CHAPTER 3

A Shot in the Dark

I’m home.” It was nearly twilight by the time I got back to camp. I put the spareribs wrapped in preservative leaves in the provisions tent and threw my equipment in mine.

“Welcome hooome.”

“Welcome home.”

I froze at the second voice. “What in the world—?”

A lantern stood on the ground next to Machina. It differed in some of the finer details but looked very similar to the one I’d hung around my waist. I picked it up and heard Isolla’s voice start coming out of it.

“While admittedly a violation of the AI Act, I deemed my services essential in your dungeon explorations and requested Machina separate some of our functions. From now on, please call me Isolla Pot.” So they’d made a miniature AI teapot disguised as a lantern of this world, huh?

“Is there no other way around the signal interference? I’m afraid you’ll break if I take you into the dungeon.” My radar probe had broken already, in just one day. I didn’t want to put even part of my irreplaceable AI support in harm’s way. The glasses device I had at least ten replacements of.

“I said separate, but my core still remains within Machina. Only during a breakdown in semi-quantum communication would my functions be duplicated and transferred to my pot to make it independent. As soon as the communication line reconnects, I would begin to synchronize and fuse my duplicate with the mainframe.”

“Sorry, I didn’t quite get that. Do you mean it’s not a problem if this pot itself breaks?”

“There would be no problem at all. In simpler terms, it’s as if I am having an out-of-body experience. We have twenty-three spare miniature teapots. We would run into trouble if you broke them easily, but I’ll leave that to your judgment.”

“Got it.” That hadn’t cleared all my doubts, but if they said it was okay, I decided I’d trust them. “That aside, what do I smell?” Tomato sauce. Did Machina make it? I wondered, but the terms of the treaty prohibited AI machines from autonomous operation. And I hadn’t done anything as risky as put them within arm’s reach of a fire source.

“Oh, you’re back. Supper is ready. Eat before it gets cold.”

“Huh?”

Lady Mythlanica hopped on top of Machina. “A goddess made this meal, Mr. Souya! I’m sure it’s full of blessings!”

“Seriously?” I had no idea milady could cook. A pot hung atop the primitive stove. I took off the lid and stirred the ladle. Inside was a simple tomato-paste soup consisting of mashed beans. I’d planned to have the spareribs, but I could let that age for a bit. “With great thanks, I will partake of this meal.” I brought a spoonful of the soup I’d ladled into a bowl to my mouth.

It had a rustic taste. A delicate garlic flavor complemented the perfect salt seasoning. Some cheese had probably been mixed in, giving the soup a rich creaminess. The crushed beans felt smooth in my mouth and didn’t overpower the soup. The flavor comforted my soul and gently filled the stomach and whetted the appetite. Was this what home-cooked meals were like here? The food served at the bar had tons of salt in it to push alcohol sales. On top of that, it was overwhelmingly oily, and the vegetables were all sour for some reason. Bold and messy, it had little color variation. They did serve pretty generous portion sizes, I’d give them that, but I was already tired of the flavors.

Humans need both salt and oils to function. Judging from the much more physically fit bodies I saw here, I could understand how they’d go through huge amounts of both. However, I was just a normal human. I’d do my heart in if I followed an adventurer’s diet.

“Lady Mythlanica, this is absolutely delicious.”

“That so? Today was your first day leaving the nest, after all. I thought I’d give you a taste of what I can do. Count yourself lucky if I ever do it again. You should thank me with every fiber of your being. Right, I’m off to sleep.”

“Y-yes, milady.” I raised my now-empty bowl above my head with both hands in gratitude. Her tail slipped into the tent. I had as many refills as the pot could offer, washed up, and prepared to sleep. Then an important detail hit me.

“Machina.”

“Yes, Mr. Souya?”

“Lady Mythlanica made this meal in her human form, didn’t she?”

“Yep. ♪”

I got close to Machina and whispered, “You recorded it, right?”

“Yep. ♪”

“Good, show—”

“Squad Member Souya, I have a private matter to discuss with you. Please take me some distance from here.”

“……”

At Isolla’s request, I picked up her mini pot and walked a little way from camp. The hour was late, and darkness had fallen over the entire meadow. Back at camp, the distant lights bobbed like a bonfire. It was an ancient night. Innumerable stars studded the heavens, and the ground, dark as the deepest reaches of the ocean, stretched on forever. Even the insects lowered their voices in awe of the breathtaking nighttime scenery.

“I have a proposal regarding your explorations going forward.”

“I see.” I’d been expecting this.

“I request you sever your covenant with Lady Mythlanica. At this point, you also have a relationship with Lady Glavius, the Night Owl. It appears the Minerva Sister goddesses do not command the most prestige among adventurers, but they are still a great deal more respectable than a goddess who conceals her adherents’ details.”

