Chapter 5:
Black Cat Saint
FORLUND AND I TALKED as we made our way to the palace.
Couldn’t the government just retroactively issue a quest for Urslars? I asked. Make it sound like they knew about the coup, and they commissioned him to take care of it, you know? It’d even protect their reputation.
That was how it worked with Fran and the Beastman Nation, but Forlund shook his head.
Perhaps it would work with someone else, replied Forlund. But things are different when it comes to that man.
Because of his Godsword?
Because he specializes in mass destruction. All of the stories about him involve chaos and slaughter. Of course, that’s commonplace on the battlefield, and there are many legends about heroes doing the same. But to actually hire Urslars…
It would make it sound like Granzell wanted to take advantage of his kingdom-crushing powers. Ordinarily, that wouldn’t be an issue—if any of the other countries asked, they could just say the wandering berserker happened to be in town and they hired him on the spot. But Granzell’s military already had to deal with the riots in Bulbola, and now there were riots in the capital. The last thing they wanted was to provoke a war. As long as the threat of Raydoss loomed in the north, they needed to maintain good relations with their neighbors.
Who knows what the kingdom would do with him? Forlund said. But Urslars has already made his decision. Turning himself in would likely cause problems for Granzell. It is the simpler if he just leaves quietly.
So that’s it, huh?
Unfortunately, yes.
Forlund and Urslars had probably already considered any solution I could think of. After all, Urslars had been doing this for decades. He knew how to best deal with the situation.
Personally, I didn’t think Urslars could be blamed for much of the destruction. I mean, he was basically fighting against a terrorist, capable of destroying the whole country.
Even if it was a force majeure, said Forlund. He did attack the palace and lay waste to the noble district. Like it or not, those are crimes.
I liked Urslars, so I was probably biased. Perhaps it would help me to understand if we had an example back in Japan…
Let’s say that one day, a terrorist in a giant robot attacked Tokyo. The JSDF was helpless to defend against its rockets and laser beams. Then, just as all hope seemed lost, another giant robot appeared to save the day! Robot Two defeated the terrorist bot, but it also destroyed the nearby districts and took hundreds of lives…
Yeah, that would be bad. Even if the pilot of Robot Two were on the side of humanity, some people would still throw rocks. The internet would burn him alive, and his supporters would be easily outnumbered by those who spoke against him.
Maybe I just couldn’t get it because I came from modern Japan, but this world was different. A true monarchy, with kings and nobles. With all that considered, perhaps leaving without a word really was the best course of action. Either way, Urslars was probably miles away by now, so there was use worrying about him.
Anyway, let’s see what I got from Cannibalize…whoa!
I couldn’t stifle my scream when I looked at my stats.
“Hrm?”
Sorry. It’s nothing.
“All right.”
I was a lot stronger than I’d expected. I had over 5000 MP—five times as much as before—and over 3000 durability. As broken as Fanatix was, it was still a Godsword. Perhaps this was the standard reward for Cannibalizing one.
But that wasn’t all. I also had a new skill, Mana Supply, which allowed me to share my mana with my user. While Fran already drew from my mana pool, this skill would further reduce the cost of casting spells, greatly increasing its efficiency. It was nothing fancy, but it was definitely useful.
Soon, we saw Count Bayreeds directing some refugees into a hall, along with Erianthe and Colbert. Fran’s aura was currently outside the capital, so it looked like Jet had managed to leave in time.
I would like to report to the count, said Forlund. Do you mind?
Not at all. You know Count Bayreeds?
I do. He is important to us adventurers. I’ve fought under his command several times.
I see. Go for it. I think you should tell him what happened, especially about Velmeria.
I didn’t know whether the city was completely safe, but with Fanatix destroyed, there was little reason to keep evacuating. More importantly, the count deserved to know what happened to his daughter.
When Forlund approached, Count Bayreeds was still in the middle of directing civilians. Erianthe was the first to notice Forlund, and she called out to him with a worried voice.
“Forlund, you’re alive!”
“Yes.”
After that, they all approached at once.
“So, what happened out there? It sounds like the fighting’s stopped, but…”
“It’s over.”
“Urslars won?”
“Yes.”
But Forlund was a man of so few words that it was difficult to give them a proper report. I ended up telling him what to say through telepathy. Fortunately, Fran had prepared me for that sort of thing.
