Mahou Shoujo Ikusei Keikaku - Volume 11 - Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

A NOSTALGIC GIFT

  Pfle

As Pfle approached with a raised hand and a “Hey,” the mage with the glasses—Mana—drew her eyebrows together with an exasperated expression, shoulders slumping as she sighed.

“If you’re going to disappear, then please say so,” Mana said. “You are aware how bad things got, aren’t you?”

“I am, believe it or not, the head of a department. I have a lot of instructions to give my staff. And besides, you seemed busy as well. I couldn’t help but have reservations. I wondered if it was best to speak with you. That’s all. I have no intention of making it an issue of your responsibility, so you have no need to worry.”

“Responsibility doesn’t have a damn thing to do with this. I haven’t raised your issue to the higher-ups yet. To the Inspection Department, you’re a guest. And besides, I’m here because of the Osk Faction’s unreasonable demands. This is entirely at my own discretion. That’s why I haven’t brought any subordinates.”

“Why?”

“If I submitted this issue where I should be submitting it, they would definitely waste a whole day on the meeting alone. I wouldn’t be surprised if this whole thing was over in under twenty-four hours. So then it’s better to have some agility and keep personnel to a minimum. As it is…” Shifting her gaze from behind her glasses, she looked at Uluru, standing at her side. “I’ve already been saddled with more hassle.”

“Did you just call Uluru a hassle?”

Mana totally ignored Uluru, who was puffing up her cheeks in a pout beside her. When Pfle had sneaked away from them before, they’d been yelling at each other, and it seemed they’d never patched things up.

“I want you to save Snow White, pon!” A hologram rose up from the magical phone Uluru pulled out of her pocket.

“My,” Pfle said in surprise. “I heard your voice in the vehicle. I didn’t expect you were actually here.”

“It’s been a long time, pon, Pfle.”

“Indeed… It’s been quite some time, Fal.”

It seemed Fal was utterly disinterested in exchanging pleasantries with Pfle. Not at all touching on Pfle’s presence there, Fal continued, “About Snow White, pon. Fal can sense Snow White’s vital signs, pon. You can just think of it as Fal can basically get an idea of how she’s doing right now, pon.”

Pfle had heard that Fal was a cyber fairy that had been modified by Keek’s magic. Back when they had been interacting daily in the game, she hadn’t been made aware of it, but Fal had to have functions that most would not.

“Is your master the Magical-Girl Hunter, Snow White?” Pfle asked.

“That’s where you’re going to start this discussion, pon? She is, but that’s not what Fal wants to talk about now, pon.”

“Yeah.” Uluru butted in from the side, leaning way forward to move her face close to Fal. “Uluru said before, right? That when Uluru went looking for Snow White’s things like she said, they all chased after. The timing was way too perfect. It just had to be that Snow White told.”

“There’s no reason for Snow White to report you, pon.”

“Uluru knows that. That’s not what Uluru’s trying to say, okay?”

Fal somersaulted in the air, paused, and spun again. Gold and green scales scattered around, and Uluru coughed and moved her face away. Even knowing it was a hologram, she reacted automatically.

“Snow White’s vitals are calm, pon. No particular physical or mental problems, which is the one thing Fal is relieved about, pon.”

“So then what’s the matter?” Pfle asked.

“Fal’s not done, pon. It’s weird that Snow White feels nothing wrong mentally, pon. In fact, she’s feeling happy and having fun, pon. That’s impossible, pon. She must have had some spell cast on her, pon.”

“See, it’s just as Uluru said after all.”

Fal ignored Uluru.

“You’re saying she’s being controlled by Puk Puck?” said Pfle.

“That’s what Fal is saying, pon,” Fal replied, and this time, Mana was the one to jump in.

“So then…why didn’t you say earlier?”

“It wouldn’t be smart to talk about Snow White before getting a basic grasp on the situation, not knowing who’s friend and who’s foe, pon. The things that Fal can do without a master are limited, pon. Telling an enemy these things by accident would leave Fal helpless to do anything about it, pon,” the mascot replied.

Mana didn’t criticize Fal after that. She fell silent with a bitter expression on her face. Like Fal, she was also probably having a hard time judging who was friend and who was foe.

Pfle tilted her head to one side and cracked her neck. Perhaps because the air was dry, it made a more satisfying pop than usual. “I’ve heard they’re holding a ceremony to activate an ancient magical device… Is that something Snow White’s magic would be useful for? Well, they could well be using her in some way I couldn’t imagine, but it seems to me they could put her to better use in other ways.”

