Grimgal of Ashes and Illusion - Volume 17 - Chapter 6

6. What the Warriors Left Behind

Having reached the end of the dining hall, sad to say, the group had to stop and take a rest.

Mimorin sat and looked at Haruhiro imploringly, with her legs folded under her and her knees sticking forward.

“She telling you to use those knees as pillow, yeah! You pig shit!” Anna-san shouted at him, but, no, he was going to have to pass. Haruhiro sat with his back against the wall, steadying his breath.

“...You okay?”

If he had Kuzaku worrying about him, it was already over. Okay, maybe he wasn’t completely finished. Rather, when Kuzaku, who gave off incredible little-brother energy, started worrying about him, he couldn’t help but be uneasy.

“It’s fine. I’m better now,” Haruhiro said, rising.

“Hah! Like hell you are!” Ranta wasted no time being toxic. “If you’re exhausted after that, we’re never gonna make it through this. The only thing you’ve ever been good at is putting up a strong front. If you aren’t fine, you still better pretend, you moron.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Don’t just brush me off!”

“What am I supposed to do...?”

What a pain in the ass. I wish he’d get lost. I don’t want the guy completely eliminated, but it’d be nice if he went far, far away every once in a while.

“Ranta’s always sayin’ heartful things like that...” Yume crossed her arms and sighed. “It never, ever stops, y’know?”

“People don’t change that easily,” Kuzaku said with a chuckle. “I mean, it just shows you, Ranta-kun’s never grown.”

“The hell, man?! Don’t get full of yourself just because you’re a little taller than me, you shithead!”

“Nah, I know I say this every time, but it’s not ‘a little.’ I’m a lot taller than you.”

“You still haven’t learned not to brag about your height?!”

“It’s a boney feed fact, y’know,” Yume interjected, making Ranta even madder.

“You mean bona fide! Oh, and it’s hurtful, not heartful! You made the same mistake a long time ago, just saying! You’re the one who hasn’t grown!”

“Yume has grown too!”

“Where?!”

“Yume’s not gonna say exactly where, but here and there!”

“That’s pretty vague! Wait, here and there...”

Ranta shifted his mask aside, and looked Yume up and down. Repeatedly.

“W-Well...maybe you have...? There are some places I guess I can’t for sure say you haven’t. I dunno, it’s not impossible...”

“See?” Yume thrust her chest out with pride.

“Where are you staring?” Merry muttered with a scowl.

“O-Oh, fuck off!” Ranta’s face was bright red. He hurriedly put his mask back on. “I can look where I want! I wasn’t trying to see anything she’s hiding! You’ve got nothing to charge me with!”

“Whoa, look at him try to defend it...”

“Shut up, Kuzaku! Get on your knees! I’ll kill you!”

“Tell me...” Setora pressed the tip of her spear directly against Inui’s throat. “Do I need to stab you before you’ll stop that?”

“Heh!” Inui opened his uncovered right eye wide before grasping the spear’s tip with his bare hands.

“Do it, if you can! Do it! I want it!”

Setora hesitated. “May I really?” She seemed perplexed for once.

“Sure, why not?” Tokimune flashed his pearly whites.

Wait, it’s okay?

“Yeah, do it.” Tada seemed fed-up. He might just not have cared anymore.

“Whew, that’s intense, Inuin! Burning love! Love, love, love! You’re making me want to fall in love too!” Kikkawa was writhing.

“Inui is sexual deviant who can’t pull his skin back, yeah,” Anna-san interjected with a completely unrelated insult.

“Inui is a true...” Mimorin began to speak, then for some reason, perhaps realizing she was about to reveal some truth that no person ought to know, she covered her mouth. But what was it? Well, not like it mattered.

This is utter chaos.

“Moving on.” Kimura’s glasses flashed. He repeatedly made his lenses glare as he repeated those words. In a way, he was as bad as Ranta and even more annoying.

“Tokimune-san,” Haruhiro prompted. Tokimune nodded.

“Yeah, all right. We should get going...”

The end of the dining hall was not a dead end. There were doors. Two of them, on opposite ends of the stone wall, made of a material which they still couldn’t tell whether it was metal or stone. Each door had a depression in the shape of five overlapping circles in the center of it. Haruhiro stood in front of the door on the right, while Tokimune stood at the door on the left.