“Urlslars won,” Forlund said, following my lead. “Marquis Aschtner is defeated, and the soldiers under his command self-destructed.”
Come on, you can do better than that! You’re just giving them bullet points!
It’s the best I can do. I’m not used to making long speeches.
I guess long sentences were too much for Forlund. At least he was trying.
“What happened to the girl Sir Urslars fought?” Bayreeds asked.
“He defeated her.”
Bayreeds swallowed. “I see.”
“And what about Urslars himself?” Erianthe asked.
“He left. To avoid complicating things.”
As much as I would love to tell the count the truth, there were too many ears here. I felt bad for making him think that his daughter was dead, but he would have to bear with it for now.
“Forlund?”
“You sure you’re all right?” Colbert said.
Meanwhile, Erianthe and Colbert looked perplexed at all the words coming out of Forlund’s mouth. This unusually talkative man was a strange sight for them. Still, he pressed on, telling the count everything we knew. With this newfound information, they regrouped to discuss the evacuation and clean up. I figured they should be able to take care of the situation now.
All right. Can you take me to Fran now, Forlund?
“Right.”
Forlund turned to walk away, but Erianthe stopped him.
“Wait! Where are you going? I was going to ask you to help.”
“Can’t.”
Forlund shook his head and removed me from his back.
“Fran needs this.”
Erianthe stared at me. “That sword…”
“What is it doing here?” Colbert asked in disbelief.
I couldn’t blame them. There wasn’t really a reasonable explanation for my being here!
Wait, I know! Forlund can tell them that Beloved of the Sword God—
But before Forlund could tell them my excuse, Colbert gazed toward the horizon.
“Master of Curry…you managed to protect Fran, in the end…”
Erianthe sniffled. “It is a miracle for his beloved student.”
They seemed to have had the wrong idea. I wanted to tell them how wrong they were, but I couldn’t afford to reveal my identity here. Forlund knew the truth, of course, but he kept his mouth shut, as was his style.
“……”
No excuses would come out of his lips.
“I’ll be going.”
“Of course,” said Erianthe. “Make sure you get that sword to her.”
Colbert held his tears. “Master of Curry…you were a blessing to the world!”
I appreciated the sentiment, I really did. But I wasn’t dead! I wasn’t a ghost on the battlefield! Still, Forlund left before I could clear things up with them. I’d need to get Fran to explain the situation later.
As we were on the way, I asked Forlund about something that had been on my mind.
So, what did you see when Beloved of the Sword God analyzed me?
Maybe I could recover a piece of my past life.
Forlund looked pensive. Usually, the skill reveals a sword’s maker and abilities. But this time, I saw a strange sight.
Strange how?
Something led a man to a sword that emitted an ominous aura. The sword resembled you, but it differed in its details.
Wh-what did it look like?
Its blade was exactly like yours, but the crest on the pommel was different. Instead of a wolf, it was of a four-faced woman.
The Godsword Cherubim. I didn’t know why it emitted an ominous aura, but the sword was deemed dangerous enough for the gods to discard it. So, the man in the scene had to be…
Wh-what did the man look like? I asked.
Hmm…
What’s wrong?
I only know he had black hair and black eyes. He was otherwise unimpressive. In fact, it was impressive how unimpressive he was.
I see…
It hurt…but now I knew for sure.
I think that was me.
You used to be human?
Yeah. I’m a human soul stuck inside a sword. But I have no idea who did this to me.
I knew the Godsmith Elmera was involved in making me, but maybe Forlund saw others in his vision.
What was it like? I asked. Tell me everything you saw.
You don’t remember?
Not a bit.
I see. Unfortunately, I couldn’t see much. My vision was hazy, like a mist hung over it.
I’ll take anything you could make out.
Well, the first thing I saw were three beings.
Three beings?
The fact that he said “beings” instead of people implied that these were gods or angels. It wasn’t a word you used lightly.
Strange visions only occur in analysis when a god, or their servants, are involved with the creation of a sword, Forlund explained. If the analysis fails, I see a vision of the sword’s creation instead.
And you saw all that when you picked me up?
Normally, Forlund didn’t have any visions; he just received the sword’s data straight into his brain.
The vision was transmitted to the back of my mind, so it was hazy. I saw you converse with these gods—or their messengers.
Could you hear what we were talking about?