Mana glumly nodded, and Pfle nodded as well. “Chief of Security, perhaps,” Pfle went on. “With a title like Magical-Girl Hunter, it may be better to have her on offense rather than defense… Regardless, she’ll be a fearsome foe.”

As long as Puk Puck existed, the list of enemies would continue to increase. With the nickname of Magical-Girl Hunter, Snow White would most certainly be a strong opponent. Pfle ran her tongue over her upper lip to moisten it. It was just about dry to the point of cracking.

“A foe, pon? If you run into her, will you kill her, pon?” Fal somersaulted in the air, scattering enough scales to cover his whole image. Eventually the scales faded and disappeared, and Pfle could see the wavering image of the mascot floating there.

At the same time, Uluru leaned forward, moving her face close to the cyber fairy. “Uluru’s job with Snow White still isn’t done. We’ve still got work to do, so Uluru might punch her, but Uluru won’t kill her. Probably.”

Mana sighed. She looked resigned. “Sorry, but I can’t help you. There’s nothing I can do within my department, either. If there’s something going on with Snow White, then that’s her responsibility.”

Mana’s remark made Uluru flare up at her, saying, “That’s awful!” while Mana turned away, saying, “That’s just how it is.” It would be difficult for Mana to intervene in this matter. She couldn’t invest effort in saving a single employee.

Unless they were specially configured, cyber fairies would not have expressions. For that reason, it could be more difficult to read their mental states than those of humans. But there were elements unique to them, such as inflection, tone of voice, movement of wings, scale output, etc. Fal was of the type that was fairly easy to understand. Were such differences due to the age of the program or the individual unit, or were they up to the master?

Fal was sincerely worried about Snow White, but there was no reason for Pfle to make concessions here. Just as Fal was worried about Snow White, Pfle’s number one priority was Mamori Totoyama.

“I have high hopes for your efforts,” said Pfle. “I…yes, I will be praying for Snow White’s safety.”

“Hold on, pon. You’re praying, pon?”

Suddenly, she found Fal, Uluru, and Mana all looking at her. “What do you want from me? You’re saying prayers alone aren’t sufficient?”

“Please, pon. I want you to tell the higher-ups not to kill Snow White, pon.”

“They’ve been on edge since before the killing began. I may be acting as coconspirator, but functionally, I’m no more than an underling. I’m not in a position to offer opinions.”

Pfle had already made a “request” regarding Shadow Gale. She couldn’t add saving Snow White on top of that. It would not only put her in a position to be taken advantage of, but it would also place her too deeply in the enemy’s debt. It wasn’t as if it was totally out of her reach, and Fal would have gotten a sense of that. But Pfle had no reason to compromise that far for the mascot’s sake. Shadow Gale, who was wielding a wrench on the device, was one thing, but Snow White was raising weapons against the Osk Faction, and the difficulty level of the ask to not kill her was completely different.

“And so I will be praying for her safety only,” said Pfle. “I cannot do any more than that.”

Static ran through Fal’s hologram, and it blurred for a second. Pfle turned her wheelchair 180 degrees, turning her back to Fal, Uluru, and Mana. “I apologize, Miss Mana, but I will take my leave. Understand that sometimes, surrendering yourself can turn out like this. We’re at war, after all, and I’m very occupied with the many tasks to be done.”

“Wait, pon.”

Pfle moved her wheelchair onward. There was little reason for her to wait. Her list of things to do was piling up.

“Wait, pon!”

“Wait up! Listen to what Fal has to say!”

Fal and Uluru could yell at her together, but it wouldn’t make a difference. Pfle moved her wheelchair onward.

“Couldn’t the two of us…talk in private, pon?”

Pfle stopped her wheelchair and turned back.

Uluru looked at Fal. Mana looked at Fal, too. Pfle, of course, was also looking at Fal. Fal stirred uncomfortably under the eyes of the three girls.

  Uluru

“Who was that just now?” Uluru asked.

“The head of the Magical Girl Resources Department,” Mana replied. “She was the one talking up a storm at you through the magical phone in the car before.”

“Ahh, her, huh? Now that you mention it, I guess their voices were the same.”

“That’s not something you need to worry about in the first place.”

“Oh, there you go again. If she’s someone important, though, Uluru has to go greet her properly, too, though.”