“Okay...”

They nodded to one another, and then each pressed the depression in his own door. The doors creaked in unison and started to open, seemingly folding into themselves and the wall.

“Looks like we get the chapel.”

Haruhiro’s party would continue down the right-hand route.

“And we have the kitchen, huh?”

The Tokkis would go left.

Once Haruhiro’s party opened the door on the far side of the chapel, and the Tokkis opened the door in the kitchen, the synchronized unlocking would be complete, and they would meet up in the inner courtyard.

“As for me...”

What was Kimura going to do?

“We-hoh!”

With that weird laugh, he walked over to Haruhiro and the others in front of the right-hand door.

“You don’t need to come with us, you know? I mean, you probably fit in better with them. Go over there.” Ranta made a gesture like he was shooing away a fly.

Kimura abruptly laughed. “Zwe-hah!”

“Eek!”

Ranta wasn’t the only one who was frightened. Kuzaku, Merry, and Yume all jumped a little too. Setora gave him a mystified look, as if she were thinking, Is this man insane? What is going on in that head of his?

Haruhiro felt about the same as she did.

“...Kimura-san.”

“What is it, Haruhirorororong. Rororororong. Rororong. Rong.”

“...You know what? Never mind.”

They said this guy was close to Shinohara. How much did he know about Shinohara’s intentions?

If, as Haruhiro suspected, Shinohara was connected to the master of the Forbidden Tower, was Kimura aware of that fact? If Shinohara was plotting something, was Kimura in on the conspiracy?

What about the other members of Orion? Like Hayashi, for instance.

Hayashi was Merry’s comrade. If they were going to investigate Orion, he was their way in.

But Hayashi hadn’t joined the detached force. He was one of the thirteen members of Orion assigned to the main assault force on Mount Grief. Shinohara had entrusted him with leading that group.

If Kimura was so close to Shinohara, wouldn’t it have been natural for him to lead the main force? But Shinohara had chosen to have Kimura join the detached force instead. Did that show how much he trusted him? Were they so close that Shinohara wanted him by his side at all times?

What if they were so close that you could say they were practically the same person?

Haruhiro and Renji had decided it was worthwhile to keep an eye on Shinohara. Kimura would need to be treated the same way. They would also need to consider the possibility that every member of Orion was under Shinohara’s control.

However, it was possible that Shinohara hadn’t disclosed his intentions even to Kimura, his closest friend. Taking it to the most extreme conclusion, Shinohara might be betraying his friends and comrades too. Naturally, there was no way to say anything for sure right at that moment. It might be true, it might not. No way to know.

“Well, see you later!” Tokimune said with a wink and a slight nod of his head.

“Yeah,” Ranta replied with a wave.

“No, not ‘yeah’! You cocky fly shit!” Anna-san snapped at him.

“...Harsh much?”

Though Ranta seemed hurt, Haruhiro didn’t feel all that sympathetic, but if he’d been the one to be called “fly shit” out of nowhere, he’d have started doubting the value of his existence too. Anna-san’s verbal abuse game was on point.

“Haruhiro.”

He could feel the warmth in the look Mimorin was giving him even at this distance.

Was this what they called a passionate glance?

“I love you.”

“...Uh, sure.”

What am I even supposed to do? Jeez.

Well, he didn’t have to do anything for now. They were parting ways with the Tokkis for a while...though only a while. They’d be meeting up again in no time if things went as planned, and it would be bad if they couldn’t, so dwelling on what was to come wasn’t terribly productive. For now, he had to concentrate. Focus on what was in front of him.

The corridor beyond the door was ominously quiet. He made a point of keeping his ears perked up and his eyes peeled as they proceeded. Nothing happened, though.

“Now, let me tell you about the chapel...” Kimura said. “This room, to the best of my knowledge, is always filled with the same kind of enemy. That will likely hold true this time as well...” For some reason, he wasn’t laughing anymore. Kimura didn’t feel like Kimura without the bizarre laughter, so it felt wrong, and ominous.

“What enemies are those?” Setora got straight to the point.

Kimura pushed up the frames of his glasses. The lenses didn’t flash. Yeah, this was weird. Or was it weirder the way they usually flashed like crazy?

