Mushoku Tensei (LN) - Volume 25 - Chapter 8

Chapter 8:

Rest

THREE DAYS HAD PASSED since the battle. The wounded were healed, and peace had returned to the Superd Village. During those three days, we’d rested but also stayed on guard against any further enemies. We weren’t doing nothing, but nothing notable happened.

Those were truly peaceful, uneventful days. Zanoba was so worn out that he slept more than half the time. I was worried he’d been badly wounded, but the doctors said it was just ordinary muscle pain. He said it was the first muscle pain he’d experienced in his life and went on reciting his would-be last words: “It feels like my body’s going to fall apart… Julie, I’m going to die soon, I’ve taught you all I can. Stay strong when I am gone.”

Julie wept but nodded with determination in her eyes. It was kinda funny.

I even found myself running over, gripping his hand, and saying, “Zanoba, I’ll complete the autonomous doll, I promise. I swear to god! Leave it to me. Let this divine power be as satisfying nourishment, giving one who has lost their strength the strength to rise again. Healing.”

After that, Zanoba stood up, looking miraculously healthy, and got to work on repairing the Version One. Julie gaped—poor thing.

Once in the village, Atofe was relatively subdued. Before I knew it, she’d had the villagers build her a wooden throne and was initiating the warriors into the ways of battle. It wasn’t anything serious. Even Eris joined in.

Sandor seemed a bit embarrassed at Atofe’s antics, but every now and then, a shadow fell across his face. Of course, he’d be thinking about Alec. I’d asked him if I ought to give him back the King Dragon Blade, but he dismissed it as a tool of war and told me to do with it as I wished.

Well, after talk like that, I didn’t exactly feel like just picking it up. I was one to talk, totally dependent on the Magic Armor as I was, but I felt like using this sword too much would be bad for me—besides, I wasn’t a swordsman. I’d struggle to wield it effectively. I had Orsted look after it for the time being. I could lend it out to people when I needed to.

Ruijerd spent all day every day with Norn. Or more like, everywhere Ruijerd went, Norn followed him like a duckling. Seeing Ruijerd teaching her all sorts of things reminded me of Eris and me, back in the day.

Norn was a diligent student.

…I could call this diligence, right? I just didn’t think I’d ever seen a look like that on Norn’s face before. It was like how she looked at people she admired, but not quite the same… I mean, not that it mattered. She could look at him how she liked.

Dohga was a big hit with the women and children. When we’d first arrived in the village, they’d feared him, but they seemed to have gotten over that barrier. I guessed it was because of how he’d devoted himself to helping them during the plague.

Lately, he’d been whittling things like wooden dolls and playing with the kids. He looked the picture of innocence the whole time.

The kids had stopped pelting Orsted with balls, so he seemed a little lonely. The medical team said the Superd were progressing well, so they moved on to researching the plague. They went through the village’s food, looking for a cause…well, it was more like they were collecting samples. They’d probably take them back to the Asura Kingdom and store them for reference.

Cliff, Elinalise, and Ginger set off for the Second City of Irelil at my request. They were going to repeat my demands to the king as a condition for the release of our prisoners.

I needed someone who could receive the king’s response. I sent two Superd warriors, both with shaven heads, along to serve as their guards…but if Geese hadn’t called off his plan, he might try to pick us off one by one. I couldn’t relax.

I held a review meeting after the battle. There was no end of things to go over. In particular, the bit where I’d gotten myself thrown into the ravine was like, yowzers. And why had I thought Geese wouldn’t use Magical Implements? I’d have to be ready for that likelihood next time. Getting surprised the first time a trick was pulled on me was human, but that trick wouldn’t work on me again.

Oh yeah, the Atofe Hand went back to Atofe, and a healing magic scroll returned my right arm to its original form. Without thinking, I reached out with my new hand and gave Eris’s breasts a good squeeze. She got a good uppercut in, right on my chin, and there was half a day wasted.

Then there was that spell. The spell I’d used at the end of my fight with Alec. I thought it was probably gravity magic, but I wanted another clue. That fight had driven home to me just how powerful gravity magic was.

I had a lot to consider with the teleportation circles too. If I went on setting them up all over the place like this time, our opponent would use them too. I’d have to take precautions against that in future.