“She’s not important at all—a good-for-nothing of a boss.”

This mage named Mana seemed even more childish than Uluru. Uluru was fully aware that a mage’s looks were as deceiving as those of a magical girl. There were just as many mages as magical girls among those who served the Three Sages, and Uluru had also heard some even lived to incredible ages like hundreds or thousands of years like it was normal.

But she figured Mana might not be so much older than she looked. The way she would snap at important people was proof that she was a child. Uluru also thought Mana made attempts to belittle her because she was a child.

Hence why Uluru asked, “What’re you here for?”

Mana must have understood that she was under attack. She was already irritated to begin with, and when Uluru hit the nail on the head like that, Mana got this look on her face like she was ready to smack her as she spat, “I’m here to catch the bad guys.”

“Not to stop the ceremony, like everyone else is saying?”

“If we catch the bad guys, that will put a stop to the ceremony, too.”

“You’re not thinking about this at all.”

“I’m thinking about it more than you.”

Uluru felt ready to snap. Her own nail was getting hit hard on the head. Unlike the other magical girls, Uluru had not been proactively trying to stop the ceremony. Once she’d gotten away from Puk Puck, she’d thought, “Maybe she was a really terrifying person.” She’d easily accepted that Snow White was being controlled, and that fact confused her. She was thinking that Puk Puck actually was capable of that and maybe the ceremony was trying to accomplish something horrifying. Now she could kind of understand Sachiko’s desire to escape.

But still, if the question was if it was okay to join an opposing force to try to stop Puk Puck, then she wasn’t so sure anymore. It was still a fact that Puk Puck had done so much for Uluru and her sisters. At this point, Uluru had become something she would never have even considered before—a traitor.

She didn’t want to think about that stuff, so she focused on a goal that was easier to think about: getting Snow White back and taking Pythie Frederica down with her.

Uluru couldn’t argue against Mana. So she sulked. “You’re always making fun of Uluru like that.”

“I’m not making fun of you at all. It’s weird that you’re even here in the first place.”

Uluru started to say something, mouth half-open as she searched for the words, looking at Mana. She was aware that she was hanging in limbo. But she still didn’t know what she should do. She wanted to save Snow White. She wanted to keep her promise. She didn’t want them to use the contract Sachiko had left. But she didn’t want to go against Puk Puck, either. Even saying that, though, she didn’t feel like she wanted to follow Puk Puck no matter what. Uluru’s mouth closed on its own.

After waffling and worrying, she opened her mouth again, thinking she just had to say something. “Of course Uluru is here. Uluru’s getting revenge. And Uluru needs Snow White for that, too. Since Snow White is getting back at the same person. Frederica is a really bad person, right? If you’re with Inspection, don’t you know that?”

Mana’s eyes widened, and she showed Uluru a frightening openmouthed expression with her teeth bared. Uluru privately panicked, wondering if she’d said something to make her mad, so she puffed herself up particularly large to keep from showing that fear. “What?”

“Did you say Frederica?”

“Oh, so you know about her, after all? She’s a real bad person.”

“Yeah…she is. I know. Too well…” Touching her fist to her jaw, Mana looked down. She was muttering something under her breath.

“Hey. What’s wrong? Have you gone crazy?”

“I’ll help you, too.”

“What?”

“I’ll help you take down Frederica.”

“Huh? …Uh, well…thanks? Um, explain it so that Uluru can understand. Maybe you think it’s fine as long as you understand, but that doesn’t work out in the real world. You get it? Even Uluru has messed up before for reasons like that, and got taught by others, until finally—”

“Can you hear me? Can you hear me…? This is Hamuel.”

Uluru automatically looked around and saw a bunch of other people doing the same thing. She didn’t see anyone who might be the source of the voice.

“I am sending my voice to all of you directly via magic. This is neither an auditory hallucination nor madness, so don’t worry. Now then, we’re finally heading into the ravine to launch our attack. We can anticipate that this will be far more dangerous than it has been thus far. You cannot be setting up seats for yourselves to observe from a distance. I would hope that you consider anyplace you might stand as part of the battlefield. It’s unfeasible to be protecting you all while fighting in such an environment, and the odds that our efforts will fail to bear fruit and end in vain are not at all insignificant. And so here we will be parting ways with all noncombat personnel—”

There was murmuring all around. Here and there, Uluru could see some briskly readying themselves to leave. Uluru had no intention of turning back now. Maybe whatever she did now would just be going halfway, and she really hated that she was here because she had no choice, left with no place to go after being chased out of the estate, but still, even then, when she thought of Sachiko, when Sorami rose in her mind, she lost the desire to flee.