No. I only saw that you were smiling.
The vision didn’t have audio. Still, this was the most I had discovered about my past so far.
Forlund told me everything he could about the vision. It took place in an undisclosed location with a strange white mist covering the ground and sky. Everyone there looked like they were floating in the air. The three beings were female, although their faces were veiled by shadow. They must’ve either been goddesses themselves, or their messengers.
I was brought before the sword, talked with them, and was eventually sealed inside it. Forlund said I was smiling, so I must have consented to the process.
And then a strange thing happened, he said. One of the goddesses placed her hand above you and extracted an image that hung in the air.
What kind of image was it?
I didn’t see you in it—just these gigantic square towers looming around whoever was watching. I think he was lying on the ground, and he must have been injured because there was blood on his body and his hands.
Were they memories of my death? I couldn’t quite remember what happened. All I knew was that I was run over by a car. When I woke up, I was a sword.
There was also a scene where the observer was looking at a beautiful woman, and one where he held hands with a younger girl.
Scratch that. Maybe these weren’t my memories at all. Then again, I couldn’t remember anything from my past life, so who knew?
Then he was watching a box where a naked man and woman—
Wait! Stop!
Okay, that sounded familiar. I felt embarrassment suddenly, but this was the only lead I had…
Sorry about that. Go on.
“Indeed.”
Forlund told me more about the image the goddess had summoned. There were memories of me eating, crying at a movie, being rejected by a woman. Also present were indecent and—let me be frank—lewd and sexual memories.
I couldn’t remember any of that. From what Forlund said, it sounded like the gods had taken those memories out of me. That had to be why I couldn’t remember anything when I arrived in this world. Forlund couldn’t tell me any other details, but if I was smiling when I was sealed inside the sword, I must’ve agreed to it. But why did I still have memories of my death when I had forgotten everything else?
And then I saw the seals.
Seals?
Symbols which represent the gods. Each god has their own, and the three women had these seals on their bodies.
Apparently, he could make out the seals of the Goddess of Chaos, the Goddess of the Silver Moon, and the Goddess of the Nether.
So, the ones who made me were either goddesses or their messengers?
Probably.
Maybe I should look into who they were. The only thing I knew about these goddesses were their names.
But you really are an amazing sword, said Forlund.
Yeah? I mean not to brag, but I am a discarded Godsword, so I guess I’m stronger than most.
Perhaps, but “Godsword” is bestowed with the powers of a single deity, and three goddesses bestowed their powers on you. This is unheard of. What in the world were you made for?
That’s what I’d like to know. Really. Who am I? What am I?
I don’t know who made me, or for what purpose. But the more I thought about it, the more afraid I was.
Ten minutes after we left Erianthe, I guided Forlund to Fran and the others at the capital’s outer walls, where the Adventurer’s Guild had evacuated their non-combatants.
Fran and Garrus were sleeping on mats laid out on the ground, while Eiworth was sitting next to them on a stool that I wondered where it had come from. A broken Fanatix replica was in his hand, and he was busy inspecting it. In his other hand was a bundle of documents that he referred to frequently. Some of the pages had drawings of the Fanatix replica on them, so they must have been related to his research. I hoped he would share what he learned with us later.
Should I just leave you here? Forlund asked.
Yeah. Thanks for everything.
Forlund placed me next to Fran.
Fran? Fran.
“Zzz…”
There was no response. Fran was still fast asleep. I Identified her and saw that nothing was physically wrong. She was just exhausted and needed to rest. Meanwhile, Forlund was explaining the situation to Eiworth.
Eiworth looked up at him. “Is that you, Hundred Blades? Is it over?”
“Yes.”
“I see. And how did it go? Did Friendly Fire win?”
“Yes.”
The old man showed his guile by asking Forlund simple yes or no questions. Stellia listened but didn’t interrupt. Forlund should be able to handle Eiworth.
Nice work, Jet.
Woof!
I commended our direwolf for a job well done. He let out a soft whine from the shadows, where he was lying next to Fran.
What is it? I asked. Are you still hurt?
Rumble. He was hungry. It was only natural. Jet hadn’t eaten anything the whole day. He did well not to take what he could in the chaos like a looter.
Oh, all right. Hide me from the others, boy.
“Arf!”
