from the woods.

“Huh? Wha? What?”

A massive red form was coming our way. There was an instant where I actually wondered how our model was moving without the wyverns. But that was stupid. The obvious weight behind every footstep made it clear that this was the real thing. This wasn’t some clever mock-up. It was a flesh-and-blood monster.

“Is that...?” It had to be the one Garius had mentioned. The dragon people had been reporting in the vicinity of the capital. “And what in the world...?”

Right in the middle of its forehead was something that looked like a horn. But no—it would make sense to have a horn there, but this was clearly something man-made. It looked like a spike or a nail of some kind. It certainly hadn’t sprouted there by itself. It looked like something had pounded it in.

Wait... How is it even still alive with that thing in its head?!

It sure looked like the spike should have been piercing the dragon’s brain.

“Run! Run! Ruuuuunnnn!” the knights and JSDF soldiers shouted to the students and parents, pulling out their weapons.

But it was too late.

Roooooooooooooooooooooooaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrr!

The dragon bellowed.

The air shook, and believe it or not, several flashes that looked a lot like lightning lanced through the sky. I found out later that this was apparently caused by elemental sprites startled by the monster; they flash when frightened, the way humans scream.

Several of the students stood rooted to the spot, unable to run away. I could definitely sympathize. Feeling overwhelmed when confronted with something like this was a perfectly natural reaction.

As for me, I didn’t fall to the ground or anything, but my knees were shaking so hard that I couldn’t move.

“Run awaaghh!”

One flap of the giant wings sent both the knights and the JSDF soldiers tumbling.

This was not good. I was sure that if the JSDF had been able to meet the dragon in formation and with their weapons at the ready, they wouldn’t have had any trouble with it, but when it just showed up like this, they were totally on the back foot.

The dragon simply knocked our bodyguards out of the way. It glided overhead for several dozen meters at low altitude, lazily taking in those of us who stood there frozen with fear. Then, fangs bared, it launched an attack in our direction—

—straight at the other dragon.

That is to say, at the model we had been using.

We looked on agog as the dragon, practically ignoring us, tore into the wireframe model, biting and slashing at it.

Wait... This couldn’t mean...

Had this dragon really taken our model for a rival? And was it here to fight over territory?!

If so, our dwarves with their fearsome creative powers had my immense gratitude.

But then...

“The cameras!”

The scream came from one of the elf students I had brought along to help with filming—it was Loek. He was already flinging himself forward, toward the spot where three film cameras stood near the model.

“Hey!” I exclaimed.

“Look out, it’s dangerous!” This came from another student—Romilda the dwarf girl, who together with her classmates immediately set about intoning some magic spell. Maybe it was the sort of earthworks magic I had seen during the soccer game. They must have been planning to attack the dragon with it.

But then someone shouted, “It’s not working! Get away!”

And it was true: they must have finished their spell, because the earth around the dragon was bubbling up. But that was all. No protective walls or sharp rocks came bursting from the ground. The dragon simply absorbed all the magic before it could have any real effect.

So magic really didn’t work on dragons.

Only physical attacks could—wait. Physical attacks?

“Loek!”

The dragon had torn the model to shreds before it finally seemed to realize its opponent was a fake. It was enough to make you wish dragons were just a little smarter, but then, that spike in its head probably wasn’t doing it any favors.

But that was neither here nor there.

The dragon seemed to have found a new enemy: the elf boy running higgledy-piggledy nearby, trying with great effort to collect the oversized cameras.

This was bad.

“What was it? Umm, uhhh, how did it go? Darn! Uhhh, umm...!”

I couldn’t get my feet to move, but at least my mouth hadn’t stopped working. And so...

“Ia redoro imu shigamu reuobu dona euruto uoi deifurisu ekamu toshifu dona ekirutsu taato imena!” By the magic power and true words within me, I command you, sprites of wind, form a fist to smite my enemy!

Awesome! I was able to remember the whole thing!

The next instant, a gust of air went shooting in the direction my palm was pointing.

That is to say, not toward the dragon, but toward Loek and his cameras, which were about to be caught up in the dragon’s claws.

Magic didn’t work on dragons, but physical attacks did. So if you could use magic on something nearby that would then effectively become a simple physical weapon, presumably the magic would work and not be absorbed. So I hoped, anyway. And it looked like I was right.

Loek, still clutching the cameras, went flying sideways. The dragon’s claws raked the empty air where he had been standing seconds earlier.

Holy crap, will you look at that?! Will you look at me?! Way to go, me! I was actually able to remember the magic spell Myusel taught me right when I actually needed it! I really did have the genuine, actual ability to use magic!