Mana still seemed to be mulling something over. Her indecisiveness was causing problems for Uluru. There was no way for them to run now—there wasn’t even a road back. They had no choice but to keep going.

Uluru was about to yell at her, but right before she could, Mana looked up. “You said Snow White is trying to take down Frederica, too, right?”

“Huh? Um. Yeah.”

“So then she’s necessary personnel, too. We’re saving her.”

“Well, okay, then? Huh?”

Mana started walking toward the magical girl in the wheelchair. Flustered, Uluru chased after her.

  Shadow Gale

The magical girls who served Puk Puck were the chosen ones. But since any one person couldn’t be the sole individual serving her, there was also competition among her devotees. Everyone who followed Lady Puk Puck wanted to be the most useful to her, but it wasn’t as if every single one of them could serve her as ideally as they wanted. They were all thinking something like, If I could, I’d like to sabotage the others so I’d be the only one to serve her, but that would make Lady Puk sad, and being the only one serving her would just be too much work anyway, so oh well, I guess it’s fine if the others get the right to work by her side, too.

Even Shadow Gale, who hadn’t been serving Puk Puck long, could sense this. Though her colleagues were allies, comrades, and rivals, they were not friends.

However, in a crisis, they ignored their usual squabbles and joined hands in cooperation. That was what Puk Puck wanted, and those who would work for Puk Puck’s sake had to make sure their contributions were as big as possible. And so the drive for synergy would be their weapon to carve a new path.

In order to activate the device, first, they had to peel off the talismans that sealed it. There were magical paper talismans stuck all over the surface of the device that would put to sleep anyone who looked at, touched, or approached it. What to do about this troublesome obstacle? Following the instructions Puk Puck had written up for them, the magical girls went to work.

First, they balled up paper and smashed rocks to make garbage. Putting glue on the trash they’d created, they threw it from far enough that the talismans’ effects didn’t reach them. The paper garbage and rock bits stuck to the device, and then, using “magic to shoot ink,” they turned the whole thing into a mess. Then they tied a “magic sponge that can clean anything” at the end of a long stick to clear away all the mess, the talismans along with it, since the magic perceived them as being part of the garbage.

This made the device squeaky clean. But all this was just to get the talismans off, and it took a lot of time.

And there was only one thing that made them happy as they worked.

“You guys are all working so hard!”

That thing was Puk Puck coming in to check on their progress. And she brought a pot of cookies for them to enjoy as they worked, too. The girls’ faces had been growing dim, but now they sparkled, smiles unfurling like blooming flowers, and each one of them took a cookie, saying, “Thank you so much, thank you so much,” as they sincerely relished them. Magical girls didn’t require sugar to power their brains, but it was soothing for them to eat the cookies Puk Puck had brought with her. Their work became more efficient, and the wheels of their labor spun faster, ticking out an even more precise rhythm.

However, it wasn’t nothing but happy things. There were also sad things.

“Sorry, guys. Puk has other work to go do now.”

She said she wouldn’t be coming back for the time being. Shadow Gale was saddened. But if she let that show on her face, Puk Puck would be sad, too. If I cry now, they’ll laugh at me, she thought to encourage herself, and, putting on a smile, she watched Puk Puck go.

After Puk Puck left, it was back to work, work, and more work.

  Pfle

Dark Cutie and Princess Deluge were sitting in the tent and facing away from each other. Dark Cutie was holding her knees and staring at the ground, while Deluge was cross-legged and looking toward the entrance. Nevertheless, it seemed they’d had some kind of conversation. Pfle had heard murmuring voices from outside the tent.

“Pardon me,” said Pfle. “I’ll be using this for a bit. There’s no other place I can get some privacy.”

Dark Cutie stood and went by Pfle toward the entrance, and was about to leave when Pfle called out to her, “Could you stand at the entrance to keep anyone from coming inside, Dark Cutie?”

There was no use expecting Dark Cutie to make inferences about what to do, but if you gave explicit orders, she’d do the job. With a slight movement of her head, Dark Cutie left the tent. That head movement was probably a nod. She wasn’t the type to consider that Pfle wouldn’t be able to tell what it was from behind.

“I’m very sorry, but could you also step out?” Pfle said to Deluge.

