Grimgal of Ashes and Illusion - Volume 18 - Chapter 15

15. HATE THE WORLD

Yume, Merry, Setora, Kuzaku, and even Itsukushima and Neal were waiting for them in front of the Bratsod residence.

“Haruhiro!” Kuzaku shouted, hugging him.

“Uhhh...” It was a bit annoying, but Haruhiro wouldn’t have felt right pushing the guy away. “Yeah...” He patted Kuzaku’s way-too-broad back, and put up with the embrace for a little while.

In all honesty, if he was going to share a hug with someone to celebrate his survival, he really would have preferred Merry. Obviously, he couldn’t do that in front of everyone. But did she feel the same way? Based on the look she was giving Haruhiro, she probably did.

“Thought you’d be okay, but still, thank goodness.” Yume put a hand over her chest and sighed.

Ranta rubbed his nose with his thumb, trying to act cool. “Heh. And he’s got me to thank for it!”

“Mew. Y’think so?”

Much as it galled him to admit it, it was the truth. Haruhiro was going to have to accept it. “Well, yeah...”

“Pah! I deserve more than a ‘well, yeah,’ Crapu-piro! It oughta be, ‘Thank you so very much, I swear I’ll be grateful until the day I die, oh great and mighty Ranta,’ and you know it!”

“It’s because you act like this...”

“’Cause I act like this, what?!”

Axbeld, the red-bearded minister of the left, had managed with great difficulty to persuade Rowen, the black-bearded captain of the royal guard, to let him take the Red Beards from the Iron Palace to the Great Ironfist Gate.

The minister of the left planned to absorb any surviving dwarven units and townsfolk they encountered along the way, and then defend the gate to the death. The hope was that they might even be able to strike out from the Great Ironfist Gate, break through the enemy encirclement, and escape.

Haruhiro could only pray the gate hadn’t fallen. It was kind of why he’d drawn Arnold and his unit into that chase. If Axbeld and his dwarves could make it to the Great Ironfist Gate, maybe Haruhiro could convince himself that all that running for his life had been worth it.

The group headed to the warehouse where the iron king and her retinue, Captain of the Royal Guard Rowen, old Utefan the guide, the members of the House of Bratsod, Elder Harumerial of the elves, and Eltalihi of the House of Mercurian had already gathered.

“You’re late!” Rowen roared at Haruhiro the moment he saw the thief. The dwarf was really agitated. Or it might have been that he was dissatisfied with being the one who defended the iron king during her flight while the minister of the left remained in the Ironblood Kingdom.

“Rowen.” The iron king was clad in armor, a helmet, and a cloak, hiding her face. However, the voice that rebuked the captain of the royal guard was unquestionably that of the king. The way her silver hair sparkled as it spilled out of her helmet was unreal. “Now, let us be on our way.”

Once the iron king said that, the members of the House of Bratsod began opening the iron door. They and old Utefan led the way, with Rowen, the iron king and her retinue, Harumerial the elven elder, Eltalihi Mercurian, and Haruhiro’s group following behind them in that order as they proceeded along the passageway toward the Walter Gate.

“What about Gottheld-san?” Haruhiro asked, but Itsukushima shook his head.

“He went with the minister of the left.”

“Oh... Well, it’s impressive that you managed to at least persuade the king. I had a feeling she’d be pretty reluctant to do this.”

“She must’ve decided she doesn’t want to die,” Neal said with a cynical smile. Kuzaku scowled at him.

“I dunno that you should be lumping her together with someone like you...”

“We are the same, though, aren’t we? What’s so different?”

“Lots. Obviously.”

“Whether it’s me or the dwarven queen, once we bite it, that’s the end. No difference between us. Yeah, I know you people wouldn’t give a shit if I died. But this is the only life I’ve got.”

“Well, I guess you should take good care of it, then, huh?”

“That’s what I’m doing. Don’t need you to tell me to.”

“Yeah, go figure.”

“Mark my words. I’m gonna survive, even if every last one of you dies.”

“That’s the kind of line a guy who’s gonna die says, you know?” Ranta smirked.

Neal laughed it off. “Here’s a tip; speaking from experience here. It doesn’t matter what I say. It’s what I do that’ll decide whether or not I survive.”

Setora nodded with no particular expression on her face. “An opinion worth heeding.”

“I know, right?” Neal smirked. Then, lowering his eyes, he let out a sigh. “What do I do, though? That’s the one thing I have to think about. If I hadn’t kept trying too hard at my job under Mogis, I’d never’ve ended up in this jam. I should’ve slacked off a bit. But it was all I could do at the time. I’m not making a mistake. I’ve been doing well. Yeah. That’s why I haven’t ended up like Bikki. Screw dying. At least until I can say I was glad to be alive...”

He was mumbling something to himself. It seemed Neal was feeling pushed into a corner.

The delegation’s original mission had been to deliver Jin Mogis’s letter to the iron king, negotiate with her, and then return with the results. It was always going to be a long road, even if all they did was go and come back. There was always the possibility that negotiations would break down and it would be all for nothing too. Haruhiro had been prepared for that sort of difficulty. But maybe his read on the situation had been too naive? He’d never imagined the journey would be so harsh.

The group walked along the stone corridor reinforced with iron. There were lanterns in alcoves carved into the walls, so they had no need to carry lights of their own.

“Mungh...” Yume groaned.

“What’s up?” Ranta asked her.

“Hmm? What’s up? Somethin’ is...”

Yume kept twisting her head in different directions. Was something bothering her?

There were iron doors here and there along the passageway. The group would open one, pass through, and then close them again before moving onward.

Were they missing something? Haruhiro lacked Yume’s perception, but he was getting a weird feeling too. Given how bad things had gotten, they’d probably made tons of mistakes. Were any of those faults or failures ones that he ought to be thinking about now, while he had the chance?

Merry was walking beside Haruhiro. He looked at her face in profile, and noticed her eyes were wide and focused up ahead of them.

Haruhiro tried to call out to her. But for whatever reason, he couldn’t do it.

Old Utefan pounded on the last iron door. The old white-bearded dwarf looked ancient and walked with a staff, although for some reason, his staff seemed unusually heavy. It was made of metal, and its head bulged out like a hammer. He was rapping hard on the metal door with the end of it now, making an incredible racket.

The iron door began to open. That was presumably the work of the dwarven guards on the other side.

As they were passing through, Captain Rowen asked the guard, “Anything amiss?”

“Nothing.”

“I see. Keep up the good work.” Rowen clapped the guard dwarf on the shoulder, causing the man to stumble a little.

The group passed through a limestone cave and exited through the Walter Gate. Haruhiro looked up to see what was going on in the watch stations, picking out dwarves that were poking their heads out of the rock huts. One of them came down from his post. It was Willich, the dwarf with the evil countenance.