And also, I’m sorry, Loek! I think being hit by a magical wind gust probably, maybe, I hope hurts less than being mauled by a dragon! And those cameras are probably toast! Also—crap! It was supposed to be a secret even from Petralka that I can use magic! Aww, but what else was I gonna do?

These and other very excited thoughts ran through my head, but then the dragon set off after Loek.

Bad! Very bad! I had been able to put him out of the immediate danger of the monster’s claws, but that was all. We had to do something about the dragon itself, or it was going to wipe everyone here.

The knights and soldiers finally managed to pull themselves to their feet, groaning, but they were too late. The soldiers who had accompanied us to help with filming had their Type 89s and their 9mms, but they hadn’t brought any large-caliber weapons. We were facing down a creature that was as big as a pile of grizzly bears, with the pain tolerance of a reptile—small arms were hardly likely to do any damage it would notice.

Not to mention, with Loek standing right there, the chances of accidental friendly fire would prevent any serious barrage.

“Loek!” somebody shouted.

It was no use.

Loek was going to be... eaten!

There was nothing else to do but start chanting again. Myusel and the other elves joined me, not with any hope of bringing down the dragon, but just of buying enough time to protect Loek.

“Wha...?”

That was when I saw Minori-san, and at first I thought she had lost her mind with fear.

She was charging straight at the dragon—head-on.

And she didn’t have a weapon.

Well, maybe she had her pistol or something, but she hadn’t drawn it.

What in the world was she thinking?!

She swept up Loek, who hadn’t been able to get up off the ground (my fault! Sorry!), but by that point the dragon’s jaws were practically on top of her.

“Minori-san?!”

Even as I shouted, she spun around. She managed to do it even though she was carrying Loek—in fact, she used him as a sort of counterweight to add to her momentum. Was she trying to turn on her heel and run?

As a matter of fact, no.

Minori-san rose up on her pivot leg, aiming a spinning reverse roundhouse kick at the dragon’s head—or more specifically, at the thing sticking out of it.

Roooooooooooooooooooooooaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrr!

The dragon howled again and tumbled back. Minori-san’s attack seemed to have worked. The creature flapped its wings violently and waved its tail, flinging its limbs every which way. But it could no longer focus well enough to target Loek and Minori-san.

“Light it up!”

As soon as they were sure Loek and Minori-san were clear of the field of fire, the JSDF soldiers started shooting.

“Concentrate fire! Aim for its joints!” someone among the soldiers shouted.

That made sense to me. However thick its scales might be, for the purposes of mobility, its joints would have to be less heavily armored. It was the exact same strategy you would use against a giant robot. Why not a dragon?

The creature couldn’t hold its ground, and crumbled. The soldiers had focused their fire on the joint of its left leg from behind, and it could no longer stand.

Its massive wings spread open.

“It’s making a break for it!”

“No! Don’t let it get airborne!”

The soldiers’ shouting didn’t stop the dragon from lofting itself into the air, gusts eddying around it. Then, it opened its jaws and looked right at us...

“Fire breath?!”

A light began to shine in its open mouth. It looked less like a flamethrower and more like a beam cannon. The beam probably came from agitated fire sprites, magical energy the dragon had forcibly absorbed from the air around it. So dragons didn’t actually spew fire as such. They used magic, too, although differently from humans. Maybe the reason they had to be flying in order to use their fire breath was to avoid getting caught up in the conflagration themselves, or to prevent suffocation from lack of oxygen.

“Fire! I mean shoot! Shoot! Shoot! Shoot!”

The JSDF kept up the assault, but the glow in the dragon’s mouth was getting bright enough to hurt the eyes.

Then there was a roar of steel and flame.

The dragon was thrown off-balance, falling pathetically to the ground. On its back were a number of gunshot wounds, inflicted by something vastly larger than the 5.56mm bullets of a Type 89. Something powerful enough to gouge out parts of the dragon’s flesh.

“Yeah!” The knights let up a cheer.

We spotted two Light Armored Vehicles coming up behind the monster. They carried heavy cannons lobbing half-inch rounds—Browning M2s, popularly known as .50-cal machine guns. Unlike the Type 89, these weapons were developed to combat LAVs and aircraft. One shot would be enough to blow away a human being. A single round carried more than ten times the energy of a Type 89 bullet. Serious stuff.

Even a dragon couldn’t resist too many hits from—

“Watch out! Get out of there—no, get down!” someone shouted.

A glance at the dragon’s open jaws showed that the fire sprites there had begun to pulse.