Deluge didn’t reply, glaring back at Pfle, but eventually she stood up resignedly and exited the tent.

Pfle laid her magical phone on her lap and turned it on. The hologram that appeared there looked all around restlessly, and then, after making sure there was no one around, turned to Pfle.

“Fal can sense a magical girl outside, pon.”

“That’s our watch. She won’t be listening. Anyway, didn’t you have something to tell me?”

The mascot’s hologram flapped its wings a few times, rising to a higher position, then stopped flapping, dropping down. It seemed those wings were moving slightly more sluggishly than before.

“Please, pon. Fal wants you to save Snow White, pon.”

“You said that earlier.”

“It doesn’t matter what happens to Fal, pon.”

“You didn’t say that, but I could figure it out.”

The two of them eyed each other for a while. Pfle did feel some sympathy. Both Fal and Pfle were among proper magical girls fighting for a just cause, while each of them operated for the sake of one individual they personally wanted to save. And so she was sympathetic, but Pfle would step on even someone she sympathized with for the sake of her goal. That was who she was now.

“So then get on with it,” said Pfle. “You had something to say, didn’t you?”

“Snow White gave Fal something to hold on to, pon.”

“Oh?”

“To be honest, Fal is angry, pon. Fal knows that Snow White really agonized over and thought hard about her decision to entrust this to Fal, but Fal thinks this whole thing was unacceptable, pon. Making it like your wrongs had never happened and then shoving it all onto Snow White, who had nothing to do with it, and then saying, ‘I’m just going to not know anything and live a normal life!’ doesn’t work, and it’s because it actually didn’t work that things have wound up like this, pon.”

“As I asked before: What is it she entrusted to you?”

“Your memories, pon.”

Pfle had anticipated this somewhat, and now things were all coming together. She was fairly satisfied, but she didn’t show it. Keeping her expression entirely serious, she prompted Fal to continue. “And so?”

“Though you shouldn’t actually be getting this, Fal is making the arbitrary decision to give it to you, pon. Like Fal just said, Fal doesn’t like the way things have gone with this, but even without all that thinks it’s best to give it back, pon. You getting your memories back has got to be the best way to make things work out, pon.”

“I think that’s a wise decision.” Pfle meant to say that without any sarcasm, but perhaps it had been taken as such. Fal somersaulted three times in the air, scattering scales. Since it was naturally darker inside the tent than out, the faint rays of light slanting in made the wafting dust slightly visible, and it mixed with the scales of the hologram to give off the impression of even more scattering.

“In exchange for returning your memories, Fal wants you to promise you’ll save Snow White, pon.”

“A verbal promise is enough?”

“Fal will believe in you, pon.”

Pfle’s eyes widened ever so slightly, and a peaceful smile rose to her lips. Just how many people could say to Pfle that they trusted her, these days? Thinking about it now, this cyber fairy had been like this back in the game, too. Fal believed in magical girls.

Pfle gave it a clear nod. “So be it. I will promise. However, my highest priority is elsewhere. Don’t forget that Snow White is ultimately number two.”

“Fal knows, pon. The one you want to save is Shadow Gale, pon?”

Pfle laid her right middle finger over her lips. Letting out a breath, she felt her middle finger was slightly damp. “…What makes you think that?”

“Fal was there, too, when you got smacked in the face with a wrench, pon.”

“Ohh, I see. Now that you mention it, yes.” She remembered that Fal would also have heard her confession that she would do anything for Shadow Gale. It was quite astounding for him to declare trust in her after hearing that. Actually, perhaps it was hearing that that had enabled the cyber fairy to trust her?

“Take off the battery cover on this magical phone, pon.”

Turning it over as instructed, Pfle removed the battery cover. The battery that should have been there was absent, and a single candy that glowed a rainbow of colors rolled into her palm. She plucked it up in her fingers, raising it to the light. The reflections under the light didn’t stay the same color for even an instant. The hues flowed and transformed, beautiful, but also eerie.

“It looks similar,” Pfle muttered, turning her face to the tent entrance. To be precise, she was turning toward where Deluge had left from the entrance of the tent. This candy looked just like the ones Bluebell had been giving her, the ones she’d been sucking on.

“What’s wrong, pon?”

“You don’t have to worry about it. More importantly, your magical phone can run without batteries?”

“Now that’s something you don’t have to worry about, pon. Even Fal doesn’t understand everything about Fal, pon.”