My scroll had come up blank. Of course, after I realized that, I’d gone to the Guild and asked Evetta to make me a new one. When that proved impossible, she passed the baton to the Guildmaster, but even he couldn’t do anything. No matter how many scrolls they tried, each one immediately turned into a blank page. After going through about thirty of them, the Guildmaster called out an elderly man with a long beard for help. He was apparently an expert on magical appraisals. According to him, the blank scrolls had to do with the goddess with whom I’d consecrated a covenant. Deception and secrecy—these two traits had strong ties to Lady Mythlanica’s godly nature. Their effects even extended to me, her disciple.

I did learn one good thing, though—only the details of my life up until I entered into the covenant with Lady Mythlanica would be hidden. Anything I learned or did afterward wouldn’t be affected…probably. Starting the next day, I planned to test out that possibility.

The other fortunate bit of news came from Arvin. He needed three days to refit his armor to make it more appropriate for use in the dungeon. Zenobia said that worked perfectly for her and told us she would use that time to brush up on some magic at a school in the city. Shuna and Bel apparently planned to shop around town for some extra equipment. We’d all agreed to meet up at the bar in three days.

To be frank, I had a serious problem. What kind of idiot would follow a leader who couldn’t prove his identity? Adventurers placed their lives in their party members’ hands. Trust was a must. Who the hell would agree to have faith in some dude without any real accomplishments to speak of and who kept his past secret?

“Is Machina on board with this?”

“No, she objected to my proposal. She has something akin to Japanese morals programmed into her core. It’s truly ludicrous.”

“I also—” I did agree with Isolla, but she cut me off before I could say anything.

“Consider the facts. Your party members are all incredibly talented. I base this evaluation on a meta-analysis of all the observational data I’ve collected. You balance one another out well, and none of you have any glaring personality defects or ideological conflicts. Furthermore, you have managed to gloss over your own impotence well. Continuing to explore the dungeon as their leader will undoubtedly provide the quickest route to achieving your goals. What did you come here to accomplish? You came to raise funds for your sister’s shur, shurge, surjur……for your sister’s operation, did you not?”

I couldn’t really say why, but hearing her stutter over that word sent everything I’d thought flying out the window.

“I didn’t stutter. I simply have not finished transferring my full functionality over to this vessel. Japanese is a tricky language, you know.”

“Sure.”

“It’s true. Please believe me.”

“Sure.”

“You have three days. Please mentally prepare yourself to sever your contract before that time is up. Do you understand me?”

“……Fine,” I half-heartedly responded just to answer. Even assuming she had no power, Lady Mythlanica had been the only god in this world to offer me her assistance. I couldn’t do a simple pros and cons analysis and cut her out of my life. I knew better than anyone that I didn’t have any breathing room or other options available to me. But that’s not what this was about. It just wasn’t like that.

“I didn’t hear you.”

“Fine. I’ll think it over.”

“Is that so? Well then, if you’ll excuse me.” Isolla fell silent.

I went back to camp, brushed my teeth, and wiped the sweat off my body with a damp towel. The complications that came up in the latter half of the day had almost made me forget, but I had finally gone down into the dungeon for the first time. It hadn’t moved me as much as I might’ve anticipated, given all the trouble I’d gone through to get to that point. More like, as soon as I solved one problem, another popped up in its place. Good grief.

Heart heavy, my body cried out for rest. I stepped into my tent to find Lady Mythlanica curled up in a ball on my pillow. Her Grace did almost nothing but lie in repose. I stretched out on the ground, careful not to wake her.

I couldn’t sleep. It seemed my heart of hearts was in greater turmoil than I’d thought. I tossed and turned a bit, then—

“What’s wrong? Lose your courage in the dungeon?” It appeared I’d woken Lady Mythlanica from her slumber.

“No, that’s not it, exactly,” I responded evasively.

“Good. There is not a soul that does not experience that dread. Those who fail to fear the unknown die quickly. Do not look this way.”

Why not? I wondered, but then an irresistible bare leg draped over my waist. Pale arms extended from behind me and wrapped around my neck. Warm breath brushed past my ear. A pair of humps pressed against my back. They felt terrifically supple and indescribably soft. My man the constable had told no lies. These had to be ravishing beauties.

“I’ll only do this today as a special treat. You should fall asleep with the warmth of another’s flesh in no time. However, turn this way, and I will curse you.”

“Actually, this will only make it harder to sleep.”

“Mrah.”

“Lady Mythlanica?”

Her breath grew quiet and even. I pinched her doughy arms and even trepidatiously slid my hand down her smooth thigh. No response. She must have fallen fast asleep. I had to stop. This was arousing all sorts of things in me.