No way. Was it gonna—

“Master!”

“Shinichi-sama!”

Myusel and Elvia dragged me to the ground.

The next instant, there was a huge noise, and the dragon’s head exploded like a balloon.

Maybe it was all those fire sprites going off at once when the creature lost control of them. Fried dragon bits splattered to the ground around us, and what was left of the body slumped to the ground.

“Ee-yikes!”

It was then that, with a deafening and very dangerous-sounding ka-wumph!, something like a massive steel spike landed in front of me.

Wait. I knew what this was. It was that thing that had been stuck in the dragon’s forehead.

The surface was covered in strange characters of some kind. I had seen similar markings somewhere else—on the magic rings we wore on our fingers.

Meaning this had to be...

“Are you okay?!” Soldiers jumped out of the LAV and came running over. Apparently they were from the unit that had been assigned to dragon extermination duties. Unlike the soldiers who were helping with the film shoot, they were wearing full armor and equipment. Most likely, they had been in pursuit of the monster and had followed it here.

“Thanks, I... I think...?” I said vacantly.

“Your Majesty, are you unharmed?!” The knights ran over to Petralka, their faces pale.

The next day, we found ourselves even busier than we had been when filming.

First of all, we were called to Eldant Castle, where we were peppered with questions. They wanted to know all about the dragon that had attacked our set. How had it moved? How had it flown? What had it looked like when preparing to breathe fire? And so on and so forth.

As I might have guessed from the spike in its head, this was more than just a rampaging animal that had stumbled into a human-inhabited area.

“That dragon,” Garius announced to me, Petralka, and the audience chamber, “was most likely a ‘puppet drake’ from the Kingdom of Bahairam.”

“Puppet drake?”

“We had heard rumors, but no one believed they actually existed,” Garius said with a frown. “The notion has been around for quite a long time—but no one believed it was actually feasible to use magic to turn a dragon into a sort of slave.”

Given how hard it was just to kill one of the things, it had to be just about impossible to capture one alive and position a magical instrument—that spike—in a very specific spot on its head.

The stories was, that monster was a secret weapon of an enemy nation, of a type spoken of essentially only in legends—and for some reason, it was deep inside Eldant territory.

“One possibility is that those Bahairamanian soldiers who kept violating our territory were actually looking for that creature.”

“Oh yeah... There was some kind of issue with incursions, wasn’t there?” I asked. Who knew that those two things might turn out to be connected?

Whatever the case, if Bahairam had figured out how to not only capture a dragon but turn it into a puppet wyrm, that implied they could have serious firepower on their side. This obviously meant it was possible to create such a creature, and the Holy Eldant Empire would be eager to investigate the possibility and develop similar technology. Unfortunately, the dragon’s last act had been to self-destruct, taking its all-important head with it. The magical tool involved was heavily damaged. The Eldant administration was left to gather what information it could by questioning eyewitnesses to the event.

“In any event,” Garius said, bringing things to a close after having thoroughly interrogated me and Minori-san, “it is a fact that the Jay-Ess-Dee-Eff defeated a dragon. For that, I thank them.” His eyes locked on Minori-san.

She didn’t say anything, but just smiled a quiet smile and gave one perfect bow.

We were in a bird-drawn carriage on our way to school after leaving Eldant Castle. Minori-san and I were sitting across from each other.

I had sent Myusel ahead to the school, so she wasn’t there. It was just us and the driver, and we were the only ones in the passenger compartment.

“Hey,” I said, grabbing hold of a passing thought. “Minori-san, you were really awesome.”

“Huh? What?” She blinked, obviously surprised. She didn’t seem to quite register what I was saying

“I mean... You went and just straight-up kicked a dragon in the head. Out of nowhere!”

“Oh. Well, you know.” She smiled shyly. Coming from an older woman, this was cute enough to be against the rules. “My body just kind of moved on its own. If I’d thought about it, I’m sure I would have realized it was insane.”

“If you hadn’t done it, Loek would be dead for sure.”

Plus, her kicking that spike seemed like it had really turned the tide that day. The fact that a single human had gone toe-to-toe with a dragon—even just for a second—and actually hurt it... It seemed to shake everyone else there out of their terrified stupor.

“Is that, uh, something else you learned from your dad?”

The move she had used hadn’t looked like a typical military tactic to me—more like something out of kenpou or the like. Not that I was an especially experienced observer of the martial arts. It was just a general impression.