Even after three days passed, the teleportation circles still hadn’t recovered. On the second day, I called Arumanfi, and he told me my family were all safe…but even so, the recovery of the magic circles was slower than I’d anticipated.

Maybe there was a problem with something unrelated to the Man-God. That was concerning. Worrying too much wouldn’t help, though, so I had to occupy myself by doing what I could.

On the fourth day, Eris and I went on a date… Okay, we went on a walk around the village. Eris had—unusually for her—spent the whole day after the battle sleeping like a log. At least, recently it was unusual. Her lifestyle these days was regimented to a degree unimaginable when she was little. I hardly ever even saw her take a nap. Once she’d joined in when Linia took a nap, but that was about it. I thought about lying down with them that time, but when Linia was there too that’d mean sharing a bed with her. It felt like a form of cheating, so after some genuine agonizing, I’d decided against it.

Anyway. When Eris was a kid, she’d napped in the stable all the time. Back then, she’d run with her engine open at full throttle 24/7, but she was still small and not done growing yet, so she ran her tank dry. Now, she had a tank with many times the capacity of those days, with a cutting-edge eco-friendly engine. She didn’t run dry anymore. And yet, she’d slept for a full day. That was just how intense the battle had been.

When Eris woke up, she was her old self. She caught sight of the Superd kids as we walked around the village and exclaimed excitedly, “They’ve really got tails!” She actually got one to let her touch it. Her target was a girl. If I’d tried it the Superd, who were protective of their children, would have carried me off and flogged me. I’m not a perv! Don’t arrest me!

Sylphie was probably pretty done with my kinky crap, but if I were going to go there, I’d want her in a costume with a tail.

Anyway, maybe it was seeing Ruijerd again after so long, or maybe she’d loosened up with the fighting over for now, but Eris was so excited it was like she was a kid again. However, as we were going around the village, she suddenly stopped. Sensing danger, I stopped too. She was staring at someone, a middle-aged man who, without his helmet, gave a somewhat childish impression. It was Sandor von Grandeur, the cover name of Alex Rybak, North God Kalman II.

I saw Eris’s pupils contract.

“Hey, don’t—” By the time I tried to restrain her it was already too late. Eris dived forward with incredible speed and struck fiercely at Sandor with her sword.

“Ah!”

But Sandor was quick too. He spun around and caught her blow at the hilt. That was when I finally caught up. I grabbed Eris around the waist, apologizing to Sandor.

“Eris! Whatever Sandor’s done, back down—for my sake! Sandor, I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over my husband—I mean my wife!”

“Where do you think you’re sticking your face?” She kicked me. Okay, maybe I did press my face into her butt, but that was out of my control!

“I’m sorry, Eris, but you can’t go around picking fights with people. Especially Sandor, when he just fought alongside us! Like yeah, concealing his identity and putting on stupid airs and talking like a cryptic sellsword got on my nerves, too. But that’s no reason to hit someone!”

“I know that,” Eris said.

Liar. If you knew that you wouldn’t be attacking people from behind with a sword, would you? I know a thing or two myself.

“Eris, you know, I’ve been seeing you differently lately. I thought you seemed calmer than you used to be. You’ve grown up, gotten more patient, you even learned how to teach sword fighting to other people. Norn was grateful to you for teaching her. It’s not easy winning people’s gratitude like that, you know! I see it as proof of the training you did at the Sword Sanctum. Looking at you now, I never could have imagined you’d grow up into such a wonderful person.”

I was getting a bit preachy, but it was important. Whatever had ruffled her feathers, she couldn’t attack people from behind out of the blue. When Eris swung her sword, it was on a different level from ordinary violence.

“R-really? But Rudeus…” Eris looked happy, but also a bit disappointed. I had to convince her.

“Ah well, Master Rudeus.” Sandor pulled the brake on me. “Let’s leave it at that. I expect Miss Eris wanted to see if the legend was true.”

“The…legend?”