“Your Majesty...”

Willich was about to kneel down before the iron king, but the king stopped him.

“That will not be necessary.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Willich responded, not dropping to one knee, but still lowering his head. “We will seal the Walter Gate at once. Please, hasten away from here.”

“You are to follow us once you finish sealing the gate. We need as many people with us as possible.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Willich waved to the others, and dwarves began coming out of the rock huts one after another. They headed to the Walter Gate, and were presumably going to make sure it would never open again.

“We’ll want to buy as much of a lead as possible by sunset,” Setora murmured. Being underground for so long had messed with their sense of time a little, but there were probably still a couple hours before the sundown.

The former mine city on Mount Spear was supposed to be about a hundred kilometers east of the Kurogane Mountain Range. That was strictly as the crow flew, however. Besides, the Walter Gate was on the west side of the Kuroganes. That was going to add several dozen kilometers to the actual distance they’d be traveling. The forests in the foothills of the Kurogane Range were Southern Expedition territory, so their route would probably have to take them through the mountains too.

“This is gonna be rough...” Neal grumbled with a sigh.

Honestly, Haruhiro felt the same, but in for a penny, in for a pound. Once they had escorted the iron king to the former mine city on Mount Spear, then they could either head back to Alterna or visit the free city of Vele. If he remembered correctly, Mount Spear was maybe seventy or eighty kilometers from Vele. The free city was supposedly neutral, but they had ties to the K&K Pirate Company. The party could rest there awhile. Depending on how things went, they might be safer not returning to Alterna and staying in Vele instead. No, that wasn’t an option. They needed to do something about Shihoru, and Haruhiro was still worried about the Volunteer Soldier Corps.

Anyway, for now, we have to get to Mount Spear.

The group was marching single file through the gaps in the massive rocks. Haruhiro and the party went along with them.

As they were descending along a mountain stream, Haruhiro noticed Itsukushima was looking around an awful lot. Yume was frowning too, or rather puffing up her cheeks one at a time as she looked this way and that.

“Poochie?” Merry furrowed her brow as she said the wolf-dog’s name.

“Yeah,” Yume nodded. “Poochie’s supposed to be around here, waitin’ for Yume and Master. He oughta notice us and be comin’ along any moment now, though.”

“Well, I’m sure he’ll find us in good time,” Itsukushima said, but it sounded more like he was trying to reassure himself. It wasn’t like him.

Haruhiro turned to look back. The broken rocks that had, in a way, served as a landmark for the Walter Gate were no longer visible from here.

Though these were wetlands, there were rocky areas along the river, and two people could walk across them side-by-side. As long as they didn’t spread out, they could avoid having to step into the running water, which was preferable even if it was shallow.

The area on the left side of the mountain stream was relatively flat, while on the right was a sheer cliff.

“Haruhiro?” Kuzaku called his name.

“Yeah,” Haruhiro responded vaguely.

The group was still descending along the mountain stream. Haruhiro was the only one not moving.

“Is something bothering you?” Setora asked, stopping as well and looking up at the sheer cliff on the right. Merry, Kuzaku, Ranta, Yume, Itsukushima, and even Neal stopped too.

“Hey, wait up!” Ranta yelled after the rest of the group. The iron king turned back, and the rest of them stopped too.

“What is it?!” Captain Rowen demanded.

Haruhiro quickly exchanged glances with each of his comrades. They more or less understood him without having to talk it over. “I’m going up top to have a look, just to be safe,” he told Rowen, pointing to the cliff on the right.

“Be quick about it,” the dwarf said. Then, turning to his men, he instructed them, “Everyone, remain alert!”

Rowen was an impatient man, but he was no fool. Itsukushima joined Haruhiro as he headed toward the cliff.

“I’ll go too,” he offered.

“That’d help.”

Itsukushima probably sensed something too, and feared the worst. The two of them wouldn’t have to go back up the stream. They could clamber up the side of the cliff directly. Itsukushima reached the rock face first. Haruhiro took a deep breath, then looked up to the top. That was when it happened.

“Osh!” “Osh!” “Osh!” “Osh!” “Osh!”

“Orcs?!”

Haruhiro saw someone jump off the cliff.

“Oooooooooshhhhhhhhhhh!”

White hair streaming behind him, and a sword held in each hand. He knew that orc. There had been a unit holding Mount Grief with a mixed force of orcs, undead, and kobolds. He was their commander—Zan Dogran.

“Shit!”

When he heard Kuzaku cursing, Haruhiro got the chills. Even Renji had struggled against Zan Dogran, despite having the relic Aragarfald. They were in trouble now, weren’t they?

“Kuza—”

“Ngohhh!”

Kuzaku instinctively drew his large katana and went to intercept Zan Dogran. Was he trying to slash the orc as he fell?

“Zweagh?!”

Then, for some reason, though Haruhiro couldn’t be sure what because his eyes hadn’t been able to catch it, Kuzaku got sent flying by the orc. He collapsed into the river.

“Personal Skill!”

Not missing a beat, Ranta took a swing at Zan Dogran—or made it look like he was going to before suddenly coming to a stop right in front of the orc and quickly lowering his stance. Lower than a crouch. It must have made it look like Ranta had up and disappeared. This was particularly effective against a large orc like Zan Dogran. Or it should have been, but no dice. It wasn’t going to work, huh?

Zan Dogran swung the one-edged sword in his left hand. He was clearly aiming at Ranta.

“Tch!”

Ranta did a frog-like jump to the side to get out of the way, but Zan Dogran’s right-hand sword was swinging at where the dread knight was trying to escape to.

“Whoa!”

He got him.

It was like Ranta was cut in half, then hastily stuck back together. No, obviously that’s not what happened. It had only looked like the dread knight had been cut. Ranta had actually managed to avoid it somehow.

“Osh!” “Osh!”

“Osh!” “Osh!” “Osh!”

“Osh!” “Osh!” “Osh!” “Osh!”

“Osh!” “Osh!” “Osh!” “Osh!” “Osh!”

The orcs with their hair bleached white, carrying one-handed swords with single serrated edges, raced down the cliff one after another. Some of them were sliding down. And it wasn’t just orcs. The undead who had likely followed Zan Dogran here from Mount Grief were with them too.

“Master!” Yume shouted.

Itsukushima beat a hasty retreat, and Haruhiro backed away too. If they didn’t hurry, they’d be swallowed up in the oncoming wave of orcs and undead.

“Dwarves!” Captain Rowen drew his greatsword and came at Zan Dogran swinging. “We’ll hold them back! Please escape, Your Majesty!”

Of the members of the House of Bratsod, maybe half were armed with guns, axes, and polearms. Ten or so dwarves pointed their guns at the top of the cliff, while the remaining ten were bunching up around old Utefan, the iron king, and the elves as they tried to continue down the mountain stream.