“Yeah. I guess so, yeah. I had hand-to-hand combat training after I entered the JSDF, but my dad’s stuff was there first.” She shrugged. “Honestly, the move never went off so smoothly before.” Then, almost as an afterthought, she added, “I wonder... If my dad had seen that, would he finally have accepted me? Would he have admitted that I might be a daughter, but I’m as good as any son?”

“I don’t think that’s the point,” I said, trying to sound extra exasperated. “You were fighting a dragon, for crying out loud. A creature we would have considered the last boss from some fantasy game until just a little while ago. And you were carrying Loek, no less. And you still landed a blow that would have finished off any human opponent at all.”

“Maybe...” Minori-san said after a moment, and sort of half-smiled. A hint of the smile made its way into her voice, too. Maybe just a little bit of the burden that had been weighing her down for so long had been relieved. At least, I hoped so.

“Okay, then,” I said as the carriage came to a stop.

Minori-san and I got out and turned toward the school.

“Huh...?”

There at the front entranceway of the building stood a single student.

“Loek?”

It was the elf boy whom Minori-san had saved the day before. His face was red as he rushed up to us, like he was excited about something. He had obviously been waiting there for us to show up. Wait a second. I was sure first period should have started by now. Was he cutting?

“Minori Koganuma-sensei!”

Loek stood at attention in front of Minori-san, looking pretty much as if I didn’t even exist.

“Er... Yes? What’s going on?” Even Minori-san looked a little taken aback at this.

Blushing harder and harder by the second, Loek said, “Thank you very much for what you did yesterday!”

“Oh... Yeah. Sure. I’m glad neither of us was hurt,” she said with a smile.

Then Loek leaned backward awkwardly, looking up at the sky. He was shaking a little, as if trying to hold something in. Finally, he managed to make his eyes meet Minori-san’s again, and exclaimed, “Also!”

“Yes?”

“W-W-W-W-W-W-W-Will you marry me?!”

Minori-san and I were completely silent for a moment.

...Wait, what the heck does he think he’s asking, out of the blue like that?!

“Th-This is very sudden,” Minori-san said, the half-smile still on her face. “I have to admit, I can’t imagine why you’d want to—”

But Loek continued very seriously, “When you held me in your arms, Minori-sensei, I saw it. I saw your face in profile, strong and beautiful, like a Valkyrie, and I fell completely...!”

A single, thin trail of blood dribbled from one of his nostrils.

Was this—you know? The “rope-bridge effect”? Misattribution of arousal? Where you’re in some really dangerous situation and you happen to look at a member of the opposite sex, and you think it’s love that’s making your pulse race?

Or maybe—just maybe—Loek had really and truly fallen in love with Minori-san as she fought to save him.

“I—”

Loek took a step forward, about to go on, when we heard a dull sound of something colliding with the back of his head.

“Gnnrrrr! Hey!”

He squatted down, clutching his head. The person who had grabbed his collar turned out to be the dwarf girl, Romilda.

Ahhh. Dwarves were reputed to be strong. I’ll bet it wouldn’t be much fun to be hit by one.

“It’s bad enough for you to just skip out on classes, but to do it so you could stand here and say something so stupid—!”

“You dumb dwarf! Tactless tunnel-dweller! Let me go! Unhand me! I—I will—!”

Romilda dragged Loek kicking and screaming into the school building and out of sight.

“See?” I said.

“See? See what?” Minori-san replied, glancing at me out of the corner of her eye.

“I think you really can have them both. Strong, manly Minori-san and attractive, feminine Minori-san can coexist.”

“Hmmmmm,” Minori-san muttered, as if she wasn’t quite sure whether to be happy about that. “Well... I guess you’re right. Maybe.”

Then she smiled.

Moving on to the day after that one.

I was in the living area of my mansion, talking to Matoba-san. We were both seated on sofas, a table between us. Sitting on top of the table was a tiny memory card.

“The video is on here,” I said.

“You’re quite a help.” Matoba-san picked up the memory card in one hand, and with the other he produced a thin metal container, about the size of a cigarette case, from his bag. It must have been some kind of carrier for important data. He put the memory card inside it, then gave a long, slow nod.

“I’m relieved to have this in my possession.”

“Do you think you’ll be able to throw people off with this?”

“We’re already seeing a gradual effect,” he said, smiling.

Final shooting had only concluded the day before last, but Minori-san had been giving rough cuts to Matoba-san at intervals, and they had been leaked onto the net. Just as I had predicted, after several of the clips came out, people started saying things like, “It’s just some stealth marketing for some movie!” and “Does this even look real?”

If we then released a trailer—essentially confirming everyone’s suspicions—most of the world would politely go along with our little ruse.