Jet leapt out of the shadows and created a curtain with Shadow Magic. When it was in place, I took out some extra spicy curry and placed it in front of him. Jet had earned it for protecting Fran while I was away.
Don’t spill it.
“Woof woof!”
“What was that?” Eiworth turned his head. “Now, where did that come from? From the shadows, given the presence of Shadow Magic…”
Fortunately, he didn’t suspect me of anything. Forlund did, but then again, he already knew about me.
“Arf arf!”
Jet’s maw turned red from the giant serving of super-hot curry and Fran stirred in her sleep. She sniffed the air, ears twitching, and finally opened her eyes slowly.
“Smells like curry,” she mumbled.
“Woof!”
“Jet…no fair…”
The smell of curry alone was enough to wake her up when nothing else would. It really did have a powerful hold on her. Or maybe it was just her appetite.
“Impossible,” Eiworth gawked. “My Awakening potion was supposed to keep her under for days…”
Days?!
Fran’s love for curry was great enough to cause a miracle.
“Teacher… Curry…”
Fran! There are people here!
Hm. Curry.
All right, all right. Here you go.
“Hm…”
I produced another giant serving of curry and placed it in front of her, careful to make it look like she’d taken it out of her own inventory. Her curry came with tonkatsu and karaage—popular breakfast items, as far as Fran was concerned. She moved the spoon sleepily to her mouth.
“Munch munch.”
“Ruff ruff.”
“Wh-what is it that you’re eating?” Eiworth asked.
He was staring at the spicy, strange-to-him dish with deep curiosity. For a man of science like Eiworth, this was a subject of great interest. He was also probably starving after that huge fight. Once he started sniffing the delectable aroma, he couldn’t ignore it for long.
“T-tell me. Is that good?”
“Hm. Really good.”
“Indeed?”
Fran turned away to avoid his gaze and shield her curry—intent on keeping it to herself.
Fran, maybe we should share a plate with him.
Hrm.
Come on, don’t pout. Eiworth helped us a lot today.
“Fine…”
Fran wasn’t happy about it, but she gave Eiworth a small serving. Small enough to confirm exactly how she felt about him.
“Here.”
“Excellent! Let’s see…” Eiworth inspected the curry, took a few whiffs, and dug right in. “Ah! How interesting! But delicious!”
He scarfed it down, showing exactly how sensitive his taste buds really were.
“Eight spices…no, nine? Broth made of pig monster bones. Four vegetables.”
And just like that, he reverse-engineered my recipe. Maybe it was because of all his work with potions. Either way, he could make a killing selling these now!
“Don’t worry, I won’t spread your recipe around,” he said. “But you won’t mind if I cook some for private consumption, will you?”
Eiworth was hooked. I couldn’t imagine this old man cooking curry in his kitchen, but Fran was happy to evangelize it. Meanwhile, Forlund was staring jealously at Eiworth, so we had to give him a portion too.
“Hm.”
“Thanks.”
A large plate. Forlund was definitely on Fran’s good list. He gave her a deep bow and started eating. He seemed to like it too, because he cleaned the whole plate in a flash.
As everyone was feasting, I filled Fran in on what happened while she was asleep.
Hrmph.
What’s wrong?
I was useless. Didn’t do anything.
It couldn’t be helped. Even Forlund had trouble looking for an opening against Velmeria.
Fran pouted. But you and Forlund still got to fight.
I paused for a moment. That was only because of Forlund’s special abilities. It’s a good thing he has them, but he still almost died out there.
Teacher…
What’s up?
Is Forlund strong?
Y-yeah.
Oh…
Was Fran jealous because I praised him? A whirlwind of emotions was certainly going through her. Disappointment at not fighting a powerful enemy. Powerlessness at not being able to help. Jealousy at my teaming up with Forlund. And finally, anxiety.
I’m weak… I couldn’t fight until the end. Not like Forlund…
She was comparing herself to him. I knew the feeling well. If Fran started comparing me to other Godswords, then I’d be uncomfortable too.
He’s trustworthy, and his telekinetic abilities are useful. That much is true.
Hm…
But you’re still the best for me, Fran. I lost count of all the times I wished you were there. I’m so much weaker without you.
You’re not weak!
I mean, I’m stronger than the average sword, sure. But I’m stronger when you’re with me. You understand me better than anyone, and you know how to use my powers best.
I wasn’t trying to console her. I’d thought about this a lot.