“In Orion, we call them wraiths.”

Fortunately, they didn’t encounter any before reaching the chapel.

Unlike all the other rooms before now, the chapel was lit. Light shone down from the high ceiling, apparently coming through panes of stained glass. This place was supposedly underground, so it was probably not natural light. What kind of light was it, then? That remained unclear, but it was good that the room wasn’t dark.

Because of how bright it was, the group could clearly see that the chapel was a cylindrical room, twenty meters across, and that there were stone stairs heading upward in the center of it.

People were sitting on those stone steps.

At least, they certainly looked like people.

Six of them.

This might seem obvious, but they had a mixture of ages, physiques, and manners of dress. There was one point in common though. Each of them was dressed similarly to the party. That is to say, they looked like volunteer soldiers.

“Our other name for the wraiths is mimics.” Kimura held his mace in his right hand, his buckler ready in his left as he pressed forward. “They are animated puppets, modeled on volunteer soldiers who fell in the Graveyard...”

The wraiths on the stone steps gradually stood up.

From the look of it, three of them—a young man, a middle-aged man, and a rather large woman—must have been warriors. The brave young man wielded a greatsword, the middle-aged man an ax, and the large female warrior a longsword and large shield.

The old man with graying hair wore white robes similar to Kimura’s, so he must have been a priest. He held a heavily-ornamented priest’s staff, but it looked like it would still be nasty to get hit with it.

The man with the pointy hat and excessively long goatee was clearly a mage. He carried an off-white staff that didn’t look like it was made of wood.

But it was the tough-looking woman who already had her longsword drawn that caught Haruhiro’s attention. She had a somewhat distinctive way of holding her sword, with the back of her hand turned toward them. There were sheaths on her trunk and thighs too. Did she carry multiple knives? There were a lot of them. Based on the size of the sheaths, they might have been throwing knives. It was impossible to see her face through the iron helm she wore, but her armor was limited to a breastplate, shin guards, and just the bare minimum. He watched her footwork as she smoothly shifted her body weight around. When she had been alive—if that was the right way to say it—the woman whose form the wraith had taken must have been a skilled fighter.

“Let me be clear,” Kimura said quietly, his eyes never leaving the wraiths. “Fight with everything you have. Even if Shingen and my beloved Yokoi are mere shades of their former selves, they are still incredibly powerful.”

Did he just casually mention something huge? Er, was it huge? Hard to say. Maybe it wasn’t that big of a revelation after all.

“Delm, hel, en, trem, rig, arve.”

No time to dwell on it. At the highest point on the stone steps, the gaunt mage with the goatee began drawing elemental sigils and chanting.

“Firewall!” Merry shouted.

The flames rose. It was a literal wall of fire. The screen of flames hid the steps from view. Immediately, the wraiths moved into action. That tough-looking woman descended the stone steps. The greatsword-wielder went right, while the ax-wielder and the female warrior with the longsword and shield went left.

“Here they come!”

Haruhiro gestured for Kuzaku to go right and Yume to go left. Ranta had already taken off to the left.

In mere moments, the greatsword-wielder came out around the right side of the Firewall, and the ax-wielder and female warrior came around the left. Kuzaku took on the greatsword-wielder, Ranta engaged the ax-wielder, and Yume intercepted the female warrior.

“Kimura-san?!”

Kimura was standing before the middle of the Firewall. What was he doing?

Waiting. Was that it?

That tough woman. Kimura’s lover, that was probably what she was. Did he say her name was Yokoi? Yokoi broke through the Firewall like it was nothing, then came at Kimura swinging.

“Fwah-hah?!”

Kimura stopped Yokoi’s longsword with his buckler, then went for a swing with his mace. She might not have been the real thing, but was he really going to actively swing for his ex-lover’s crotch?

It didn’t matter, because Yokoi batted his mace away and attacked Kimura. Repeatedly. Kimura tried to fend off her attacks with his buckler, but he wasn’t quite able to manage it. He got cut all over and was heavily injured in no time.

“Weee! Yokoiii!”

He looked delighted, but she was going to slice and dice him at this rate, so something had to be done. Haruhiro was about to go help, but Setora stopped him.