“Out of curiosity,” Matoba-san said suddenly, “what do you plan to do with the other one?”

“What other one?”

“Not our making-of tape, but the complete film you’ve been shooting here.” He had a dry smile on his face.

The truth was, I hadn’t told Matoba-san about that part of the project. Maybe he had heard about it from one of the JSDF soldiers working on the shoot or something. This might just have been his way of letting me know that he knew, or perhaps he was warning me not to take him and his cohort too lightly.

Whatever the case, I replied, “I just kind of figured all of us here could watch it together.”

We had never planned to make this movie. For the most part we had done it just to indulge ourselves, because it happened to line up with what interested us. I figured we were the only ones who would enjoy watching it at all. I didn’t have any grand plans for the film, but after all the work we had put into it, the least we could do was get everyone together to watch it.

“I don’t really know when that will be yet, though...”

“I see.” nodded Matoba-san. I thought I saw the ghost of a smile play over his lips, but maybe I was just imagining it. “I’m rather impressed,” he went on.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

Matoba-san’s narrow eyes got even narrower, and the corners of his mouth rose slightly. “You took a bunch of people who had never even heard of movies, let alone otaku culture, and successfully completed an entire film shoot with them. That takes a certain gumption. It’s not something just anyone could accomplish.”

“Thank you,” I said after a moment. Given everything that had gone before, I had trouble enjoying Matoba-san’s accolades.

“I believe I’ll excuse myself now,” he said.

“Oh, sure.”

Following Matoba-san’s lead, I stood from my sofa, accompanying him to the door and watching him go.

The courtyard of Eldant Castle was crowded to overflowing.

Evening was advancing past twilight, the golden light of the setting sun giving way to the rich indigo of an ever-darkening sky. On a normal day, this was about the time we would be getting together in the mansion’s dining area to enjoy whatever Myusel had cooked for us that night.

So why were we here? Easy: we had been summoned.

It was, of course, Petralka who had issued the call. Those requested to appear included myself and Minori-san, Myusel, Elvia, Brooke, and Cerise—effectively, everyone who lived at my mansion.

What was more, when we arrived at the designated courtyard, we found Loek and Romilda, Eduardo, and all their parents, along with a unit of knights, another group from the JSDF, and also several lizardmen.

What an eclectic group.

Everyone else seemed to be having the same thought; they were all glancing at one another, unable to hide their perplexity. Well, okay, the lizardmen’s feelings were pretty well hidden from me, but still.

“What’s going on here...?” I wondered aloud.

What could be the point of bringing so many people together here so suddenly?

The presence of the students and the Japanese military suggested this had something to do with the movie shoot, but then why were the lizardmen involved? It seems like this was probably the first time they had even set foot on the castle grounds. Brooke informed me that they all appeared rather intimidated and more than a little confused. Lizardmen may be brave enough to face down a huge enemy without flinching, but an unfamiliar situation could still throw them off.

As I was ruminating on this, a knight shouted, “Announcing Her Majesty, ruler of the Holy Eldant Empire, Petralka an Eldant the Third! All present, attend!”

The courtyard, which had been buzzing with voices, immediately fell silent.

I looked to a gallery abutting the courtyard to see Petralka, accompanied by Garius, Zahar, and several knights, making her way slowly toward us. She advanced among people who stood with their heads bowed in submission, and mounted a podium that had been set up specially for this occasion. Then she produced a microphone from somewhere and said, “Our summons was somewhat abrupt. We thank you for responding.”

The way she spoke was so easy and natural—and yet it carried all the solemnity proper to an empress. I was reminded once again that the girl before me stood at the pinnacle of this nation’s power structure. If any normal girl her age had been dropped into a situation like this and told to give a speech, she would probably have frozen—or perhaps have come across as too agitated for the moment. Petralka, however, sounded perfectly composed.

“The smooth—or at least relatively problem-free—course of filming was thanks to all of your help. For this, we also extend our gratitude.”

A murmur started up again amongst the crowd. It was exceedingly rare for the empress to repeatedly offer her subjects her thanks like this.

“And now, in celebration of the successful completion of the Holy Eldant Empire’s first ‘moo-vee,’” Petralka said somberly, “we wish to hold a ‘view-wing par-tee.’”

“......What?” I said, caught totally off guard by this announcement.

But even as I and most of the other people in the courtyard tried to figure out what was what, a huge white sheet was lowered along one wall of the courtyard, like a projector screen. As far as I could tell, some of the castle maids on the terrace above were unrolling it.