That’s why I need to get stronger. To become a sword that’s worthy of you.
Fran wanted to raise the status of Black Cats everywhere by breaking the curse and allowing all of them to Evolve. That meant that at some point, we had to fight an S-Threat Fiend—an enemy of titanic strength, like the ones I saw today.
For now, it was a distant dream. But I knew Fran wouldn’t give up. Besides, she still had some growing up to do, so I was sure that she’d make it one day. And, when that day came, I needed to be powerful enough to keep serving her. I’d gained a lot of mana from cannibalizing Fanatix, so I should get some new skills and train them up too.
We’re a lot stronger now, Fran. But we’ll have to keep going if we’re to beat every enemy we come across. You and me both.
Fran nodded. Hm.
I guess that was painfully obvious to her.
We’ll get stronger together, I told her.
Okay! So, do we start training?
Yep. I need more crystals, and you need EXP. Lots of it. Fortunately, I know the perfect place to train.
Where?
The place where it all began for me. The Demon Wolf’s Garden. I’ve always wanted to go back there. Might as well train while we’re at it.
Hm! I’ll get a lot stronger, she said. Then I can fight with you to the end!
But we would have to wait until things settled down in the capital.
Fran finished her curry while Eiworth and Forlund wrapped up their conversation.
“So Friendly Fire beat the count’s daughter, and now both of them are on the run to avoid complications?” Eiworth asked.
“Yes,” Forlund said.
“I see… Well, considering that Friendly Fire turned up, and the destruction was mostly in the noble district, I’d say we got off easy,” Eiworth said nonchalantly.
E-easy? Most of the noble district had been converted into vacant lots and there was a giant hole in the side of the palace! But Forlund seemed to agree.
“Urslars caused a lot of destruction.”
Eiworth scoffed. “And it could have been much worse. The whole capital could’ve been obliterated. Instead, only a single district was destroyed. It could have been a much larger area.”
The capital had managed to avoid the worst, but things were still really bad. Lots of people were wounded, and many more had lost their homes. No one but Eiworth could talk about it so nonchalantly without caring who heard.
Stellia sighed, her countenance grim. “I wonder what’s going to happen to the capital now. The coup caused a lot of chaos, and a lot of injured and dead too.”
Fran got up. Let’s go, Teacher.
Go where?
She had only just woken up. Did she really want to start training now? Even if she were conscious, she really needed her rest.
To save the wounded.
Fran’s spirit was still on fire, and she had recovered at least some of her mana while she was asleep. Now, she had a look of unwavering resolve.
Hmm…
But relief work was tiring—both physically and magically. It wasn’t a job for someone who was still recovering. But Fran wanted to help the wounded, and I wasn’t about to stop her as long as she was able to do it.
All right. Let’s head back to Erianthe’s.
That should be where most of the injured were. There were probably still plenty of wounded people out in the city, but the guild and knight brigade should be able to take care of that. There was one problem, however.
What should we do about Garrus…? I asked.
We’ll put him on top of Jet.
I don’t think that’s going to work.
Garrus was still weak and unconscious. We managed to evacuate him here, but moving him again would take its toll on his body.
“Hrm…”
“What is it, Fran?” Stellia asked.
“I want to go help the wounded, but I can’t leave Garrus here by himself.”
“Old Garrus is still beat up,” said Stellia, giving a worried sigh. “And who knows what’s going to happen once he wakes up…”
Could they really charge Garrus with something? He might have been manipulated with drugs, but he was still involved with the production of Fanatix replicas, and those things caused a lot of destruction. Would they consider the extenuating circumstances? Or would they immediately impose a heavy penalty on him? I was no expert in law and politics, so I had no idea.
“Anyway, your quest is still in effect,” said Stellia, “so the Adventurer’s Guild won’t abandon him. We’ll take care of him, I promise.”
“That’s right,” Forlund said.
Eiworth was nodding too. “The state won’t be so stupid as to punish him in the midst of so much chaos. And they’ll probably let him off easy so he can work for them.”
That was a good point.
“Besides,” he went on, “my employers want me to keep him safe, and I’m the only one who can deal with his withdrawal symptoms. So, you have nothing to fear.”
Fran, we don’t have to trust Eiworth, but we can trust Forlund and Stellia. Let the guild take care of Garrus.