“Hurrrrgh!” Rowen swung his greatsword down diagonally. Zan Dogran backed away, stumbling. The captain of the royal guard’s sword tore into the ground, sending stones and water flying in a wide radius. Zan Dogran disregarded that and tried to close in on the dwarf, but, incredibly, Rowen went and headbutted the orc.

“Nugh?!”

Zan staggered back after taking Rowen’s headbutt to the chest. Rowen did a nearly vertical spin with his body as he followed up with a swing of his greatsword. Not able to take it, Zan Dogran jumped and rolled, managing to get away from the horrifying slash somehow.

No, there was no escape. Rowen kept after Zan Dogran, swinging again and again.

It would have been hyperbole to say that Captain Rowen’s greatsword was as long as he was tall, but if you included the hilt in your measurement it was pretty close. Even Kuzaku, and possibly even some of the orcs, who were larger than humans, might have struggled to wield such a blade. Rowen swung that monster blade around with both hands, and sometimes just his right hand, as if it were light. Despite being fully clad in glossy black armor, the dwarf remained nimble and even flexible. His sword reached out like it was alive, pressing its incessant attack against Zan Dogran.

“Urff! Orgh!”

Zan Dogran had been forced entirely on the defensive. Rowen was overwhelming him.

The orcs and undead hadn’t seen this coming, had they? Zan Dogran’s feats of martial prowess had stood out during the battle of the old castle on Mount Grief. Surely his men worshiped him as some sort of god of battle. Now he was being pushed back by a dwarf. That had clearly unnerved his soldiers.

“Fire!”

At that moment, the House of Bratsod’s dwarven gunners fired a volley. The sound of even just ten guns was nothing to make light of. Furthermore, this enemy unit, having come here from Mount Grief, wasn’t yet used to the sound of gunfire. Only three or four of them, possibly even just one or two, had actually been hit, and yet it was clear to see they were ready to run away.

“Haruhirooo!”

“Yeah!”

Haruhiro didn’t need Ranta to signal him. The party followed the fleeing iron king. Setora had already helped Kuzaku up, so he was fine. Neal was nowhere to be seen, but Itsukushima and Yume were next to them. Merry was in front of Yume. Or rather, Yume had probably let Merry go ahead of her.

“Diiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeiiiiii!”

Something changed about Zan Dogran. His hair stood on end, and his whole body crackled with something like static electricity. He’d been like that when trading blows with Renji too. His twin swords were pretty hefty, but he would swing them around like sticks when in this state.

“Gah! Urgh?!”

In no time, it was Rowen who was on the defensive. Though, defend as he might, was there any way to fend off Zan Dogran’s twin swords when they swung down on him this fast and full of fury, too quick for the eye to follow? There was no time to worry about the captain of the guard, though. Once Zan Dogran turned the tables, the enemy quickly regained their vigor. Ranta jumped out and cut down one of the white-haired orcs who had been ignoring the House of Bratsod’s gunners to chase after them.

“Aw, yeah!”

There was another one coming. A different white-haired orc. Haruhiro immediately planted a kick on its knee, struck its chin with the palm of his left hand, and almost simultaneously stabbed his right-hand dagger, which he was holding with a backhand grip, through the orc’s heart. Once he pushed the orc away and tore his weapon free, an undead sprang at him. Dodging, he got behind it, then used Spider. He grappled the undead, slitting its throat with a twist of his dagger.

“Ranta!”

“Yeah, I know!”

He didn’t want to get bogged down and cut off from their comrades. Much as he hated to leave them, Rowen and the Bratsods were going to have to stand their ground on their own. But they were up against Zan Dogran. Could they hold out? He didn’t know. Zan Dogran’s unit was supposed to have anywhere from several hundred to a thousand guys. The dwarves were beyond outnumbered. Even if the dwarves had guns, it wasn’t going to make much difference. They needed to run. It was the only option.

They’d been found out. The Southern Expedition had known where the Walter Gate was. Come to think of it, Itsukushima and Yume had been worried about some tracks that weren’t from a four-legged creature, which must have been left by the enemy. The Southern Expedition had probably deployed Zan Dogran and his unit at the Walter Gate once he joined up with the main force, then launched a general offensive. In short, their escape had already been cut off from the start. They were like rats in a trap.

They continued down the mountain stream. The footing here was awful, the rocks often shifting or crumbling under their feet. Merry nearly tripped, but Yume caught her.

“Sorry!”

“Meow!”

The iron king was out of sight. It seemed she’d made it all the way down the mountain stream and into the forest on the right. Kuzaku, Setora, Itsukushima, Yume, and Merry followed. Neal was gone. Where to? Had he run off? When? And how? That man’s ability to run away, to just outright disappear, was the one genuine thing about him.

Haruhiro and Ranta entered the forest. This wasn’t a path they’d taken on the way here. Was it a path at all? Maybe the iron king’s group had deliberately chosen to chart a new course for their flight.

Either way, all the party could do was follow along. Haruhiro honestly didn’t know which way was which at this point. He kept turning to look behind him, checking for enemies. Unfortunately, they hadn’t managed to shake their pursuers. He sensed danger not just to the rear, but on the left and right too. Were there enemies scattered all around them now? He spotted orcs and undead here and there, only to lose track of them again.

The forest. This wasn’t just a forest. It was a sea of trees. Trunks and roots twisted and intertwined, creating swells and depressions. In some places there seemed to be deep fissures too. Still, this wasn’t a problem only for the people fleeing. It had to be just as difficult for the ones hunting them. This wasn’t like running across flat ground. It forced them to duck and weave, climbing some times, jumping over things at others, using a variety of postures and moves.

It was especially hard on the short dwarves. The iron king, who had her face hidden behind a helmet, was silently jumping from root to root, grabbing onto and clambering up tree trunks, but you couldn’t have called her moves graceful, not even if you were trying to be nice.

Yume gazed upward. Was she looking at the sky through the branches?

“Is something up there?” Itsukushima asked Yume.

Yume shook her head. “Mmm, just now, it felt like there was a big bird flyin’ by.”

“A bird...” Ranta mumbled, looking around.

“Personalized Skill...”

Whose voice was that? Above. It came from above.

It’s coming down. What? From up in the treetops?

“Ran—”

That was as much as Haruhiro managed to get out. It looked like whatever it was, it was falling toward Ranta. By the time Haruhiro figured that out, it was already attacking the dread knight. Ranta noticed too, but he didn’t dodge. He drew his katana and tried to strike it out of the air.

“Great Foul Waterfall! Right?!”

Was Ranta’s quick draw and strike too late?

No, probably not.