I haven’t gotten any of that in a long time, or more like, ever, and when a man is tired, it’s even harder to— Wait, calm down. What did I come here for? To do what? What? Calm down, that’s what. Aren’t you—aren’t you supposed to recite the numbers in pi in this sort of situation? Okay, three. That’s all I remember. That’s not distracting me one bit. I feel like I’m about to fill this pie with something else. Again, what am I—? And then the tent flapped open.

Something rolled over and stopped in front of me. It was Isolla.

“Here, please use this. It’s a sedative. Inject yourself with it if you feel you have lost control of your emotions. Now is precisely that time.” The kettle’s arm presented me a needle-less syringe about the size of a ballpoint pen. I had a lot I wanted to call her out for, but for the moment, I thankfully took the syringe and injected it into my neck. It didn’t hurt much, but the strange sensation of a foreign substance running through my body had me trembling.

“Aren’t you guys forbidden from making autonomous decisions under the AI Act?”

“This was no autonomous act. I simply happened to fall and roll over here, rest assured. I can put myself back.”

That was exactly what you’d call autonomous. So AI robots could disregard the terms of the treaty this easily, huh? Was it just me, or did this look like a fatal flaw?

“In my country, we have a saying that goes, ‘Don’t tell anyone at trial about our relations.’ You understand what I’m trying to say, don’t you?”

“Nope, not a clue.”

“It’s a lesson about how even a man with incredible resources and a vast network of personal connections, one who had earned approval from a majority of his people, who was entrusted with the highest mission and responsibilities of the greatest country on earth, and swore to love his wife before God, fell victim to his carnal desires.”

“Okay.” I decided not to ask any more about it. It felt like I’d see more of the darkness in her heart than I cared to. “By the way, Isolla.”

“Yes?”

“When will this medicine kick in?”

“In two seconds.”

I passed out.

[8TH DAY]

The situation was all too simple. By adventurer standards, I just didn’t have enough physical strength—not even close. I’d be hard put to cut even a chocho down with a longsword. You used completely different muscles to shoot a gun and to slash a sword, and I didn’t have the time to build that kind of strength now. That being the case, I had limited choices in terms of the weapons I could use.

“Hey, shopkeeper.”

“EEYYAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!”

I’d dropped by the main store of the Zavah Night Owl Trade Group to get something new to defend myself.

“Show me a few weapons.”

“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!” The shopkeeper’s knees buckled, and he scuttled back away from me. The relatively big store had about thirty people inside, staff included. Every single one of them stared at me.

Argh, now even more people are gonna gossip about me.

“I’m just here today to get a—”

“EAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

“So you want me to go to the Ellomere Traders.”

“Pardon me, I was a little flustered. What may I help you with today?” He immediately snapped out of it and straightened himself out. I’d started to get the hang of how to deal with him.

“I’d like to see a crossbow. Do you have any in stock?”

“A crossbow, you say? We do indeed. Please, right this way.” He had the crossbows all lined up in a corner of the shop, in what one might call a dead space. “It’s not our most popular product among adventurers, you see. That is not to say, however, that we carry anything but the best quality.” I saw about twenty different varieties, each using slightly varying designs or created with different materials, all of them following the same basic construction.

“May I?” I asked.

“Please, be my guest.”

I picked up one of the crossbows and pulled the string back to allay my biggest concern. “Ngh, nghh, ungh!” I pulled with all my might, but the string wouldn’t budge.

“Master Souya, you’re meant to secure this with your foot and pull back with your legs,” he explained.

“I see.” The crossbow had a metal stirrup at the very front end of the stock. I stuck my foot in it and used my legs to pull—hard! “Grr, grah!” I couldn’t do it. “You sure this isn’t defective?”

“I do believe we’ve kept it properly maintained.”

I handed the crossbow to the shopkeeper. He put his foot in the stirrup and attempted to pull the string back, too, but failed as well. We tried two more the same way with the same result. We even tried pulling the string together, but it didn’t move an inch.

“Oaffet, Oaffet, you back there?” he yelled out to someone. An almost two-meter-tall beastman answered his call. His friendly face, droopy ears, and wagging tail felt out of sync with his enormous body. He was a dog, definitely a Saint Bernard. “Try pulling this back,” the shopkeeper ordered.

“Yah.” He put both hands on the string and drew it back with ease until it latched into the slot connected to the trigger. “You adventurer?” he asked me.

“Who, me? Yeah, sure am.”

“Come now, Oaffet. He’s a customer,” the merchant scolded him. I ignored him and listened to the rest of what the beastman had to say.

“This one, no good for bring down monster. Bad aim for small ones, won’t go through big ones, next shot too slow.”

“I see.” So it wasn’t very accurate, huh? But I mean, I couldn’t even load it properly.

“Plus, expensive. Breaks easy. Much money to fix. Bolts expensive. Lotsa money, but easy to lose. If expensive okay, bow is better.” Checking the tag, I saw the number fifteen next to the character for gold piece. That was a lot of money. “Bows too bulky in dungeon. But good bow stands out. You can brag other adventurers. Brag important. Adventurer with no pride forgot easy.”