Fran paused, silently glaring at Eiworth. “All right,” she said at last. “Take care of him for me, Stellia.”
“You got it. You get to helping everyone else.”
After that, we headed to Erianthe’s location and asked her where the injured were. There were several field hospitals where doctors, mages, and alchemists ran to and fro, helping the wounded as best they could. All of them looked exhausted, but they drank mana potions and chugged along.
Come on, Teacher!
Hang on. We have to talk to the one in charge first.
Okay.
If a child suddenly appeared and started healing patients, it would only cause confusion. Fran talked to the receptionist. When she told her that she could use Healing Magic, the receptionist brought Fran to see her superior.
A court doctor was overseeing this field hospital. They were experts, specializing in medicine, Healing Magic, and alchemy. Apparently, the king had ordered all of his court doctors aside from the head physician to aid the relief effort.
“Excuse me,” the receptionist said.
“Hrm? What happened now?”
“Nothing, sir. But this girl says she wants to help.”
“Oh? An adventurer, are you? Can you use Healing Magic?”
Fran nodded. “Hm.”
“Wonderful!” The man beamed. “We need all the healers we can get right now! What spells can you use?”
“Up to Greater Heal?”
“Wh-what? But that’s a Recovery spell. Are you sure?”
“Mm.”
“Even better!”
The court doctor had an air of professional pride, but rejoiced when he heard what Fran could do. He knew that this was now time for territorial bickering.
“Can you tend to the critically wounded first?” he asked. “We’ll get you all the mana potions you need.”
“Got it.”
We went around the field hospitals, healing all the patients we could. Although our battles had exhausted most of our mana, Cannibalizing Fanatix had filled me back up again, so Fran was able to heal patients so quickly that it surprised the court doctors. They were so worried that she would exhaust herself, so they kept pushing mana potions on her.
By the time we were done, we must have healed over five hundred people—including the ones we pulled from the rubble on our way to each field hospital. When they were stable, a lot of the patients stayed behind to help. Some even clasped their hands in prayer when they saw Fran again. She was acknowledged as the little Black Cat who risked her life to heal the wounded. Fran didn’t have time to talk to them, but she waved back casually.
Right to the end, her desire to help overwhelmed her exhaustion. She was happy that people were thanking her, but even happier that she could save them.
You sure you don’t need a break?
“Yeah!”
At midnight, Fran finally made her way back to the guild. She wanted to continue helping, but the court doctors insisted that she get some rest. The critically wounded were all taken care of, and there were plenty of people around to maintain the field hospitals. Fran no longer needed to push herself.
We helped a lot of people today.
“Hm!”
“Hey, you!”
As Fran was about to enter the guild, three men stepped out in front of her. I wondered what kind of chump would attack her without concealing their presence, but apparently they had business with her.
“You must be the Black Cat healer!” The small pudgy man in the center spoke with an arrogant voice. “You use your Healing Magic to heal the people, do you not?”
“Hm.”
“Then rejoice! I am here to make you a retainer for my barony! From now on, you will use your powers for my good!”
It was an invitation? Although, considering this guy’s attitude, I didn’t think anyone would be happy to accept it. The baron seemed a little less than noble.
“You’ve been healing all these people for free!” he said. “Well, you won’t have to stoop that low anymore! Nobles and merchants will pay handsomely for your services under me.”
“What do you mean?” Fran asked.
“I mean you are to heal whoever I tell you to heal and no one else! Many want a powerful healer, and they are willing to pay for it. Under me, you will get the highest price out of even the most hardened merchant. But rest assured, you will be compensated fairly.”
“And what about the people who can’t pay?”
“The poor? Ah, the world won’t miss them. With their empty wallets, they barely change the world at all!”
What an absolute idiot. He was trying to buy Fran out with money? If he had done his due diligence, he would’ve known that she refused to take any reward from her patients. What’s more, his “invitation” sounded more like a stuck-up command, and he didn’t even seem to notice it. If you looked up “idiot noble” in the dictionary, this man’s face would show right up. Even his bodyguards looked tired of his behavior, but the fool didn’t notice that either.
“You’ll never have to waste your time like you did today ever again.”
“……”
Fran’s anger was silently mounting. If all the noble did was make light of her with his invitation, she would’ve ignored it and gone along on her way. She was tired, and he wasn’t worth her time. But saying that the poor deserved to die really crossed the line.