There was the sound of katana colliding with katana. That thing, or man rather, swept Ranta’s katana aside with his own—then slashed. He cut Ranta, landed, and then almost seemed to float as he jumped away. When the one-eyed, one-armed man settled on a root, he had an expression on his face that looked refreshed, as if he’d just gotten out of the bath, but also slightly languid at the same time.

“You’ve still got a long way to go, Ranta.”

“Gwogh...”

The wound Ranta had taken wasn’t shallow. Was it his shoulder? No, his neck. It was spurting blood. Had it struck an artery? The carotid artery? Not even Ranta could try to act tough with a wound like that. It looked bad.

“Ah!”

Merry raced over. She was already making the sign of the hexagram, preparing her spell. She planned to cast Sacrament. If she didn’t, it’d be too late. That had to be her thinking.

What did Haruhiro and the others need to be doing? Not letting the enemy disrupt Merry. Escorting her. They might not be able to defeat that man, Takasagi, but they could keep him in check. Yume was already nocking an arrow.

“Mew!”

“I guess instead of holding back I’ll show off a bit,” Takasagi said, wobbling the katana he held in his left hand. “Secret Technique, Autumnal Illusion.”

I don’t get it. What is that?

Takasagi was just standing there, shaking his blade. Was that all it was? Takasagi’s body moved as if it was swaying too.

Yume loosed her arrow. She followed up with a second, then a third in quick succession. Itsukushima was shooting too.

But they didn’t hit.

The two hunters weren’t at a range where they’d normally have missed. They were less than ten meters away. Why hadn’t they been able to hit him? Was Takasagi dodging? But the one-armed man just seemed to be standing around. It was almost as if Yume and Itsukushima had just barely missed him on purpose. Was that Takasagi’s secret technique?

It makes no sense. What the heck is that?

Don’t lose your head. Cut yourself off from your emotions, Haruhiro told himself, submerging his consciousness. His mind went to a low place while his vision rose up high. He was looking down on everything at an angle.

Merry would reach Ranta soon. Setora had her spear ready, and was trying to cover the two of them. Kuzaku was swinging his large katana at Takasagi. Wasn’t it reckless, just charging in like that? Kuzaku was generally a pretty straightforward guy, but he was playing it way too straight there.

Old Utefan and the other dwarves were focused on guarding the iron king, her retinue, and the two elves. They were all looking at Takasagi, but none of them tried to attack him. Maybe a few of the dwarves were hesitating over whether or not to point their guns at him, but that was about it.

Haruhiro went to circle around behind Takasagi.

“O Light, may Lumiaris’s divine protection be upon you...” Merry’s hand touched Ranta’s shoulder.

“Hahhhh!” Kuzaku sprang at Takasagi. He had his large katana over his head, and was about to swing it down. No matter how you cut it, Kuzaku shouldn’t have been so stupid and careless as to try such a straightforward attack. It was like he’d been led into it. Was there some secret hidden in the irregular and unstable way that Takasagi was moving?

“Sacrament!”

Merry triggered her spell. There was a flood of brilliant light and Ranta’s wounds began to heal.

Kuzaku’s overhead swing failed to hit Takasagi, as expected. Takasagi turned to the side and Kuzaku’s blade flew by in front of his nose. At the same time, Takasagi was slicing Kuzaku’s flank with his katana.

“Oh, you’re a tough one.”

“Gwagh?!”

Kuzaku instinctively jumped to the side and rolled. It looked like he’d taken a pretty deep cut, but he hadn’t been completely bisected, at least. The question was if he could get back up.

Haruhiro focused his eyes on Takasagi’s back from about three meters away. He’d gotten behind his target. From here, he could sense Takasagi’s breathing. It was completely steady, even though this man had just sliced Kuzaku.

Takasagi looked like he was just standing there. And yet, that wasn’t quite true. He was constantly moving, his center of gravity always changing. It wasn’t clear where in his body he was tensing, and where he was relaxing. If Haruhiro tried to stand like that, he’d definitely collapse. It would be hard enough just walking, and using a katana would be out of the question. Takasagi might not have looked like it at a glance, but he was doing something frighteningly advanced here. However he was moving, it probably worked differently from normal human movement.

“Drahhhhhh!”

Ranta’s wounds had healed. He exploded into motion, no doubt meaning to get back at Takasagi. Merry would be trying to heal Kuzaku. Setora went with her.

Haruhiro was closing in on Takasagi in Stealth. No one, not even his allies, noticed Haruhiro’s existence now. It got to the point where Haruhiro himself had only the faintest sense that he was here.

He didn’t think, I can do this. He wasn’t thinking, I’m gonna do it.

His mind was almost empty.

Haruhiro would plunge his dagger into Takasagi’s back. In this position, at this angle, it would pierce his kidney. That would promptly render him unconscious, followed shortly by death. It was a lethal blow.

“Whoopsie...”

He felt the dagger tear through Takasagi’s clothes and pierce his skin, but then Haruhiro found himself being lifted over the man’s shoulder.

What had happened?

He didn’t understand the trick, or where the strength to execute it had come from.

Was there a technique that made it possible?

“And down you go...”

Takasagi tossed Haruhiro with a shoulder throw. How had he done it when he had only his left arm, and was holding a katana with it?

“Urgh!” Haruhiro wasn’t able to break his fall properly.

He tilted his head forward on the spur of the moment, managing to protect the back of his head, but the impact as his back struck the hard roots made it hard to breathe.

“Y’see, I’ve got an eye in the back of my head,” Takasagi looked down at Haruhiro. “So even after losing one, I’ve still got two.” He winked with his right eye. The man was calm and composed, bouncing the flat of his blade on his shoulder as he spoke.

“Personal Skill!” Ranta swooped in like a flying squirrel, or something similar, as he slashed at Takasagi.

“Oh, shut up with your personal skills.”

Takasagi bent his wrists and elbows, twisting his katana like a snake. It caught Ranta’s katana.

“Ah?!”

Did Ranta have no choice but to let go of his weapon? Or did he do it without meaning to? Either way, the blade spun out of Ranta’s hands and embedded itself in a tree some distance away.

“Always looking for little tricks. That’s the problem with you.” Takasagi pressed the point of his katana to Ranta’s throat. “When it comes to ordinary guys like us, the absolute minimum we need to do is break ourselves down into little pieces, and then rebuild ourselves from scratch. Basically, if you stop working hard, you’re finished. With the way that you rely on instinct and flashes of inspiration, in the end, you’re just a spoiled, snot-nosed brat.”

Ranta tried to argue back. But he just let out a pathetic sigh, grinding his teeth in frustration.

What’re you letting him break your spirit for?

Haruhiro tried to jump to his feet, but Takasagi just stepped on his throat without even looking down. The thief then felt a katana go through his right wrist.

“Agh! Guh...”