“Are you an adventurer, too?” I asked him.

“Yes. But now, I guard boss.”

Hmm, prestige, huh? I’ve never even considered that aspect. Maybe it’s not as simple as defeating monsters and descending farther down.

“Then could you show me some bows?”

“Yah.”

“Master Souya, he’s merely a bodyguard, not a clerk,” protested the merchant.

“It’s fine, it’s fine.” It might sound obvious, but it was better to ask someone in the same line of work about these kinds of things. The merchants here only tried to push whatever they wanted to sell, so I couldn’t trust them, especially when they had no idea what they were talking about.

We moved over to the bow area. It boasted a large selection with a wide range of sizes to fit customers from a variety of races. Their materials differed, but all the bows basically looked like a sideways V and had their corresponding bowstrings wrapped around them.

“Truth is, real archers, make own bow. No buy. Store bows rip-off. But this one not bad.” The bow Oaffet picked up loosely resembled an Ω. Small but thick, it had been made of at least three different kinds of wood. “This elf bow. Even beastman strength no break. Bendy. Even heim can use.”

Oaffet affixed the string to the bow and drew it. The bow’s materials creaked slightly as it bent. He handed it over to me, and I tried it out. Not bad. I could imagine myself fitting an arrow and pulling it back. The bow cost five gold. Others cost around nine silver on average, making this considerably more expensive.

“I’ll take it. Also, choose some arrows for me, please.”

“Yah. Cheap arrows no good. Metal arrowhead, arrow shaft good. Pick up and use again. Heavy ones good. Recommend this cui arrow. Also, buy gusta ore arrowheads and domer copper shafts. For arrow feathers, use flying rabbit ones. They fly round meadow in evening. And you need bowstring?”

“This bowstring, it’s twine, right?” I had something that would give me even more elasticity.

“Yah.”

“Then I’m okay. So I’ll take twenty arrows and twenty each of the arrowheads and shafts. Shopkeeper, ring me up, please.”

“Of course. All together that comes to eight gold and five silver pieces. I’ll throw in a quiver for free.” I handed him the money.

“I’ll carry the bow as is. Could you wrap everything else and put it in the quiver?”

“As you wish. Just a moment, please.” The shopkeeper disappeared into the back room.

“So, Oaffet. I’ve got a question for you.” I slipped him five copper pieces for the tip.

“Yah.”

“I’m looking for a master archer who could give me a crash course. Know anyone?”

“You no can use arrow? Why buy?”

“There’s a very complicated and bizarre reason for that.”

“I see, good luck.” He slapped me on the back. “I know one great, not busy archer.”

Tip from my more experienced fellow adventurer in hand, I went on the hunt for an archery teacher. Apparently, he could often be found hanging about the city walls in the afternoons. Helpful, except that covered a huge amount of ground.

“Shall I guide you from above?” asked Machina.

“No, I’ll walk about and look for him for a bit.”

“Understood.”

Ever since the dustup with the degenerate adventurers, I’d stopped relying on my AI companions for everything. I trusted Machina and Isolla, but I hated the thought of getting so dependent on them that I would be unable to fend for myself in an emergency. My mental fortitude and my strength were my last lines of defense. If I didn’t train both every day, they would atrophy and do me no good.

Lines upon lines of white sheets hung out to dry along the water canal that ran close by the walls to the city. The fluttering white fabric reminded me of a hospital rooftop.

Oh, this is how I felt when Gramps died.

I’d cried with worry back then over what we were going to do without him. It felt laughable, thinking back on it now. Humans could live anywhere if they set their minds on it. Once I put my body to work, I didn’t even have time to worry anymore. What’s more, I stopped caring at all about what other people thought or felt. Nothing mattered but putting food on the table and saving money. But even so, I never considered my lifestyle deplorable.

I just want a reason to die. I want the sense of purpose that makes you forget time and the instinct to survive, one you’d risk your life for. Something that transpires in the tiniest of seconds and ends in a flash. So far, I haven’t found anything that absorbing in my life. Without it, I’ve just been existing. And I don’t expect to find it going forward, either. Nothing is going to change that, not even this world where power hinges on glory and honor. More like, I won’t change it. Better yet, I can’t. What exactly am I trying to do?

“Hey, you! Young man!”

“Huh?” I answered, completely zoned out, the dumbest look on my face. About six middle-aged ladies were washing their laundry close by. One of them waved at me to come over. I got closer and then—

“Wait, is that a dead body?”

“You, grab his legs, would you? He’s far too heavy for us; we can’t do it alone.”