I’m going to kill him, said Fran.
Wait! Stop! I understand, but you can’t kill him!
He said helping people was a waste of time. Everyone was so happy when I helped them. It meant they could help others…and he called that a waste!
This was very bad. Fran’s anger was reaching critical mass. She felt like this noble was tainting something she held dear. If he kept it up, she might really cut him down. Of course, he didn’t notice the change in her mood, but his guards were white as sheets. Weak as they were, they could feel Fran’s urge to kill. And, if anything happened to their master, they would be to blame. Either way, the future wasn’t looking bright for them. If I couldn’t stop Fran from killing this guy, then things would get complicated.
Looks like I’ll just have to use telekinesis and—
“Excuse me.”
“Hrm? Colbert?”
“Sorry, mister. But this girl’s under the employ of Count Bayreeds. If you want to recruit her, then you’ll have to ask him first.”
Oh yeah, I guess she is still under contract.
Formally speaking, Fran was working for House Bayreeds, and the baron backed off as soon as he heard the count’s name.
“What? Bayreeds…?”
“That’s right.”
“H-hah! I shall take personal responsibility for my actions!”
“So, you’re going to ignore the good count and recruit her anyway?” Colbert asked.
“Urgh…”
The baron and his guards were visibly distressed. He was insignificant compared to the count—one of the pillars of the kingdom. There would be no contest here.
The baron looked at his two guards and they shook their heads, faces pale. They should’ve been able to gauge how strong Colbert was. They probably recognized him the moment he stepped in.
“F-fine! A beastman is not worthy of my house anyway!”
And then the baron escaped in one piece.
“Looks like I came just in time,” said Colbert.
Fran paused. “Hm.”
“What? You don’t look too happy.”
“He got away.”
“Come on, Fran. You’re getting famous now. You’ll be seeing more and more of his kind soon enough. Are you just gonna beat all of them up?”
“No. I’ll cut them down.”
“No, dumbass! Then they’ll stick a bounty on your head! Just do your best to ignore them.”
That’s right, Colbert. Tell her what’s good for her. I’ll even overlook the fact that you called her a dumbass!
“Which reminds me,” he said. “I have business with you too. Message from the count. He says, ‘Sorry about the mess we’re in. Consider our contract concluded. However, if you need to refuse other nobles, feel free to use the name of House Bayreeds.’”
That was nice of him. Nobles would be sure to pester Fran as long as she was in the capital, but Count Bayreeds had enough influence to deflect their invitations.
“I’ll be on my way, then,” said Colbert. “I’ve still got work to do myself.”
“Hm.”
“And…I’m sorry about the Master of Curry.”
“?”
Oh, right. Colbert still thought I died during the battle with Velmeria.
“We lost a great man today…”
Fran, Colbert thinks I’m dead. Can you please tell him that I’m alive?
“Teacher’s not dead,” Fran said.
Colbert looked perplexed for a moment, and then nodded sagely.
“Yeah,” he said. “You’re right.”
“Hm.”
“As long as someone carries on his legacy, that man will never die.”
And so, the misunderstanding persisted, but Colbert left before Fran could clarify what she meant.
“Colbert was acting funny.”
We’ll have to set the record straight the next time we see him.
“Hm.”
With Colbert gone, we could finally enter the guild.
“Huh?”
But just as Fran was about to go in, she backed away—just in time to avoid something hurtling out of the door. Or rather, someone. He tumbled until he lay flat on the road.
“Uhh…”
He was an adventurer. C-Rank. Decently strong. He was unconscious, but not dead.
“G-Gareth! Are you all right?!”
A small, pudgy man chased after Gareth. Probably a friend and fellow adventurer. What was going on here?
“Murderous intent?” Fran muttered.
Fran’s sharpened senses told her that, whatever was inside the guild, it was dangerous. She readied herself.
An attack by the marquis’ remnants?
“Hm. I’m going in!”
Be careful!”
Fran reached carefully for the door.
“How dare you waste our precious time with this nonsense during an emergency like this! And while I’m hurting over the destruction of the theater! You’re lucky I didn’t kill you!”
It was Erianthe. She shouted ferociously at the unconscious man, looking quite demonic with her disheveled purple hair.
“What happened?” Fran asked.
“Fran? Sorry about that. I thought you were another one of those idiots.”