“You get the mage!” she said.

Haruhiro nodded. “Take care of him!”

Leaving Setora in charge of protecting Kimura, Haruhiro circled around the Firewall. The gaunt mage with the goatee and the graying priest hadn’t come down from the steps. It was like they knew Haruhiro was coming.

“Delm, hel, en, van, arve.”

The gaunt mage triggered another spell. This one was...

“Ah?!”

Hot. In an instant, his eyes felt dry, and his throat was parched. The wind was intensely hot. But it wasn’t so strong that it blew him away. He could hold his ground. He could push through the wind, somehow, but...

“Delm, hel, en, ig, arve.”

Magic again?

Fireballs came at him. Not just one. Two, three whizzed past. Haruhiro instinctively stopped resisting the hot wind. He let it blow him backwards as he twisted out of the way of the orbs of flame. The third one only narrowly missed, and it singed a good chunk of his hair, but he managed to dodge it somehow.

“Huh?!”

The next attack wasn’t magic. It was the graying priest charging in. He gave a sideways swipe of his staff, but put way too much force into it. Haruhiro crouched and got out of the way. But the staff didn’t stop. Or rather, the graying priest didn’t. He spun all the way around with the staff and went in for a second swing. If that hits me, I might be dead, Haruhiro thought as he leapt aside.

“Delm, hel, en, rig, arve.”

The gaunt mage was at it again. Casting spells at regular intervals. A pillar of flame rose up, and Haruhiro came close to running right into it. That was the Fire Pillar spell.

“Urgh...!” Haruhiro tried to back away in a hurry, but the gaunt mage cast another Flame Pillar.

“Delm, hel, en, rig, arve.”

“Hot!”

Behind him. There was a flaming pillar right behind Haruhiro. He couldn’t go forward or back. Left or right? Haruhiro went right before he could second-guess the decision. The graying priest was waiting for him there, swinging his staff down at Haruhiro.

“Ah?!”

If he tried to think through his options, he’d never make it. Haruhiro let his body move for him. The staff grazed his left ear. It didn’t hit. Haruhiro passed by the graying priest, sweeping his leg out on the way. As the priest fell, incredibly, he began to chant a light magic spell.

“O Light, may Lumiaris’s divine protection be upon you!”

The graying priest dropped to the stone floor on his back with a thud. But he still turned his left palm toward Haruhiro.

“Blame!”

“Wha—?!”

Nothing was happening. Did the spell not trigger? Was the light magic a dud? Why? No, the why wasn’t important. Haruhiro jumped on the graying priest. He held the wraith down and slit his throat with a dagger. It was like a bag of dirt. Earth poured from the wound, and it rapidly fell apart. The graying priest turned to soil. No, not just soil. There were white objects mixed in too. Bones, huh?

“Wraiths can’t use light magic?! But they can use other magic!”

“Delm, hel, en, van, arve.”

Yeah. The wraiths couldn’t gain Lumiaris’s blessings with light magic, but they could still use other magic. The gaunt mage cast a spell. The searing wind blew against Haruhiro, nearly throwing him off balance.

“Urgh...!”

“Delm, hel, en, ig, arve.”

Then came the Fireballs. One, two, three. It was nasty work. Haruhiro somersaulted backwards diagonally, avoiding the first and second, then jumped to the side to evade the third.

“This is pretty dangerous, huh?!”

“Meow!”

Yume? Yeah, that was Yume. She had jumped over the now much lower Firewall, rolled, and assumed a kneeling position. Her bow was already drawn and ready. She quickly loosed an arrow. Then another, and another.

“Marc em Parc.”

The gaunt mage was good at reacting. Magic Missile. He generated multiple beads of light, and shot down Yume’s arrows one after another.

“Marc em Parc!”

He continued firing Magic Missiles as he went on the offensive.

“Hah! Whoa! Mew!”

Yume nimbly rolled around, somersaulting and avoiding the beads.

“Shoot!”

She even found an opening to loose an arrow. Incredible.

“Marc em Parc!”

If it weren’t for the short incantation time of Magic Missile, that gaunt mage couldn’t have hoped to win a shooting match with Yume. Judging by how good he was at choosing the right spell for the right situation, he must have been quite a reliable volunteer soldier in life.