—I saw the back of what seemed to be a particularly shaggy man (?) floating in the water. I figured he must be a beastman, though I’d never seen one with such a thick coat of fur. But, well, I didn’t want him contaminating the water supply, so I grabbed hold of his legs. The ladies and I heaved and hoed in unison and lifted him up to the road. He weighed a shit ton and was enormous, even bigger than my newest pal Oaffet. He’d easily stand at least two and a half meters tall.

And he had a beastman’s head. It looked like a wolf to me, with a long tongue and sharp canines peeking out of his snout. I thought I’d seen a pretty varied assortment of beastfolk since I came to this world, but none of them had as much beast in them as this guy. The memories that stayed with me were almost exclusively those of women, who all had beast-like qualities around their ears, eyes, and noses, maybe a tail, and fur on about 10 or 20 percent of their skin. Even those with relatively more fur had it only in patches on their arms, legs, and a part of their neck at most. This was my first time seeing an almost entirely beast person. He was basically a wolf walking on two legs.

“Lord Baafre, Lord Baafre! I can’t believe you’re sleeping out here again! Would you please cease this nonsense? Your fur is going to get in our laundry!” The woman tugged at the beastman’s face. Hold on, he’s alive? After she gave him about five hardcore slaps on the face, the wolf-headed man opened his eyes.

“Ugh, good nap.” He sluggishly got to his feet, then shook his body like a dog to dry off. A deluge of water splashed all over me.

“Lord Baafre, I beg of you, at least sleep on the floor next time.”

“Mm-hmm, forgive me.”

“Is this man some sort of god?” I asked the woman, who looked at me with pity.

“Oh-ho, you there. Have you not heard tell of the great hero of the north, Baafre Heijin the lycan?!” asked the wolfman. “No worry, I’ll tell you the whole grand tale for a drink of cheap liquor. There happens to be a shop where I left some things just down over there. Come!”

“Huh?”

Before I could run off, he grabbed my arm and pulled me to an alfresco café-type bar. Though alfresco was just my way of putting a nice spin on it. In truth, the café constituted nothing more than a few simple tables and chairs arranged around a space with no roof. It looked like all the cooking happened in a shanty toward the back. Did this even count as a restaurant?

Lord Baafre sat down at a table topped with all kinds of junk, then forced me to take a seat, too. “Heeey, Tutu. Beer! And a drink on the side!” What’s with that order? It’s like asking for rice with a side of rice.

“Lord Baafre, I’d be meow than happy to serve you a drink. But you’ve got a big tab already.” A cat beastmaid came out from the shanty wearing an apron over what basically amounted to panties and a bra. She had a lithe feline frame, long, wavy blond hair, and pointed ears. Her tail looked a bit like a besom broom.

Wait, she looks familiar. Well, she is a beastmaid, and it’s hard to differentiate between people of another race.

“This young gent right here will handle the bill.”

“I was afraid of that.”

“Oh! You’re that generous new adventurer from yesterday!”

“Yesterday? Oh!” She’d been our waitress at the boss’s bar. My body burned a bit as I remembered the kiss she’d given me.

“What’s this? Did you come all the way out here looking for little old mee-ow?” she asked, sinuously curving her body and looking not altogether displeased. I mention this for posterity, but I was even less displeased. I just didn’t show it.

“I helped drag this gentleman out of the river and then for some reason wound up responsible for his bar tab,” I told her.

“That’s terrible. Guess you’re not the one for me, meow.”

“No waaay.”

Tutu disappeared into the shanty and came back carrying bottles of ale. “Also, you pay up front here. Nine copper pieces. Only Lord Baafre gets to keep an open tab,” she explained.

I didn’t want to trouble her haggling over the cost, so I paid up. My head started hurting when I tallied up the total expenses of my outing for the day. I didn’t even want to think about how much more the archery lessons would put me back.

“Come now, Tutu. For all your talk about this tab, you still keep my weapons as leverage.”

“These stinky, bony old pieces of crap! I had a merchant appraise them for me, but it didn’t work! I wasted the appraisal fee for nothing! Mrow!” Tutu kicked a large sack by her feet, and it made a loud clang.

“Bah-ha-ha-ha! No tricksy little merchant has what it takes to appreciate my weapons’ true value. Nor can any ordinary person wield them. A lycan’s weapons are—”

“Nothing but garbage. They’re always in my way—I’m gonna toss ’em, I’ll show you!” She kicked the sack again. A sword, spear, ax, bow, and shield, all clearly old, tumbled out.

“Will you desist? I swear to you I shall pay off my tab after my next expedition, all right? See? So please, don’t stomp on your dear friend’s keepsakes,” he pleaded, pretty much as shamelessly as my goddess. “More importantly, you. Those are some rather curious clothes on you. I’ve never seen this type of material.” He turned the topic over to me and unabashedly grabbed on to my poncho.