“Well, I suppose so. So I think I have an idea of it, but what would you have me do with this?”

“Put it in your mouth and let it dissolve, pon.”

Pfle put the candy on her tongue. Almost an inch wide, the candy was a bit large. It felt slightly uncomfortable as Pfle put it in her mouth, but even before her saliva had covered it, there was a bubbling sensation as the candy melted and was quickly gone.

“I see. How convenient,” Pfle mused.

“Do you understand now, pon?”

Her memories were already back. There was no sense of discomfort or of accomplishment. They’d returned as easily as if they’d been there to begin with and were revealing themselves. Her one good eye dropped to her right hand, and she squeezed her hand tight. She’d had a similar experience once before. That had been inside the game, where Fal had taken on the role of guide. Back then, she’d been forced to clean up the vomit. She still remembered it clearly.

Raising her chin, Pfle looked at Fal. “You know all about these memories as well?”

“I just know what Snow White learned from hearing the voice of Shadow Gale’s heart, pon.”

“I see… Not like this is new to me, but I was really up to quite a lot, hmm?”

Fal didn’t reply. He somersaulted instead. Perhaps he had been about to comment but then decided to say nothing, out of consideration.

“I will save Shadow Gale.” The words fell naturally from Pfle’s lips, and she lifted her chin automatically. Fal was giving her his usual expressionless look. “Of course, I will also save Snow White.”

“Naturally, pon. It’s a promise, pon.”

“It seems that honesty just slips right out when I’m with you, unfortunately.”

“You don’t seem honest to me, pon…”

“Comparatively honest.”

Pfle put the battery cover back on the magical phone. Whether there was a battery in there or not, it was best to put something like this back in its place. Just like her memories.

Then there were throat-clearing sounds at the entrance to the tent.

“May I come in?” asked Dark Cutie.

“Oh, you were knocking,” Pfle replied. “What is it, Dark Cutie? Has something happened?”

“Glassianne says there’s something she wants to talk about.”

“Show her in.”

Glassianne walked into the tent with heavy steps, her expression glum. Expression aside, her slumped shoulders, bent back, hanging arms, her whole body expressed weariness with her job, and she wasn’t trying to hide that from her employer, Pfle, either. Though she’d never had a disposition you could call hardworking, she’d never been this bad before. Not only was the job bigger than usual, Micchan, who’d lightened the load for Glassianne, was now gone. Both things would be making her more tired. She was surely bursting with the desire to go back to her shop and bake some cakes.

But still, Pfle couldn’t have her go yet. No matter who else Pfle brought in, Glassianne was irreplaceable.

“What happened?” Pfle asked her.

“Um, someone from the Inspection Department, plus that girl who came from Puk Puck’s estate… What was her name again? You know, the lying one. There are card soldiers keeping watch on them. Ace of clubs rank, and three of them. They’re keeping a pretty tight watch on the two of them.”

“Well enough that no one but you would be able to find them?”

“Yeah, I figure.”

“By the way, do you know where Deluge went?”

“Huh? No… Should I look for her?”

“No, it’s fine. She’ll be back soon regardless.”

That three aces of clubs had been assigned to watch them was a big deal. It was fair to see diverting that many fighters to them as something you couldn’t explain away. But choosing to simply put a watch on them was a move that left room for negotiation. It showed a level of intellect, and took for granted the obvious considerations: to avoid creating enemies as much as possible, to avoid making a public deal of things and having everyone know, to avoid them getting violent.

“Glassianne,” said Pfle.

“Yeah?”

“Borrow a free tent to rest in. You’re allowed to have a nap. I think it will be loud, but worst case, you can use earplugs. There are the ones that Micchan left, aren’t there?”

“Is it okay for me to sleep? There was just that announcement that we’re heading into the ravine now, though.”

“Either way, you don’t belong on the battlefield. Dark Cutie, look for Deluge and bring her here. I have business with her.”

“Right.”

“Fal, I’m sure there’s more you want to say, but you’ll have to bear with me a little longer.”

“Where are you going, pon?”

“To the bad guys.”

  CQ Angel Hamuel

“How do I look, eh?”

“…What do you mean by that?”

Lethe raised her right hand to stop the two hearts who were fanning her. The wind had made her headdress slide a bit sideways, and she prodded it to adjust it. Her riding a palanquin meant that many eyes gathered on her, so perhaps that was why she was worrying more about her appearance than before. Hamuel was in a constant state of anxiety, thinking, Standing out like this, who knows when we’ll be attacked!