The sheet had to be at least three meters tall and five meters wide. That ratio rang a faint bell with me. 16:9. The familiar dimensions of a high-definition broadcast or movie screen.

Meaning... Wait, really?!

As we stood there in shock, the maids wheeled out a projector on a cart and started setting it up.

“Let it be said,” Petralka added with a glance at the video equipment, “this is also being played simultaneously in several locations around town.”

“Say whaaaaat?!” I exclaimed in absolute, earnest amazement.

Where had Petralka even learned the expression “viewing party”? And the screen was one thing, but where had she gotten a projector? And the electricity to run it?

“...Hold on a second.”

It was at that point that it dawned on me: only someone connected to the Japanese government could have made this happen. But if the editing wasn’t finished, there wouldn’t have been anything to view at a viewing party. And that all added up to one thing...

“Minori-san?!”

“...Heh heh,” the WAC said, flashing me a “peace” sign and sounding more than a little pleased with herself.

“But why...?”

“Oh, you know... Don’t you want everyone to see it right away, before all the excitement cools down? I pulled an all-nighter to do the editing.”

“Y-Yeah, I figured. But what about this projection equipment?”

“Oh, I asked Matoba-san to handle it.”

“.........Oh.”

Now that I thought about it, Matoba-san had given me that wry smile when I mentioned the idea of a viewing party, which would mean that he already knew about Minori-san’s scheme (?) at the time. I don’t know whether he was specifically looking to surprise me or not, but that would sure teach me for not taking him seriously!

Finally, there was a collective gasp from the crowd. An image appeared on the sheet—I mean, the screen. Matoba-san had even gotten them speakers, because I heard sounds—heck, even music.

The first thing that showed up on-screen was the dragon. Not the real one defeated by the JSDF, of course, but our dwarf-made model. Dark clouds gathered in the sky behind it as it rose haltingly into the air, drawn up on wires.

Then the scene changed. Now we were on an idyllic hilltop. Zoom in to reveal a young man running desperately through the field.

Wait—that was me!

“Hrrgh,” I grunted involuntarily. It was not a pretty sound.

Yes, I’d known this was coming. I’d read the script and I knew that I appeared early on. But knowing it was one thing. Actually seeing it up there on-screen...?

What a weird way of running. I’m running really weird, aren’t I?!

And I know I’m supposed to look desperate, but do I look too desperate? I’m overacting, aren’t I?!

I stood there wishing I could summon a hole to crawl into, privately squirming under a difficult-to-describe edgy feeling.

“Master, you look so cool,” Myusel said from beside me.

“Hrrggaaahh...”

“Master?” She looked at me, her eyes wide.

Stop it! Just let this end! Make it stop! It’s just... super embarrassing somehow!

I somehow managed not to actually say any of this out loud, though, so other than Myusel, nobody noticed. Every other pair of eyes in the courtyard was on the big screen as a sweet, beautiful young woman appeared.

“Now I’ve got you... tee-hee!” the young-looking high school student announced, her face focused. I’m sure I don’t need to say that it was Petralka speaking.

“Oooh!” Impressed voices sounded all around the courtyard.

I guess all this would be surprising for people who had never seen a movie before. The empress was right there in the 2D world in front of them. Petralka and the students from the school might have been used to video images at this point, but to the students’ parents, the imperial knights, and the lizardmen, this was all new.

Incidentally, we made sure to have subtitles for all the dialogue. The magical rings only worked on conversations between two living people. I, for one, didn’t necessarily need the subtitles (I knew the script inside and out, after all, plus there were those lessons in the Eldant language from Myusel), but the members of the JSDF wouldn’t get what was being said. The subtitles were meant to help with that.

Not only that, but when Japanese soldiers appeared on-screen and spoke in their native language, I saw what appeared to be Eldant-language subtitles on screen. They looked hand-written; most likely, they had been scanned directly from Eduardo’s script. That had to be Minori-san’s doing (if you wanted to call it that) as well. Talk about your attention to detail. She was a woman of many talents.

“Look at that...”

“Wow...”

Truth be told, I wasn’t sure whether anyone not directly involved with the production effort actually understood the story or not. They were just completely overwhelmed by the first movie they had ever seen—the quantity of information, the realism of it.

But then...

“Arrrrgh,” I groaned, putting my head in my hands.

This was terrible.

What was terrible? The acting, specifically.

The dialogue, in particular. We couldn’t have looked more like a bunch of amateurs reading from a script if we had tried.

“Lookit! There I am!” I heard Elvia exclaim excitedly when she first appeared on-screen, but she grew progressively quieter over the next several minutes. She was probably experiencing what I had felt during that opening scene.