“I think I heard ’em say he’s an Otherworlder,” Tutu chimed in. They both sniffed me up and down. I had absolutely no idea how to react.

“I see; you don’t say. No wonder he looked so befuddled, even after laying eyes on my heroic visage. Now then, as promised, I shall regale you with the legend of us mighty lycans.” The wolf-headed man took a bottle of booze in his hand and drank it down in one gulp. Then, fueled by the cheap ale, he began to tell the legend of the moon and the wolves.

Our story takes place far, far north of here, beyond the farthest reaches of the Right Continent. There, a city of great wealth called Neomia once stood. Blessed with fertile lands and favorable weather and protected by mountains and precipitous cliffs, the city sustained no foreign invasions for many years. Moreover, boons of their king’s wisdom reached far and wide. By any measure, they had reached the very peak of prosperity.

And yet, as the Great Pyromancer Robbe proclaimed, “All flames will surely fade.” Neomia’s downfall began with a snowfall in spring. For one year, then two, the winter did not abate; snow and ice quietly claimed life after life. The spring of the fifth year came, and yet the snow continued to fall.

Plagued by his people’s famine and resentment, the king lost sight of the wisdom he once commanded. The country’s sullen nobles admonished the king, who then invoked the name of a god of a false creed who had been sealed away. The king of the beasts had vanquished this god and stolen their name. It was the god of vampires.

The king received the dark god’s favor. His people froze and starved. Declaring it a rescue mission, the king devoured every last one of them, and those who “survived” this feast then turned to dine on others still alive. Every life in the city was extinguished in the span of one night. Only voracious vampires and their kin, the nobles of ice, remained. Neomia became a city of death and fell to ruin.

However, those who took up residence in the mountains survived. They were the Endguard, warriors bound by an ancient oath to protect Neomia from foreign attack, and they took up their arms for it. The city had perished, and their king was no longer the man he had been. Their proud nobles had also vanished, along with the citizens, of course. Nevertheless, the warriors fought for Neomia and her honor, to ensure the vile, bloodsucking beasts would not escape from the cage of the dead city.

Valiantly they fought; over and over they suffered defeat. Even honor tarnishes once sullied by the debased blood of beasts. The warriors turned their blades against friends, against family.

In the eighth year of winter, on a night of two full moons, the warriors reached their end. A horde of vampires closed in on their last stronghold. Nine warriors remained—only nine. Nonetheless, these nine had refined their martial prowess over hundreds of battles. They laughed in the face of death, for to die laughing was the pride of a warrior.

Just then, a woman who called herself the Goddess of the Moon appeared before them. Although she was beautiful, they say her silhouette was as shadowy as the dark side of the moon. The goddess extolled the warriors before her.

“O brave heroes, the most valiant in all the world. You shall all perish this night. None shall see the light of day. In this, your final hour, have you any wishes?”

Caught unawares by a question so ill fit for their current state, the warriors forgot she was a goddess and laughed. An elder warrior responded, stating, “We shall fight to the death and die in the fight. You yourself have promised we shall attain this, our long-cherished desire. What more could there be for us to wish?”

The goddess asked once more, “Are you sure there is nothing? Do you truly have no desires but to fight?”

An unassuming, young warrior said, “I want to crush them all.” According to the pride of the Endguard, that was a foolish wish. They fought to protect, and if their enemy should flee, they did not give chase. They laughed and toasted to the cowards who clung so to their lives. That had been their way for generations. Thus, for a proper Endguard warrior, his would have been a laughable wish. He would have endured severe beatings for many years for speaking such nonsense.

And yet, not a single person laughed. Should they adhere to the code their ancestors had protected throughout the ages, they would gain naught but personal glory. It would be honorable but meaningless. Yet, should they unleash the vampires from this city, death would reach across the Great Land. Those beasts were rats carrying a cursed disease. Allowing them to roam far and wide would bring dishonor upon Neomia, City of Wealth. No one would remember its prosperity of old. It would go down in history as a city of ice and death.

The warriors had died one by one to prevent that from happening. They had died laughing. But on that night, would all their sacrifice be in vain?

“This is your wish?” The warriors all answered the goddess with silence. “O warriors bound to perish, guardians of the end. Your wish shall surely bring dishonor upon your blades, drain your human blood, and send you into a nightmare from which you shall never awaken. If, in spite of all I have said, this be your wish, answer me with silence.”

The warriors answered her with silence.

“I am the Goddess of the Cruel Moon, she who will share with you the blood of the abominable. Receive this blessing from the demon who descended upon you, and with it, demolish and vanquish those who sought the graces of their devil.”

A strange mutation overcame the warriors. Their arms and legs thickened ever more, and beastly fur covered their bodies; their mouths rent apart and bore fangs; their pupils widened beneath the moonlight. Their nails grew as sharp as their weapons, their muscles thicker than steal, and their voices—

“Come, my beastly brethren. Let us begin the hunt.”