The Firewall was disappearing.

Kuzaku was struggling against the greatsword-wielder. Ranta seemed to have taken down the ax-wielder and was now facing the female warrior Yume had been fighting.

Yokoi was incredibly strong. Kimura, Setora, and Merry were all working together and still struggling.

Yume didn’t even look at Haruhiro. As if he didn’t exist. It wasn’t that she couldn’t afford to. Yume was deliberately ignoring Haruhiro.

Why?

That was obvious. So as not to get in his way.

Haruhiro’s consciousness had already sunk into the floor.

Not literally, of course. That was just the mental image he used.

Stealth.

Haruhiro climbed the stone steps.

“Marc em Parc...!”

The gaunt mage launched four beads of light. Yume moved quick as a bunny to get out of the way and loosed an arrow that shot through the gaunt mage’s hat. It instantly crumbled to dust.

“Delm, hel, en, van—”

The gaunt mage wasted no time casting another spell. But it would never be completed.

Haruhiro was already on the gaunt mage, twisting his dagger into the wraith’s back. Backstab.

“Urghk...!”

The gaunt mage’s agony lasted but a moment. He was already crumbling. It was almost instantaneous, the way the gaunt mage turned to dirt.

“Mew!”

Yume jumped once as if to say “We did it!” then turned around. They couldn’t waste time celebrating. The others were still fighting.

“How long are you gonna take, you numbskull?!” Kuzaku shouted, though it wasn’t clear if he was trying to psyche himself up or something else.

There were suddenly two, no, three Rantas. It almost appeared that way for a moment, but it was just the dread knights’ unique way of moving. Or perhaps a Ranta original.

The female warrior had completely lost track of Ranta. She stood there, doing nothing as both her arms got chopped off. The female warrior might have tried to turn, but in that instant, Ranta lopped her head off. She fell to pieces, leaving nothing more than dirt and bones.

“Ultimate technique, Dark Rending! Hot damn! That was badass! I’m the greateeest! Whooo!”

“Ngh!” Kuzaku blocked a downward swipe of the greatsword with his large katana, knocking it up and away. That left its wielder’s torso wide open. “Hahh!” Without missing a beat, Kuzaku slashed through the greatsword-wielder’s torso, cleaving the wraith in two. Just like that, it collapsed into dust.

“Hweeeeaaaahhhh?!” Kimura let out a bizarre shriek, swinging upward with his mace. Had he been aiming for Yokoi’s crotch? Light on her feet, Yokoi stepped back, easily evading the mace.

“Blargh?!”

Something stabbed into Kimura’s head. A throwing knife? Haruhiro missed the exact moment it happened, but Yokoi had presumably thrown it.

“Kimura-san?!”

“M-M-M-My! My skull! Is like steel! Therefore, such a paltry attack!! Could never harm meee!”

“It’s stabbed in there pretty deep...”

“That’s peeerfectly okay! I-I-It’s stuck in place! My b-b-bones will protect me! I will be protected by my booones!”

It looked very much not okay, but if Kimura was going to insist he was fine, then so be it. It did matter, though. Despite being a wraith, Yokoi seemed bewildered. Haruhiro could understand how she felt. Not that it was clear whether wraiths felt anything.

“This brings back memories, you know?” Blood spurted from the spot where the throwing knife was buried in Kimura’s head. “The memories are coming back, Yokoiiii! Our days of love and luuust! Oh, I can’t even speak of them without tears and blooood!”

“Ugh, I don’t even want to know...”

Haruhiro wanted to plug his ears. Actually, he wanted to shut that weirdo up. Maybe Yokoi’s wraith felt the same way? Assuming they could feel, that is. Regardless, she tossed another throwing knife at Kimura.

“Oof?!”

It wasn’t just one. They struck Kimura in the right and left breast, then the stomach. There were three.

“Sweeeet paiiiiin?!”

“Damn, that guy’s way too messed up...”

Haruhiro didn’t want to agree with Ranta, but this time he had no choice but to silently nod.

“L-Let me heal—”

Merry tried to call out to him, but Kimura wasn’t listening. He closed in and swung his mace up at Yokoi.

That’s not working, man. See? She dodged it again.