“There’s a lack of play,” said Lethe.

“Right,” said Hamuel. “Play. But this is a serious place of battle, you know? Isn’t it obvious there’s no play?”

“It’s in situations where one must not play that Puk Puck makes a show of having fun and playing, eh. That’s the sort of magical girl she is. That means that us also choosing not to attack seriously, slowly and gradually investing forces, only to throw everything at the enemy the moment before they think, Oh, we’re too late…is no longer an option.”

“Oh, was that your intention?”

“Would I have allowed those VIP seats to be made if it weren’t?”

Hamuel couldn’t say, I don’t know just how detached from the real world you are, so I didn’t know what your view was. “I have my hands full simply managing the work I’ve been given. I couldn’t possibly consider that as well.”

“Your modesty looks rather not like modesty, but flattery.”

“You jest.”

“And as flattery, it’s so transparent, I more often assume it’s a sort of sarcasm.”

“Well, I—”

“Is it actually that, eh?”

“Please let me off the hook here.”

They had to put a stop to the ceremony as quickly as possible, but they were slow to move and this march was lagging. The gates were opened all the way, but they were still putting off the departure, waiting for reports from the advance troops. This was all rational strategy. But despite how rational it was, Hamuel sensed Lethe was being too hesitant. Lethe had suggested she was being sarcastic, and now that she thought about it, maybe she had been. There are times when even someone in a position where she can’t afford to be sarcastic will want to make a sharp remark anyway.

Hamuel had instructed the Shufflin IIs in the vanguard to report to her on absolutely every detail. They had placed cameras at every bottleneck, probing for traps and ambushes as they made their way onward. But even with all this, Lethe still remained wary.

“You’re thinking I’m too cautious, eh?” said Lethe.

“Not at all,” Hamuel replied. “Even someone ignorant in strategy like myself understands that this is the behavior of someone who first seeks to know the enemy.”

“You’re bad at hiding what you think.”

“I am occasionally complimented for my honesty.”

Even if it seemed progress was lagging and they weren’t getting anywhere, that was due to her injecting her own feelings into things, and they were in fact moving steadily onward. The report that light was streaming down farther ahead in the ravine relieved Hamuel. But then immediately after that, communications cut off.

“What is the scout doing?” Lethe asked.

“I believe there must have been some kind of accident… I’ll tell them to report in.”

Three minutes after she gave the message over her communicator, a group of diamond Shufflin IIs tumbled over, limbs tangling, whispering, “Situation” into Hamuel’s ear, and Hamuel’s brows came together.

“What happened?” Lethe asked.

“Um…they say that some of the Shufflin IIs in the lead aren’t coming back.”

“Why not?”

“From what those behind them say, there’s a magical girl sitting in the open space in front of the ruins.”

“Just one?”

“Yes, one. It seems Puk Puck is alone, and she’s set down a chair in the open space in front of the ruins to sit. And a number of the Shufflin IIs who saw her from a distance are staggering over in her direction. The others who were with them hurried back.”

Lethe adjusted the angle of her headdress and expelled a quiet sigh. “Does she think of this as play? Or is she serious?”

“Play… I doubt it’s that. Though it doesn’t seem like a decision made by someone with ordinary powers of judgment, either.” Hamuel tried imagining it. Shoving all her subordinates into the ruins they were supposed to protect and going outside alone. “I believe this may be abnormal, after all.”

“But this also differs from Puk’s usual methods, eh. It feels to me as if some other will is directing her.” Lethe considered awhile before giving instructions. “Have the combat engineers and those who can work with them dig out at the threshold to that open space to create an area big enough for all the forces to remain on standby. No blasting. Consider that if we were to damage the ruins, worst case, the world would be destroyed.” Lethe’s expression didn’t say whether she was exaggerating or just warning. This device had been left behind by the mythical figure that was the First Mage, a figure above even the Three Sages. Anything could happen, and it wasn’t as if this were something that would go away if they yelled about it being a nuisance.

Hamuel offered a grave nod. “Understood.”

“But still…the more I think about it, the more it doesn’t seem like something Puk would do. I doubt that she would act on the orders of another, so what could she be up to there, eh?”

Hamuel nodded wordlessly, then promptly reached out to all personnel.

Immediately upon receiving contact from the aces of clubs, Hamuel knitted her eyebrows. It was the team she had ordered to keep watch on those two from Inspection.