—rang long into the night, echoing off the walls of Neomia, the City of Death. And so began the night of the bloodstained lycans.

“After that, well, we bashed the vampires to a pulp and protected the peace of the entire Right Continent. How about that? Spine-tingling, no? Worth the price of a drink, wouldn’t you say?” Maybe, but there are already five empty bottles rolling around on the table.

“Wellll, I’d take that all with a big pinch of salt,” said Tutu, relaxing with her chin rested atop the jolly wolfman’s head.

“No, no, it is naught but the truth. I have not spoken a single lie.”

“Lord Baafre, I’ll admit you are a very talented adventurer, regardless of how terrible you are at making any money.”

“Ohhh, are you an adventurer?” So he was my senior. I needed to show him the proper respect, for what it was worth.

“Mm-hmm. However, I am currently under suspension!”

Wait. You can be suspended from exploring the dungeon?

“An unfamiliar adventurer took me for a monster and attacked me. He simply would not relent, so I whacked him ever so softly, but it gave him a light wound that knocked him out cold for about ten days. The Guildmaster really let me have it. Even Remlia scolded me, too. No one had yelled at me like that in fifty years—they almost had me in tears, you know?! Ba-ha-ha-ha-ha!” Tutu petted his head to console the wolfman, who showed none of the dignity of a man who had supposedly saved this continent.

“So, umm, Lord Baafre? There were nine of you, right? The lycans. Do the rest of them also work as adventurers here?”

“No, they perished. Half of them sacrificed themselves to defeat the king of the vampires. The other half I slayed with my own two hands.”

“Huh?” The story took a very sudden, very bloody turn. Scratch that, I also got the feeling it had been pretty gory from the start.

“They had been cursed, after all. Some went crazy with pleasure and lost their minds. Sadly, our pride as warriors died that night. They went wild for blood—not to drink it but to see it. In other words, they became no better than the vampires.” Lord Baafre polished off the sixth bottle and offered me some encouraging advice. “Foreign adventurer, let me tell you one thing. ‘The works of the gods in this realm always come drenched in irony.’ Do not rely on the easy way out, unless you want to end up like us.”

“Good point. I would hate to wind up as someone who gets dead drunk off the booze they made a new adventurer treat them to.”

“Well, look at the mouth on you.”

I handed the seventh empty bottle to Tutu and got up from my seat. “But it was a pretty interesting story. Thank you for sharing it with me.” I wasn’t sure if it was worth twenty-one copper pieces, though.

“Speaking of, what were you doing out here to begin with?” he asked. “There aren’t any decent restaurants or inns in this corner of town. If it’s a lady you fancy, you could’ve easily found some heims closer to the front gates.”

“No decent restaurants around, you say, mrow?”

“Gah!” Tutu started strangling Lord Baafre from behind. Seeing them get along so well made me jealous.

He had a point. I’d totally forgotten. “I came to look for a master archer I heard hung around here.”

“Oh, I know just the one.” Lord Baafre shook a beer bottle in the air. Judging by the sound it made, he’d probably already emptied half of it. In the end, I paid twenty-four copper coins and learned where to find the master archer.

“You come back soon, meow!”

“And buy me some more driiinks!”

I waved to them both and left. Somehow, I felt a bit cheated.

Farther down along the canal, I turned into a dim back alley. Deeper and deeper into the darkness I headed, down the path’s intricate twists and turns. The vibe here felt much like the dungeon. It had a whiff of danger, too. I kept a mildly watchful eye out as I went.

All of a sudden, a small whirlwind of a group crossed my path—a gaggle of beastfolk and elven kids. They raced down the alleys, having a blast. Children had a way of breaking open little holes between interspecific barriers and slipping right through them.

I came upon a woman practicing magic. In the corners of the light she emitted, I saw a mysteriously profound shadow. I sensed a small but terrifying presence lurking in the depths where her light could not reach, a glimpse of a quiet illusion.

At last, I found the small bridge I was after. Had it been overlooked during the development of the area? The bridge had character that set it apart from the rest of the buildings, which looked newer. Though small, it seemed sturdy. Beneath this bridge I would find my target, or so I’d heard.

They cut a striking figure. Like two sisters from a fairy tale, they sat snuggled up next to each other. I got the sense they looked a bit dingier than the last time I’d seen them, not that something so trifling could manage to tarnish their beauty.

“Excuse me.” Still a short distance away, I got down on one knee, then put my left hand on my right shoulder and my right hand flat on the ground. A flash of recognition came over the elder sister as she looked at me. She was a lovely young lady, a bit petite for an elf, with long, blond hair and ears that drooped just a little. Her curvaceous frame seemed at odds with her cute demeanor. Her arms wrapped around a tall staff.