Myusel. Loek. Romilda. The JSDF soldiers. And everyone else who had acted in the movie: we all seemed to notice it. Other than the part that consisted of the leaked soccer clip, we all looked very, very strange. Just like we did now: some people looked at the ground; others even covered their ears. I wasn’t one to judge—I had practically turned around, unable to look directly at the screen.

Even Myusel, who had so kindly dubbed me “cool” when I first showed up, couldn’t stop fidgeting after the first scene where she appeared. It was too dark to be sure, but I suspected she was red up to her ears.

And finally...

“All who would threaten the peace of this beautiful land shall be opposed by the magical girl, Bel!”

“Gyaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!”

There came a scream loud enough to drown out even the main character’s punchy catchphrase.

“Turn it off! Stop it! Get rid of it! Destroy it! Somebody, do something!” the voice exclaimed in consternation, and a moment later, portable lanterns were being lit up all over the courtyard. The darkness retreated, until it got bright enough to look around the area relatively easily.

“Y-Your Majesty—Your Majesty, please, calm yourself...”

Prime Minister Zahar was trying frantically to talk down Petralka, who was attempting to smash the projector with a brick she had found somewhere. The old man had the empress’s arms pinned behind her back.

Petralka—you could tell even from a distance—was beet red.

If she was embarrassed, well, that was totally understandable. I myself thought I might die from shame, and here she was the absolute center of attention of the entire film. That entailed a whole different level of humiliation.

“St-Stop the other viewings in town as well, immediately!”

“Your Majesty, I’m begging you to calm down!”

Royal knights trooped up to help hold Petralka back, trying to placate her.

Maybe someone had gotten to the projector, because the image snapped off.

“Sometimes people say that you get so excited to be making something that the little flaws don’t bother you... until you have to see them in the cold light of a crowded theater,” I said, my voice tired. “I guess this is what they mean.”

“That’s life on the independent scene,” Minori-san said.

“Seal this thing away for all of history! That’s a royal command!” Petralka bellowed. Minori-san and I sighed in unison.

At any rate...

Several days later.

As usual, I went to the castle before school to make my report to the empress.

Also as usual, Myusel, Minori-san, and I were admitted to the audience chamber.

But...

“Petralka?”

When I looked up after offering my initial bow, I could only frown in confusion at what I saw.

The empress was sitting on her throne, looking hideously depressed and tired. She rested her arm on the armrest and her chin on her hand; her lips opened just enough to let out a lengthy sigh.

“What... What’s wrong?”

Was the country in some kind of trouble?!

My panicked thoughts were interrupted not by Petralka, but by Garius, who stood beside her. “As a matter of fact,” the knight said, “we’ve found ourselves in a rather... unexpected situation.”

“U-Unexpected? Situation?”

What could it possibly be? I swallowed nervously, and Garius went on, sounding tired.

“The movie, which was officially sealed away, is currently enjoying great popularity among the populace.”

“Come again...?”

“The dance, to be specific...”

“Er... You mean that thing where Petralka gets her groove on at the end?”

“That’s correct.” Garius nodded.

I knew we had shot such a scene, but with the viewing party interrupted halfway through, there shouldn’t have been anyone outside the production staff who knew about it.

As if to answer this exact question, Garius said, “It so happens that we were too late to stop the showings in town.”

“Oh, I... I see.”

“I’m sure you do. The film played all the way through there. What’s more, the abrupt nature of the showings meant many people missed the beginning of the movie. There was a near riot among those insisting that they be shown the start of the film.”

As Garius told it, although talk of the “otaku culture” so popular among the nobles had started to filter down to the common people, very few commoners had as yet had any chance to experience it for themselves. All they knew, essentially, was that the nobles were importing something from abroad and having a grand old time with it.

And then what should come along but the showing of our film?

To top it off, the actors were mostly people from the Holy Eldant Empire, so it was much easier to understand than the average otaku production, which often went over people’s heads. Since this was the first movie any of these people had ever seen, they didn’t have any sense that the acting was bad—instead, they embraced it wholeheartedly.

“Even a chance to see Her Majesty the Empress is unusual among the commoners,” Garius said, and at this point even he couldn’t suppress a sigh.

Notwithstanding certain dictatorships, in many kingdoms and other countries run by centralized political power, the ruler was a figure generally accorded absolute respect by their subjects. Hence, the people would be thrilled by any opportunity to see that ruler in person.

And if that ruler was as pretty and adorable as Petralka, and if that opportunity to see her involved her running and jumping and dancing and wearing moderately revealing clothing—well, who wouldn’t be on board?