Yokoi pelted Kimura with throwing knives, as if to say “enough already.” Three more. One in the right arm, and one in each thigh.

“Owwie?!” Kimura finally went down.

“Yeah, I’ll bet that hurts!” Ranta jumped in, swinging at Yokoi. While Ranta moved a lot for every action he took, Yokoi was efficient. With a twist of the elbow or a flick of the wrist, she didn’t so much swing her longsword as smash Ranta’s katana with it. Ranta held his katana in both hands, but Yokoi used a one-handed style. Despite that, Ranta seemed to be the one getting pushed back.

“Whoa?! What the...?!”

“Careful, Ranta!” Haruhiro called out despite himself. Yokoi’s left hand was empty. There was no telling what she might do with it.

“Shut up, Parupirorin...!” Ranta jumped to the right of Yokoi. He stopped in a crouching position. Then, a moment later, he was on her left. Had he been trying to move quickly from her right to left, cutting her down with one strike as he went? Well, Yokoi was unharmed.

“Exquisite technique, Peregrine Counter! Think you can block this too?! Oh, shit, she did!”

As Yokoi silently advanced toward Ranta, Kuzaku sprang in.

“Oorahhh!”

Yokoi neatly parried Kuzaku’s large katana with her longsword. It might be exaggerating to say it was child’s play for her, but when she booted Kuzaku in the chest and sent him reeling backward, he must have felt like the gap between their skill levels was that wide. He swung his large katana with brute force, making her back away until he could recover.

“Uh, she’s kind of amazing!”

“So stay back, you loser!” Ranta began trading blows with Yokoi again. Haruhiro wanted to join in too, but it wasn’t easy. Kimura had said this was nothing compared to how she was in life. Seriously? She had been even stronger than this?

“Ngh, guh...” Kimura was attempting to get up.

Stop it, man. You’re gonna die.

Merry rushed to his side. Setora and Yume did too.

“I can’t heal him with the knives still in!”

“You prepare the spell.” Setora yanked a throwing knife out of Kimura.

“Mew!” Yume helped, removing one knife after another.

“Urgh, urrrgh...” Kimura’s whole body was leaking blood. Merry made the sign of the hexagram in front of her forehead.

“O Light, may Lumiaris’s divine protection be upon you... Sacrament!”

“Ohhhh!” Kimura did a bridge, then leaped to his feet with his arms in the air. He was soaked with blood, but his wounds had closed up. It made him look so heroic, but wasn’t it more important to focus on the duel between Ranta and Yokoi right now? Haruhiro understood that, but for some reason, he kept looking at Kimura. Was this becoming a habit? He hated it.

“Incidentally, Ms. Merry, are you able to cast Circlet?”

“Yes... I can. Why?”

“I have a plan. You are to cooperate. Understood? You will do as I say. Do exactly as I tell you. Understood?”

Merry nodded. There was no saying no to that. All she could do was nod. It was beyond intense. The guy had clearly gone insane.

“It must be I who settles things with Yokoi!” Kimura swung his mace around as he charged toward her. “Out of my way, gentlemen!”

“Whoa, watch it!”

“Gentlemen?!”

After driving off Kuzaku and Ranta, Kimura stood in front of Yokoi.

“O Liiight! May Lumiaris’s divine protection be upon youuu!”

Before Kimura could finish his chant, Yokoi had thrown her knives. Three of them, at practically the same time. How did a wraith’s memories and thoughts work? There was no way to know, but Yokoi had it in for Kimura. The way she threw them seemed to say “stay away from me, you filthy man!” Kimura twisted his head to the side and avoided one, but took the others in his left shoulder and right thigh.

“Mmph! Circlet!” Kimura finished his spell as if to say “so what?” A shimmering ring of light appeared right where Kimura was standing.

“Ahhh!”

The throwing knives fell out of Kimura’s shoulder and thigh. His wounds healed. But Yokoi was right in front of him. Obviously, she wasn’t just going to sit there and watch. Yeah, go figure. She had no reason to. Instead she just stepped in and hit Kimura with her longsword.

“Gahhhhhh?!” Kimura cowered after the blow.

Yokoi’s longsword danced mercilessly. It was brutal. Kimura was slashed this way and that inside the circle of light. He was just barely defending his head and neck with his buckler and mace.