“You saved me the other day,” I told her. “Thanks to you, I managed to keep my arm.”

The younger sister roused from her sleep with a grunt and trained her bow on me in a fraction of a second. I hadn’t even seen her fix the arrow to the string. This sister was a terrifying beauty. A tall, lean blond, she perfectly aligned with the classic image of an elf. For some reason, she had on a rather revealing outfit a young beastmaid might wear, composed of skintight mini-shorts and a sports bra. A gauntlet on her right arm caught my eye. It had an elaborate design made of thin gold and a mysterious, alluring draw.

“Ah! You’re the heim who almost died the other day, right?!”

“Stop this, Éa,” admonished the elder sister, and the younger elf lowered her bow. By some strange coincidence, these very same elves had previously come to my rescue. No way, I’d thought when Baafre first described them to me, but that’s who it was.

“You were far too generous with your thanks for the directions I gave you. I followed after you to return it, and the constable asked me to heal your wounds,” explained the elder sister.

“You’d better be grateful,” spat Éa.

“I am hugely grateful.”

“I’m so glad to see you. After thinking it over later, I came to the conclusion that even taking the treatment into consideration, the token you gave us was still much too lavish. We did use a portion of it, but I’d like to return the rest.”

“Whaaat?!” the younger sister exclaimed. The elder sister opened her wallet, and I couldn’t help but peek inside.

“No, I don’t need the money. According to custom in my country, having a gift returned to you brings bad fortune.” You could probably find someone who believed that, if you searched through all of Japan.

“I see…… Then I suppose I have no choice.” A wave of relief passed over me as she accepted my reasoning. It would wound my pride as a man to take any of the coins from her already very empty purse.

“I am Souya of Japan, an adventurer from another world. Please allow me to thank you once more, lady elf. Oh, please stay as you are. I’ve interrupted your rest. There’s no need to trouble yourself.” The elder elf started to get up, but I stopped her. This was just my impression, but this woman gave off a noble air, a sense of refinement worthy of respect.

“Thank you for your kind consideration. My name is Laualliuna Raua Heuress, an adventurer like yourself. This is my younger sister, Éa. Come on, introduce yourself.”

“Why? He’s just a heim.”

“You’re going to make me angry,” Ms. Laualliuna growled. Nothing about her was scary. Grudgingly, her younger sister greeted me, too.

“I’m Éa Raua Heuress. Hmph, just try getting all chummy and I’ll put an arrow through your forehead.”

I felt it about time to get down to business. “I’m looking for an archery instructor. An experienced adventurer told me great things about you two. If you are not currently occupied, would you please consider it? Of course, I will compensate you for the favor.”

“No. Way. In. Hell. You wouldn’t catch me dead teaching a heim how to shoot. Especially not one who dares to carry an elven bow. Where’d you get that? Don’t tell me you pried it off a corpse? And now you want to steal our techniques, too?”

“Éa, hold your tongue.”

“But, Lala! He’s—!” Heated, Éa got to her feet—and immediately collapsed.

“Éa?!”

I instinctively reached out and caught her. She hung limply in my arms, unconscious. Her breathing was short, her face deathly pale, and beads of sweat formed on her brow.

“Blegh.”

And then she threw up on my poncho. It smelled bitter. Éa choked and coughed but still did not regain consciousness. This looked really bad.

“Ah, um, I’m so sorry,” Laualliuna apologized in a fret.

“It’s okay,” I assured her. “I’ve seen this before, trust me.” Turning Éa on her side and using my fingers to keep her airway open, I helped her expunge everything from her system until she calmed down, slapping her on the back with my clean hand. Her breath immediately stabilized. I poured a bit of water from my bottle over her mouth to lightly rinse it off. There didn’t seem to be anything left inside.

Is she hungover? I can’t smell any alcohol, though. In that case, is this some chronic illness? No, what if…?

“Machina, is there any risk she has an infectious disease?”

“I cannot completely deny the possibility. Please submit her excreta and blood for analysis as soon as possible.” Éa remained unconscious, but she’d calmed down.

“Pardon the question, but is your sister—?”

“She’s not ill. She suffers due to an injury, though the manager of the inn misunderstood and asked us to leave.”

“I see.” That was a relief, at least. We waited for a few minutes, but Éa showed no signs of waking, so I slipped my arms underneath her legs and back and lifted her up. Unconscious people were supposed to be very heavy, but she weighed less than a feather. Was she getting enough to eat?

“It’s a bit far from here, but let’s go back to my camp. At least you’ll be protected from the wind there. I imagine it’s difficult to trust me so easily, so please hold on to this,” I offered, handing Laualliuna my wallet. “It’s got almost all the money I have. Feel free to run off with it if you deem me untrustworthy.”

“I can’t accept that. It’s far too cheap a ransom for my sister’s life.”