“Don’t move. I’m giving a lecture here. This might be my last chance to, after all.”

Takasagi smiled. Just now, the man could have easily snuffed Haruhiro out. He could still kill Ranta too. Did he not want to? He didn’t mean to kill them. That’s gotta be it, thought Haruhiro. It had to be.

“Stop!” Merry shouted. It seemed she’d finished healing Kuzaku. The paladin was getting up.

Takasagi shrugged. “We may not be doing this because we want to, but our motto is that if you’re gonna do something, you go all the way. If you don’t take things seriously, then it’s no fun at all, even when you’re just playing. That’s a bit of adult wisdom for you.”

“Surrender.”

That wasn’t Takasagi. It was a different voice.

“Jumbo...” Ranta turned to look behind him. Haruhiro looked in that direction too.

Yume had said a bird was flying by. Was it that one? Jumbo’s friend, the great black eagle?

A lone orc walked toward them. He was unmistakably an orc, yet gave off a very different impression from others of his kind. Was it because of his glossy, flowing black hair, his green skin with a slight ashen hue, his beautiful, vibrant orange eyes, and his handsome face? He wore a deep blue kimono with a silver flower pattern, and carried a katana at his side. He was small enough, at least for an orc, that the size of the big black eagle using his shoulder as a perch stood out. Unlike, say, Zan Dogran, he didn’t look like a man who dominated others. And yet, there was something about him that demanded attention.

“You people are left with not even a shred of hope. Surrender at once. If you refuse, I will be forced to kill you all.”

“Surrender...is not an option,” the iron king said. “I cannot possibly bend the knee to the forces of evil who so mercilessly slaughtered my people just to save my own life.”

The dwarven queen stood proud with her head held high. Her tone of voice had an incredible purity to it—resolute, without so much as a shred of doubt.

Oh, screw you.

Haruhiro was pissed. He got so mad he thought he was going to lose it.

At the same time, he could understand. Initially, the Ironblood Kingdom had kept their enemies away with guns. Now the guns had been stolen, and not only had the tables turned, they were on the verge of annihilation. The only options left to them were to fight to the death in the name of pride, or for the surviving dwarves to gather around the iron king and eke out what meager existence they could.

It had been a hard choice for the iron king to flee the Ironblood Kingdom. However, if she had rejected Minister Axbeld’s plan, it would have meant the dwarves would be exterminated to the very last person. She likely hadn’t made her escape for fear of her own life. It might even have been easier for her to take up the sword herself and fall beside the rest of her kind. She’d decided to head for Mount Spear for the sake of her race, for the sake of dwarvenkind. If Haruhiro were in her position, could he have done the same? He might have given in to desperation and chosen to share the same fate as his fellows. To fight bravely, then die. If the kingdom was to fall, and the entire race to die out, then it wasn’t so scary as long as they were all together.

It was harder to be a survivor, and yet the iron king had chosen that.

Obviously, she hadn’t taken this course just to surrender now. There was no guarantee the enemy would let them live. She might face unbearable humiliation. But more than that, the shame of being taken alive by the enemy was too much for the iron king to bear. Even if some dwarves had made it out of the Ironblood Kingdom alive, they would learn what had happened to her later. That their queen had abandoned her people, then surrendered to the enemy.

Surrender wasn’t an option. Haruhiro got that. But he also knew what would happen if the iron king said those words right now.

“I see.” Jumbo nodded.

The great black eagle took off from his shoulder.

Old Utefan immediately raised his hammer-like staff. Maybe he was trying to give an order to the dwarves of the House of Bratsod. Fight, shoot Jumbo. A number of them did turn their guns on the orc. But they never managed to fire.

Jumbo dashed. The first step was relaxed, but every step after that was like a sudden gust of wind. Dwarves were sent flying through the air, including the iron king’s retinue. One after another, or rather all at once, they each slammed into the ground with a heavy thud.

What had Jumbo done? That wasn’t clear. He hadn’t drawn his katana. Was he barehanded? Did he punch them? Or did he throw his opponents? Or was it his legs? Did he kick them? Not even that much was clear. Jumbo did something. That was all they could tell.

“Elder!” Eltalihi, head of the House of Mercurian, tried to draw his sword to defend Elder Harumerial of the elves. He failed. He was sent flying before he could, with his head turned all the way around. His neck must have been broken.

Jumbo seized the iron king’s throat with his right hand, Harumerial’s with his left, and lifted them up high.

The dwarves who had been launched into the air fell around him like so many insignificant raindrops.

“Perhaps...”

What was that emotion seeping into the depths of Jumbo’s deep voice? Pity?

Despite his actions being as merciless and unrelenting as the judgment of heaven?

“That may be the wiser choice. If you had surrendered to us, we’d have had no choice but to turn you over to High King Dif Gogun. It is certain you would meet a fate worse than death at his hands. I will shoulder the sin of killing you myself, then. Farewell.”

Who did that orc think he was? There was no malice in him. Not a shred of hostility to be felt. He transcended logic, common sense, emotion, all of those things, seeming to exist in some place beyond them. In which case, there was no point asking how he could do this. Haruhiro could get fired up, make a lengthy speech criticizing him, and the orc wouldn’t feel a thing.

Jumbo easily crushed the iron king and Elder Harumerial’s throats.

He didn’t release them when he was done. He held them in the air a while, probably long enough for them to die.

Then he bent his knees, crouched down, and softly laid their remains on the ground.

“Wh-What are you...doing?”

Kuzaku was trembling. Haruhiro couldn’t understand why, but for some reason, the paladin was enraged.

What’s there to get so angry about? Haruhiro wondered. What good is getting mad at a guy like Jumbo going to do? He’s not like us. Nothing like us. Let’s say there’s an omnipotent, omniscient god out there somewhere. If he’s all-knowing, and he’s able to do anything, then why doesn’t he help us?

Haruhiro could complain all he wanted, but God probably didn’t care what some powerless human thought. He wouldn’t even bother to respond. As if to say, Not helping you is the entire point. It’s better this way. Not that you’d understand that, you little fool.

Haruhiro had Takasagi’s foot on his throat and a katana thrust through his right wrist. Takasagi would notice immediately if he went for the flame dagger with his left hand. That said, Takasagi wasn’t even glancing at Haruhiro. He just lazily pulled the blade out of Haruhiro’s right wrist, then thrust it through his left.

“Gaaagh!”

Haruhiro hated Takasagi far more than Jumbo. He could see what went on inside the guy’s head. Or he felt like he could. The man was the same type as Haruhiro. Observing. Considering. Researching. Studying. Refining. With hard work and repetition, he’d ascended to the realm of the masters. But he could go no further than that. He’d bashed his head against a wall, and Jumbo the orc was beyond that wall, in the place he couldn’t get to. He’d submitted to him, charmed by that transcendent prowess, and now worshiped the orc almost like a god.