“Arrrrggh?!”

“Whew...” Yume’s eyes were like saucers.

“What is this?” Setora was dumbfounded.

“O Light, may Lumiaris’s divine protection be upon you... Circlet!”

Merry cast a spell. But wasn’t that the same one Kimura just cast? thought Haruhiro. He wasn’t wrong. Kimura was still in the center of the circle of light, getting slashed. Now the circle seemed to get stronger. No, it didn’t just seem to get stronger, it did. Had Kimura’s and Merry’s Circlets overlapped?

“Reeeee! I’m getting boosteeeed?!” Thanks to that, Kimura was getting healed as soon as Yokoi slashed him—or at least that’s how it looked. Was this the plan Kimura had mentioned?

Merry gripped her staff, and looked down. “I-I... I just did what he told me to...”

“Befwegofeozuhyah?! Pain, pain, pain, pain, this is paiiiin! Pain, pain, go awayyyy! It’s not going awayyyy?!”

“Uh, I think somebody’s got a fetish...” Kuzaku was alternately trying to avert his eyes, and staring with morbid curiosity.

Ranta sheathed his katana. “I’m not getting involved...”

“...?!” Yokoi experienced a moment of silent shock as she tried to draw a throwing knife with her left hand but found she was fresh out. Her response was to kick Kimura. Was she trying to drive him out of the circle of light?

“Nghhhhh...”

Kimura stood his ground. He was turtling. This was going nowhere. Yokoi took her longsword in both hands. She swung down at Kimura. And then it happened.

“Nwa-hah!” There was a suspicious flash from Kimura’s glasses. Yokoi’s sword struck his buckler, and his mace whistled through the air. The crotch. Of course it was the crotch. The moment Kimura’s mace slammed into Yokoi’s crotch, there was a crack, and she was torn apart, returning to dirt and bones like all the rest.

“Urgh, ngh, guh...”

Kimura stood casually in the middle of the overlapping circles of light. The knives penetrating his entire body gradually turned to dirt, and the wounds healed as everyone watched.

“I feel it. Feeeel iiiit! Feel your loooove! But, no... This is the love lingering inside me...” Kimura ground his foot into the dirt. “You are not the Yokoi I loved. You are a vile being that soils that beautiful memory. Yokoi, you’re never coming back... Noooooo...”

“Now he’s wailing...” Ranta wasn’t the only one weirded out. They all were. Wait, no.

“You must’ve really loved her, huh?” Yume was tearing up a bit as she nodded to herself.

“Oh, how I loved her.” Kimura turned a face stained with blood, tears, and snot toward Yume. “She was my first, and my last. My greatest love. Yokoi forever...”

“Well...” Ranta chuckled. “If you loved her that much, I guess she was pretty fortunate, huh? Not that I’d know...”

“I was fortunate to be able to love Yokoi. And yet the past is the past.” Kimura knelt, laying his buckler and mace on the floor. Removing his glasses, he wiped his face with a handkerchief. Then, putting his glasses back on, he continued as if nothing had happened. “Now then, we have no time to dawdle. Let’s move along.”

Haruhiro had a lot he wanted to say, but he bit his tongue. He sent his comrades on ahead and was about to go himself, but Kimura didn’t move. Was he still feeling sentimental?

“Kimura-san...?”

“Mr. Haruhiro.” Kimura’s glasses flashed weakly as he beckoned Haruhiro closer.

“Hey, guys...” Ranta shifted his mask and looked at them dubiously.

What were Kimura’s still dully flashing glasses trying to convey?

Haruhiro signaled to Ranta with his eyes. Ranta got the message and returned his mask to its proper place. Turning to the also-stooped Kuzaku and booting him in the butt, the dread knight walked away.

“Don’t kick my butt...”

“Shut up!”

Haruhiro lowered his voice and asked, “So, what’s up?”

“You must excuse me for before.” Kimura lowered his head.

“No, it’s fine... You kinda surprised us there.”

“I truly am embarrassed. Even now, I still lose my composure every time I see her again. Though I understand it’s not really her, of course.”

“But that thing was identical to her, right? I can’t say I blame you.”

“We’ve lost a number of our comrades in the Graveyard, her and Shingen included.”