“Granted the film was suppressed by imperial order, it would still not do to punish people who only wish to show reverence to their empress. Hence... ahem... showings have been going on nonstop for the past several days.”

“Grrrrrrr,” growled Petralka.

“Indeed, more than a few people have learned the dance in question and have begun performing it themselves.”

“Ah...”

I guess some things are the same in every country.

Personally, I felt a great affection for the people of the Holy Eldant Empire well up in my heart. Petralka, on the other hand, very much didn’t—for her, it was humiliation on a national scale. And because people were doing it out of respect for her, she couldn’t even punish them for it.

“Others are agitating for a sequel...” Garius said, his voice thick with irony.

“Absolutely not,” Petralka said softly.

As for me, though, when this conversation started, I had been convinced something terrible had happened. To find out that this was all she was upset about brought a smile of relief to my face. Even in the grip of total embarrassment, Petralka was somehow adorable.

“Well, hey, why not?”

A dancing, singing, idol of an empress. In my mind, I pictured Petralka at the center of a huge arena, wearing a sparkly dress, belting out a pop ballad into a microphone and snapping off dance moves as the audience watched. Yeah! I could go for that!

“You dog, Shinichi, you rat—!” Petralka stared daggers at me. “Was it not you who said we would never do another movie, anyway?”

“Well, uh, yeah, I guess.”

“And regardless, there are things we must attend to. Imperial duties.”

Petralka lifted her chin from her hand and leaned toward me. Gripping the armrests with both hands, she straightened her legs and frowned. I saw there the (loli) empress I knew: imposing, elegant, yet somehow impossible not to like. It was as if the girl who had thrown a tantrum about the end of filming didn’t exist.

“Speaking of which,” Petralka said. “What do you have to report to us today?”

“Er, right, uh, let’s see here...”

I thought over what I had prepared to talk about back at the mansion. The progress of classes at school, the amount and timing of new otaku goods that would be imported, the selection and translation of otaku stuff to be exported to other countries on this side of the wormhole—and on and on. As usual, I summarized all this for her. A detailed written report would be sent later.

“And that’s all I’ve got.”

“Mm.”

“......Well, I guess I’ll show myself out.”

“And none too soon. We also have a great deal of business awaiting us.”

Petralka’s tone was one of genuine annoyance—and yet, there was no dark note under her voice. I bowed, still smiling in relief, then exited the audience chamber with Myusel and Minori-san. I think she’s gonna be all right. Setting aside our collective distaste for the outcome of our efforts, actually filming the movie had been an excellent change of pace.

I was about to head off for school when I heard Garius behind me.

“Shinichi.”

This was unusual. He had followed us out of the audience chamber.

“Yes? Is something the matter?” Maybe there was something they forgot to tell me.

Garius stopped in front of me and the girls. After a moment he said, “I thank you.”

“Huh...?”

“Since the end of filming, Her Majesty has been visibly more engaged in her political duties. And she has not shown any sign of trying to run away. If anything, she is even more accepting of herself as empress than ever before.”

All I could think to say was, “Well, that’s what’s important.”

It had looked pretty close for a while there—I couldn’t exactly smirk and say “Told you so.” Not that I would have anyway.

“It’s thanks to what you said, Shinichi,” Garius told me, and for some reason he was suddenly clasping my hand.

“Oh, I don’t think...” I was smiling and trying to sound humble when my cheeks twitched with a peculiar thought.

Why are you holding my hand so tight? How can you be so relaxed with your face so close to mine? I prayed it was just my imagination that Minori-san, observing all this from close distance, appeared to be almost jumping for joy.

“It wasn’t really my idea,” I said with a pointed glance at Minori-san.

Garius let go of me and turned to her with a small nod. “Naturally, Minori Koganuma, you have my gratitude as well. Your words were surely the seed of this change.”

“I was only doing my duty as a servant of Her Majesty,” Minori-san said with a bow, her expression appropriately respectful. It was moments like this that I realized what a good fit she was for the JSDF.

But there was no question that she was also a very attractive woman.

“Well, then...”

“Indeed.”

We left without further interruption, Garius watching us go.

How do I put this? I know this whole thing started as a stab in the dark at cleaning up a leaked video. And I know it wasn’t easy. And I know a dragon showed up and almost killed us all. But as they say, all’s well that ends well.

“You’ve done good work, sir,” Myusel whispered from beside me, almost as if she could read my thoughts.

“Thanks,” I said. “I think so, too.” I gave a big yawn, but an even bigger smile.

（つづく）

To Be Continued...