Takasagi was fairly advanced, at least compared to Haruhiro and the party. But there was something decidedly normal about him still, hiding not quite out of view. Takasagi made good use of that inescapable mediocrity as he worked for Jumbo. Most people—no, almost all people—were mediocre, so in a group like Forgan there were going to be problems a superior man like Jumbo couldn’t resolve. Takasagi was doing more than enough to help the orc. It probably satisfied him. And you know what? Living that way is perfectly valid. Maybe it’s the only way that mediocre people can live.

Haruhiro understood that, which made him hate Takasagi all the more. Give him another decade, no, just five years, three even, and he’d be able to go beyond Takasagi. He could kill the man with his own two hands. Now, he wasn’t completely confident of that. But he also wasn’t convinced he couldn’t. That was what made it so frustrating. Being unable to do anything like this. Haruhiro resented his own weakness.

“Whoa, you moron—” Ranta shouted at Kuzaku. Haruhiro probably wasn’t one to talk, considering he was on the ground with a boot on his neck, but Ranta was sounding pretty weak.

“Damn you!” Kuzaku flung himself at Jumbo. Setora and Merry tried to stop him. But Kuzaku was too fast.

He was a good man. Better than anyone, that’s what Kuzaku was. Just a really swell guy. He was a normal dude, with his heart in the right place. It made him lovable. He was the adorable youngest member of the party, and a trusted comrade, one they could truly rely on. It wasn’t just that he was tall, he also had a high overall level of athletic ability. Haruhiro just wished he were a bit more clever. That is to say, underhanded and calculating. If he could move that big body around with more cunning, he’d become something really incredible. But even without that, Kuzaku had incredible bursts of power. If he gave his all, there wasn’t much that could stop him.

“Zwaaah!”

Kuzaku’s large katana swung too fast for Haruhiro’s eyes to follow. He could have cleaved through rock with that swing. It sliced its way into the thief’s heart as the most impressive Haruhiro had ever seen. A swing Kuzaku couldn’t have achieved without absolutely everything coming together perfectly. It was truly a once-in-a-lifetime slash.

Maybe it was even good enough to surprise Jumbo. That was the last thing they needed now. Why’d he have to show off such an amazing swing? Obviously Kuzaku was seriously pissed. He wouldn’t back down, even in the face of Jumbo’s transcendent nature. The orc was beyond them, in a place they could never reach, so anything he tried was going to be in vain. But Kuzaku hadn’t thought about that. He’d gotten emotional, as he was wont to do. He couldn’t let Jumbo get away with this. That’s all he was thinking. A very normal, very human reaction.

Jumbo drew his katana.

Swinging as he drew, the orc didn’t just deflect Kuzaku’s blade, he broke it in half. If he could have gotten out of the way without breaking it, he would have. This was Jumbo, after all.

Then, on the return, he swung his katana down diagonally.

He cut Kuzaku in a straight line from his left shoulder to his right hip.

Kuzaku.

Ohhh, Kuzaku.

You’re slipping.

Slipping along the line where he cut you.

You’re going to fall apart.

He cut you in two, Kuzaku.

“You bastard!” Setora flew into a rage. Calm, collected Setora. She really did care about Kuzaku, huh? Though she always acted like he was a pain, she still adored him. But was that all there was to it? This was Setora, after all. Maybe she was drawing attention so Haruhiro could do something? But what? What should he do? What could he do? Maybe Setora had just snapped and lost it after all.

Setora charged at Jumbo, throwing her spear. The orc batted it away with his left hand. By that point, Setora had drawn her sword and closed in on him.

“Ngh! Ah!”

Sharp as her swings were, they couldn’t even graze Jumbo. He danced around her with easy steps.

“This’s tough to watch,” Takasagi said with a laugh.

Why do I have to let this guy laugh at us? Haruhiro thought. The instant he did, Takasagi put his weight down on the thief’s throat. He wasn’t even free to breathe in his current state. Takasagi was reminding him of that.

“Damn it!” Ranta picked up his katana and was about to go help.

Takasagi wouldn’t allow that. He jumped, sinking his foot hard into Haruhiro’s throat as he did, and swung at Ranta.

Haruhiro was nearly knocked unconscious, so he didn’t see what happened at that exact moment, but Ranta’s face seemed to have a fresh wound on it.

“Ngah! Guh!”

What were Itsukushima and Yume doing? Was Haruhiro counting on them to do something? If so, he was probably barking up the wrong tree. Did Haruhiro even have the right to expect things from others when he’d been unable to do anything himself?

“Damn you!” Setora must have realized that she could swing that sword forever and it would do her no good. Wise as she was, there was no way she hadn’t figured it out. And yet, she couldn’t stop now. What else would she be able to do if she cast the sword aside? She couldn’t stop until she’d burned herself out completely. Oh, now he saw it. Someone needed to force her to stop.

“Ahhh!” Merry fell to the ground, gazing up to the sky. “Help... Help... Help...!”

“Enough,” Jumbo said, taking away Setora’s sword. He almost made it look like she’d given it to him.

“Kh!”

It didn’t stop Setora from continuing to attack. She grappled him from behind, wrapping both her arms around the orc’s neck as she tried to choke him out. She even attempted to bite Jumbo’s right ear. Where was this tenacity coming from? Why was Haruhiro giving up when Setora was still going that far?

“Stop.” Jumbo tossed aside the sword he’d taken from Setora, and reached back to put his left hand over her face in order to hold her back. Then, a moment later, he threw her.

“Agh! Kuh!”

As Setora immediately bounced back to her feet, the great black eagle descended on her.

The bird seized Setora’s head with its talons, flapping its wings to lift her off the ground a little. It then let go and immediately pinned her, pecking viciously.

“Uaghhhhhhhhhh!”

“Forgo!” Jumbo scolded the great black eagle, and it soon stopped feeding on Setora. Lifting off, it settled on Jumbo’s shoulder again.

Yume nocked an arrow, training it on Jumbo’s eagle. But her bow was shaking, no, swaying. She couldn’t shoot properly like that.

“She accepted me,” someone said.

Yume lowered her bow and looked off to the side.

At Merry.

Merry had been sitting. Not anymore. She was on her feet.

“It might not necessarily have been of her own free will, but since she was seeking aid, I had no choice but to answer her. I am here, but not by any design of my own.”

It...wasn’t Merry.

The way she spoke, the way she stood, everything about her was not Merry.

“Who...are you?” Haruhiro sat up. “What...are you?”

“I have no name. Only things people call me.”

The thing that looked like Merry, but was not, turned her head and looked around. She raised her chin, looking at things with down-turned eyes. He knew that was a habit of the thing that wasn’t Merry.