“Shingen-san... Was he the one with the goatee?”

“Yes. Orion has something of a connection to this place. Why do you think that is?”

“Uh, why?”

“Why, after losing so many of our number, does Orion continue trying to clear the Graveyard? Do you not find it strange?”

“Well... Sure.”

“One reason was that despite its proximity to Alterna, it was nearly untouched by other volunteer soldiers, a sort of unexplored land of adventure. If Orion could fully unravel the mysteries of the Graveyard, it would give us a legacy that would last forever. It’s the spirit of adventure.”

“Hmm. The spirit of adventure, huh? ...I think I get it.”

“Mr. Haruhiro. You are not the type to be moved by such things. I can tell. To tell you the truth, I’m the same way.”

“Huh?”

“Clearing the Graveyard is Shinohara-kun’s goal. If he is so passionate about it, then we in Orion have to do everything we can to accomplish it. There’s no other choice.”

“I get the feeling...” Haruhiro tapped his cheek, looking at Kimura with upturned eyes. Kimura’s gaze was cast down at his feet. “You weren’t that keen on the idea, Kimura-san? Just maybe?”

“No, that is not true. Not at all,” Kimura responded instantly, but his tone was not as strong as the words he’d chosen. “If not for Shinohara-kun, Orion would never have been born. Without his magnanimity, his keen observation, his decisiveness, his rare leadership, his unparalleled communication skills, and his almost terrifying ability to adapt, Orion could never have come to be. Orion is the house that Shinohara-kun built for the people he saved. For we who were cast into Grimgar, with no memories of our homeland, it was our sweeeet hoooome...!”

Was Kimura joking around? Or was he serious? It was hard to be sure.

“The thing about Shinohara-kun is, despite appearances to the contrary, he’s quite the romantic. No matter how many of our comrades fell, he never gave up on exploring the Graveyard. He may well be taking advantage of the operation to take Mount Grief to accomplish his true goal here.”

“His true goal?” Haruhiro furrowed his brow. “What goal would that be exactly?”

“Kuh-buh...” Kimura let out another one of his characteristic weird laughs, and then shook his head. What did that mean? Was he unable to say? Did he just not want to? Or did Kimura not know?

“For my part...Mr. Haruhiro, it may do no good to tell you this, but I am concerned for Shinohara-kun... As a friend, you see.”

“Uh... What has you worried about him?”

“As I’m sure you’re aware, Shinohara-kun is a very good person. I respect him. He’s the master of Orion, and a precious friend. However, there are times when he...”

Kimura’s face twisted with pain that he probably wasn’t faking. It felt like he was honestly troubled. That was the read Haruhiro got, at least.

“I hope I can be of assistance to him, but... I may not be good enough. Sometimes, even when I’m at his side, he feels so distant...”

“Kimura-san.”

Let’s try delving deeper.

Haruhiro made up his mind. Though Kimura was always next to Shinohara, it seemed possible he might still be on their side.

“You know the Forbidden Tower, right?”

“Yes,” Kimura said after a pause, adjusting the position of his glasses. His lenses didn’t flash, but his expression stiffened. He seemed guarded. “Of course. What about it?”

Is this a good idea or a bad idea? It isn’t too late to back off. But this is something Shinohara said. I’m going to check if Kimura knows. That’s all.

“Then how about the master of the Forbidden Tower?”

“Maaasteeer?”

“No... Master.”

“Master...” Kimura cocked his head to the side in thought.

Was he playing stupid? Or did he really not know? Which was it? It was hard to say.

“Mr. Haruhiro.”

“Yes?”

“I hear that you woke up beneath the Forbidden Tower. With no memory outside of your own name.”

“Yeah, that’s right.”

“What if...” Suddenly Kimura brought his face close.

Whoa, that’s close.

Kimura’s nose touched Haruhiro’s.

Too close, man.

“Did you meet him, this master of the Forbidden Tower? If you did, then was he the person who stole your memories? Though, I suppose he’s not necessarily a person. Was he human? You lost your memory. Nine times out of ten, that sort of thing is the work of a relic. Could we not speculate that perhaps all of us once had our memories taken by the master of the tower, and then we were led to Alterna to become volunteer soldiers?”