“The ones that just got kicked out?”
“Yes. What a waste of time they are!”
“What happened?”
“Listen to this—”
Still simmering with anger, Erianthe quickly rattled off an explanation. From what I could gather, the short fat man was named Desla, and he was the guildmaster of a post town not far from the capital. He managed adventurers, as well as supplies, and was otherwise a hardworking guildmaster. But he also coveted Erianthe’s position and was quite bitter that a woman had taken the spot. Whenever they met, he always disagreed with her, but this time he had gone too far. He blamed Erianthe for the current disaster, and tried to pressure her to resign. Not only that, but he also said that “women aren’t fit to be guildmaster” and “I feel sorry for your members,” among other things. He even brought a C-Rank adventurer along to intimidate her.
“Intimidate you?” Fran asked.
With a C-Rank? I mean Fran was a C-Rank, sure, but she was unusually powerful. The man Erianthe kicked out the door was a true C-Rank.
“They apparently thought that a former mercenary couldn’t handle herself,” Erianthe shouted, making sure the two men could hear her. “Well, they got that wrong!”
“What should we do with them, guildmaster?” one of her men asked.
He approached carefully. In fact, everyone in the guild was walking on eggshells, trying to avoid Erianthe’s wrath. It felt like the whole guild was holding its breath, but Erianthe waved her hand, dismissing her men. She had had her fill.
“Leave them be. We have no time for idiots who don’t know how to behave themselves in an emergency. He acts like a big shot, but the other guildmasters hate his guts. Once I make a report about this, he’ll get fired.”
“Uh-huh.”
Fran wasn’t interested, but she nodded along anyway. But her eyes were locked on the guildmaster’s hair.
“Why does your hair change color?” Fran asked.
Erianthe’s hair was usually blue, but it was purple in the battle earlier, and it was purple again now.
“Oh, this? It’s my combat color. You see it in insectoids sometimes. I guess I have the genes for it. It changes color when I’m feeling aggressive.”
Not all insectoids and their halflings had this feature, but then again, their characteristics varied wildly—even amongst halflings of the same type.
“Some people change during battle,” said Erianthe. “Others stay the same.”
“Like the mercenaries at the plaza?”
“That’s right.”
Robin the lobster and Hobbes the grasshopper both changed in a fight. Outside of battle, they looked mostly ordinary. Meanwhile, Effie the mayfly and Shingen the clam kept their insectoid features all the time, while Ann the bull ant always looked quite human.
“Are they your friends?” Fran asked.
“Yes… Old friends.”
I was sure they were the remnants of Erianthe’s old unit, and I really wanted to hear the story, but I knew we couldn’t press the issue.
Fran, you should tell her the truth about my supposed death.
“Erianthe, Teacher’s—”
But before Fran could finish, a man shouted from somewhere inside the guild.
“Guildmaster, a messenger eagle just came in!”
He came down from the second floor with a letter in hand. He’d crumpled it up a little in his excitement.
“Where’s it from?”
“Northern border. From the guildmaster of Alessa!”
“Is it something to do with Raydoss?!”
“Yes! A Raydoss scout unit crossed the border and clashed with Alessan knights.”
Now of all times?! Was Fanatix connected with Raydoss too?
“Go on!” said Erianthe. “What happened next?”
“R-right. With the help of B-Rank adventurer named Jean du Vix, the Raydoss threat was eliminated!”
Elated cheers erupted from the guild. Applause thundered through the halls. Everyone immediately accepted that the report was true. With the help of the knights, a single B-Rank had managed to turn the tide of battle and destroyed a squadron of Raydoss soldiers. This was no mere feat.
Erianthe sighed. “That’s Slaughterfield for you!”
I had almost forgotten about Jean’s grotesque nickname.
“Jean’s so strong.”
“That man’s as good as an A-Rank when it comes to dealing with armies. He could take down an actual strike team by himself. Scouts should be no problem.”
Apparently, the necromancer with the creepy laugh had saved Granzell. Jean’s necromancy definitely gave him the upper hand on the battlefield. His undead soldiers probably overwhelmed the Raydossian scouts.
“I’ll take this message to the king! Spread this news wherever you can! We could all use a lift right now!”
Erianthe’s subordinates followed her orders and left the guild to spread the word.
I guess the clarification of my death will have to wait…
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