“Boss...” Takasagi bent his knees slightly, bracing himself. He seemed to sense something ominous.

“Mm.” What about Jumbo? He was as calm and self-possessed as ever. Or he looked that way, at least.

The thing that wasn’t Merry raised her right hand, and looked down at Merry’s palm.

“I simply became life at the end of a long process of trial and error.”

She slowly clenched her hand into a fist.

“I was not alive. I was something else, and yet I happened to take on the form of life, and to become life. That is what I am. I have a wish. For us to live together, forever. It was all I wished for, and yet I was hated. Or perhaps feared. The people called me...”

The No-Life King.

The name came to Haruhiro’s mind before the thing that wasn’t Merry could say it.

He’d suspected all along. That this was who it might have been. Okay, no, he hadn’t. But it was all too strange. Merry had died. Dead people don’t come back to life. And yet, she had. No, perhaps she hadn’t, not strictly speaking. Whatever this thing that people called the No-Life King was, it entered Merry’s body after her vital functions had ceased. Then it remade her dead cells. It was borrowing her body, so her memories and personality remained. But it might be that Merry was gone, and only the No-Life King remained.

No. It’s Merry.

Merry.

She came back to life.

Merry’s still alive.

The No-Life King had said, She accepted me.

That he had responded to her cries for help.

True, Merry had been saying, Help, over and over. Haruhiro hadn’t been able to do anything about it. At that point, Merry hadn’t even been looking at him. She’d turned to the No-Life King inside her for salvation. And the No-Life King had responded. That was why he was here.

So, what about Merry?

Where did she go?

Did Merry hand her body over to the No-Life King?

If she did, then where is she?

“Even though I am life itself...”

The No-Life King hung his head as he spoke. He wasn’t just looking down. His shoulders fell too. As if he were lamenting some great hurt and sadness.

“Humans said my existence was no life at all.”

“They called me a monster.”

“The humans were afraid. They didn’t try to accept me.”

“I wasn’t the one who sought conflict. The humans tried to destroy me.”

“If I have one fault, it is that I took Enad George as my vessel. The man who was king of the human nation of Arabakia. A fallen sovereign, betrayed by his friends and associates. That man found me when I had finally become life.”

“He was on the verge of death then. I tried to save him. He, too, accepted me.”

“I didn’t want to simply exist as life.”

“Enad did not want to die and have his memories and will vanish.”

“Our interests were aligned.”

“I became Enad, in a sense, and Enad became me in some ways too.”

“Enad resented the people who had rebelled against him, trying to slay him through subterfuge. He didn’t mean to kill them all, though. Enad was a king. He felt he should be welcomed as such in the nation he’d founded. Having learned the niceties of the human heart from Enad, I felt as though that might be expecting a little too much, but...”

What’s it talking about?

It wasn’t that Haruhiro didn’t understand what the No-Life King was saying. He remembered hearing the legend of the founding of the Kingdom of Arabakia, or something resembling its history, from Hiyomu.

Humans had once believed in a paradise called Arabakia. One man called Theodore George set out and settled in a bountiful land where he founded a country. His descendant, Enad, was the first king of Arabakia. However, King Enad fled after being betrayed by his close associate, Ishidua Zaemoon. No one knew where he’d gone.

Enad then became the No-Life King. Was that what had happened? Or perhaps Enad was the first living being, the first human, that the entity they would later come to call the No-Life King infested. The No-Life King had just referred to the man as a vessel. Perhaps by using the toppled king as a vessel, it had assumed the form and shape of the No-Life King, or something like that.

Why was the No-Life King talking about all this now?

Why were they all listening to the No-Life King tell his story?

Because it was a story worth hearing? Haruhiro couldn’t help but be interested. This was the No-Life King. His history was being revealed to them. And from his own mouth, at that. The mouth that belonged to Merry. On the outside, at least, he was Merry.

There was a strange tension in the air, an atmosphere that made it difficult to move.

No, this wasn’t a matter of the air. It was the sound. There was no sound. No chirping of birds, buzzing of insects, or rustling of leaves. This silence was abnormal. Was that why the air felt so tense?

“I wasn’t an enemy of humanity. Humanity decided I was their enemy.”

“Enad wanted to be the king of humanity.”

“I did not.”

“You humans have a word that felt more appropriate to me...”

Haruhiro had thought the No-Life King was just eloquently telling his story.

When did that change?

Haruhiro only noticed it now.

The No-Life King had bent his right elbow, turning the back of his hand downward. And his right hand was lightly balled into a fist.

Was it flowing out of his right wrist?

That thin, threadlike strand falling from Merry’s—the No-Life King’s right wrist, was it a liquid?

Was it blood?

“I wanted to be their friend.”

Suddenly, on Jumbo’s shoulder, Forgo spread his wings. The great black eagle started letting out shrill, discordant shrieks.

The No-Life King’s blood, the fluid that circulated inside Merry’s body, wasn’t what people would generally call blood at all. The blood-like substance that had come out of Jessie and entered Merry’s lifeless remains was something far more dreadful. It might even have been the No-Life King himself.

That was what the No-Life King was allowing to drip out of his body, albeit in small quantities.

What for?

What was the No-Life King trying to do?

“Gwah!”

Haruhiro hadn’t expected to hear Kuzaku’s voice. But it was Kuzaku.

Even though it couldn’t be.

Kuzaku had been cut down by Jumbo. Bisected. He was dead. Haruhiro didn’t want to accept it, so he’d tried to avert his eyes from the fact, but Kuzaku had died. Haruhiro had lost another comrade. One of his precious companions, someone who had been more to him than just a brother-in-arms.

“Gagh! Mwargh! Oaugh! Hah! Wahhhhh!”

Now Kuzaku was writhing in agony. How? Why? He shouldn’t have been able to move. There was no way he could have. But the fact was, Kuzaku was groaning and moving. His head jerked up and down, and his right arm flailed. No, it wasn’t just his head and right arm. His left arm and his legs too.

“No...way!” Had Ranta’s legs given out? Haruhiro was shocked too.

“The No-Life King...” Takasagi murmured.

The No-Life King was the king of the undying, but so what? What did that matter? This was crazy, wasn’t it? Kuzaku had been cut from his left shoulder to his right hip. Haruhiro couldn’t be completely sure, but didn’t that path slice through his heart? He must have died instantly. Cut in two. That’s what Kuzaku’s remains had been. He’d been split into two—the upper half, which included his right arm, and the lower half, which had his left. That was what should have happened. So why?

Why were they stuck back together?

“Warghhhh! Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!”

Kuzaku finally got up. He bent his knees, raising them off the ground, then, without putting his hands on the ground, he rose as if lifted by some unseen force.

“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh! Huh?”

Kuzaku inspected his wound with both hands. It had left massive bloodstains, of course, and not only had the wound Jumbo’d given him not vanished, it was still totally distinct. It was reddish black and writhing, bubbling, as the two sides connected.

“Ha ha!” Kuzaku started laughing. He shook his head, punched himself in the forehead, and tore at his own hair. He wrenched his neck back and forth, shoulders heaving.

“Ha ha hah! Wuh ha! Wa ha ha ha ha! Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! Gyah ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! Uh-hyuh! Fwoh ha ha ha ha! Dobyah ha ha! Bwah ha! Gwah ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!”

It was like something had broken inside him. What kind of laugh was that? He was howling like an idiot.

“Kuzakkun!” Yume shouted.

“Aha aha aha aha! Weh heh aha oho! Bwaha! Doh ha ha ha ha! Gweeheh hoh oho ho!”

Kuzaku wasn’t listening. Couldn’t he hear her? He covered his face with both hands, throwing his head backward as he kept on cackling. What was so funny? Had he gone funny in the head? If so, how could he laugh about it? Haruhiro was completely distracted by Kuzaku.

At some point Setora had risen to her feet as well. More than that, she was walking around.

“S-Setora?” Haruhiro’s voice trembled, cracking.

“Gee-hee! Eh hyah ha ha ha ha! Do-hee! Oo-hee ha ha ha! Goh ha! Zwee ah ha fwee hee hee!” Kuzaku was still laughing.

Setora was acting weird too. She was walking. Round and round and round, in an incredibly tight circle, maybe forty to fifty centimeters across, rapidly mumbling something under her breath as she went.

Forgo the great black eagle had made a meal of Setora’s face. He was a large bird. It looked like in the area from her right eye to her nose and upper lip, her skin, muscle, bone, and eyeball had taken extreme damage. It was a horrible thing to admit, but up until this point, Haruhiro hadn’t been able to tell how badly she’d been wounded, or if she was even alive. It was possible that Forgo had dealt Setora a lethal blow. Maybe she’d died, just like Kuzaku.

Her face was a horrible mess, but the damaged parts were covered in a reddish black substance. Haruhiro could only assume it was the exact same stuff that had stuck Kuzaku’s wounds back together, and was closing them up now.

“Noooo...” Yume collapsed. Itsukushima tried to support her, but they both ended up falling together.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve done this,” the No-Life King said, holding his right wrist with his left hand. “It will take time for them to adapt. I hope she will consider her wish granted with this. Unfortunately, it’s the only means available to me.”

“You...” Jumbo had his eagle Forgo take off, leveling his katana at the No-Life King. “What did you do?”

“I shared my blood with them.” The No-Life King lowered his eyes.

“Ohah! Oh ho fwoh ha ha! Go-hee! Gwee hee hee fwee! Ga hee ga hee ga hee! Gwoh ha ha ha!”

Kuzaku was laughing. Setora was walking around in circles.

“Unlike Enad, I hold no resentment toward humans. I had no intention of ruling over them. I wanted to be their friend. But they feared and hated me. Out of hostility, they tried to destroy me. I was forced to fight.” The No-Life King raised his face, or rather his chin, turning that usual downward gaze on Jumbo, on Takasagi, and on Haruhiro, Ranta, and Yume and Itsukushima in turn.

It wasn’t Merry. But it was. It wasn’t as if her voice had started echoing directly inside their heads, or her eyes were shining, or anything like that. It was still Merry, yet not. That’s why, even at this late stage, Haruhiro was still thinking, Is it really not Merry? Am I sure there hasn’t been some mistake?

Forgo shrieked noisily in the sky above. Haruhiro’s breathing was painfully shallow and hurried. He didn’t know how his lungs were managing to work so hard. His vision blurred. Something was off with his ears too. He kept hearing this low, heavy sound. Was it a sound? It could have been a vibration. That, or Haruhiro’s senses had all gone haywire. If he’d gone insane, could anyone really blame him? The whole situation was nuts. It’d be crazier if he didn’t go crazy.

But it wasn’t just Haruhiro. Jumbo and Takasagi, Ranta, and Yume and Itsukushima seemed to sense something too. Everyone was looking around here and there.

“It’s not only humans,” the No-Life King said, furrowing his brow. “The world hates me too.”

It was approaching. Something was. The thing Jumbo and Takasagi had sensed. Haruhiro sensed it too. He didn’t know what it was, but he could feel it. He had no choice but to. Where was it coming from? Any particular direction? He couldn’t be sure. Or rather, it was probably coming from all over. There was a buzzing. No, more of an NNNNNNNNNNNNNNN... It was a heavy sound, crushingly so. So low that no creature could make it. The vibration came from the front, the right, the left, the back. The low, heavy sound, or vibration, was surrounding them all. The net was closing.

“I am being rejected by the world. The sekaishu will try to remove me.”

That word. Sekaishu. Right. Sekaishu. From back then.

Black. He could see something black. Beyond the trees. Just black. Formless. A mass of black. It was coming. The sekaishu. Pressing toward them. They had to run. There was no fighting it. No resisting the sekaishu.

We’ve gotta run. To run and lose it. Let’s run. Run away. But where to? The sekaishu is closing in from all directions.

“Wa ha! Aha aha aha! Eheh heh heh! Ga ha ho! Gu-hee! Gya ha ha ha ha ha!”

Besides, they couldn’t run while Kuzaku was still laughing. Setora kept walking around and around in tight circles too.

“Boss, this is bad,” Takasagi said. Jumbo sheathed his katana and took off running, with Takasagi following him.

Haruhiro almost shouted, Wait. Where are you going? You’re going to run away? Do you think you can escape?

Don’t leave us behind.

The thief was shocked. He’d never been so disappointed in himself. He was trying to cling to Jumbo and Takasagi. There was no way they’d have helped him. They obviously had no obligation to.

“Kuzaku, hey, come on!” Ranta was trying to pull Kuzaku by the arm. Kuzaku didn’t shake free of the dread knight. He just got up close and laughed in Ranta’s face.

“Uweh heh heh! Guh ha! Bo ho fwah! Ahyah hyah hyah hyah hyah! Dohyeh hyeh heh!”

“This guy’s a lost cause!”

“Setoran! Hey, Setoran!” Yume was clinging to Setora, who simply tried to keep walking, unconcerned.

“Yume!” Itsukushima tried to pull Yume off Setora.

Haruhiro couldn’t do a thing. He should have been able to help Ranta or Yume. Why didn’t he? Why was he just watching?

The black things, black masses, black waves—the sekaishu was getting closer.

The No-Life King had said, The world hates me.

It clearly had no love for Haruhiro either.

Yeah, well, I hate it too.

He felt that keenly.

I hate it.

I hate the world.