“They say you can’t catch the Second North God Kalman by surprise. Combat ready at all times, even if you attack from behind, he turns like he has eyes in the back of his head and does away with the threat before it strikes.” With that, Sandor struck a pose like he was cutting away an arrow fired at his back. Ignoring his puffery, I had heard something like that before. It showed up in the middle section of The Epic of the North God. That’s right, I think it was the bit where, after the world starts to take notice of the Second North God Kalman, the monarch of the King Dragon Realm sends a bunch of assassins to eliminate him, and he kills them all?

“…I did want to see if it was true.”

“Master Rudeus, Miss Eris was properly considerate. When I caught her strike, I understood that she planned to stop at the last second.”

“Oh, right. In that case… But Eris, if you’re going to do something like this, say something to me. You almost gave me a heart attack.”

“If I’d said something, he’d have noticed.”

Really, though…? Well, I guess if you planned on stopping at the last second, it was just a game, so that’s fine?

What if Sandor had gotten mad and gone over to Geese’s side…?

Hmm. Maybe I was overthinking this. Joshing around between sword fighters always looked deadly to me.

“So you really can block attacks even when they come from behind?”

“Oh, well, I couldn’t back then. That bit in the epic was just my ally having my back. Only, when I started taking apprentices, they all wanted to see if it was true. So I picked it up naturally keeping them at bay.”

“So that’s it!” Eris said. She sounded moved by Sandor’s words. To be fair, when you hear that kind of inside story, it does kind of make you feel like you heard something amazing.

Even when the story itself is no big deal.

“Now, what would you say to a bout?” Sandor asked.

“For real?!”

“I would be honored to try my skill against the fighter who defeated Gall Falion.” Sandor’s eyes flicked over to me as he spoke, and he winked.

What’s that about… Oh, I see. This is a bit of fan service, huh? The Second North God Kalman, hero of the Epic of the North God. He was a big deal. He probably ran into people like Eris a lot.

Maybe he was giving her a special perk because she was my wife? At least, that’s what I thought. Yet Sandor’s eyes stayed on me.

“You know I’m not joining in, yeah? Eris would rather do one-on-one too. Right?”

Stop looking at me and give your fangirl some attention.

Eris might be a little grumpy after losing, but if he framed it as a teaching experience, she’d be happy to take the lesson on board. She was obedient to people who were stronger than her, that girl.

“Oh no,” Sandor said. “I just have a request, in exchange for the bout.”

“No problem! Right, Rudeus?” Eris said.

Could she at least wait until after he told us what he wanted?

“I don’t know if you’ll be able to grant it. It’s rather difficult, you see…”

“…Difficult, you say?”

Starting off like that is way off-putting. I mean, something the Second North God Kalman straight-up says is difficult?

I wasn’t sure that was within my power… But hey, I’d tried hard for the past twenty-odd years to get this far. Even if I couldn’t do it, I was sure I could help somehow.

“I think for you two, it just might be possible.”

“You’ll have to tell me what it is.”

“Let’s call it a surprise for when the fight’s over.”

You always do this.

Whatever.

“Depending on what it is, I’ll see what I can do,” I said. If he was going to be inscrutable, I’d just have to do the same.

***

There was a clang as the wooden sword met the staff. Well, no. It was a much softer sound effect than clang; a weird percussive noise that didn’t sound at all like it came from the collision of a wooden sword and a staff. It was more like swboh, gwooong, calunk calunk. Eris threw out rapid-fire strikes at crazy speed, interspersed with feints and diversions, but every one of them got blocked. I had a lot of mock fights with Eris, so I could tell she was serious. I wasn’t sure about Sandor, but given how comfortable he looked, I didn’t think he was going all out. 

Having said that, every now and then a look flashed over his face like he was struggling, which implied Eris was getting somewhere. They fought bout after bout. Nothing marked the start or the finish. They just took their distance, then one—usually Eris—attacked, then at some point they suddenly stopped. Okay, Sandor usually had his staff at Eris’s neck or her heart or some other vital point, which I guess meant he was winning.

Every three or four exchanges, Eris’s sword found its mark. Whenever that happened, there was a murmured “Ooh!” from around them. At some point, their audience had grown. Cliff, Elinalise, Zanoba, Ginger, Dohga, some young Superd, and even the doctors from Asura were watching Eris and Sandor’s battle, wide-eyed.

Fair enough. This is worth watching.

You wouldn’t see this in a fight between Eris and me. It was too fast for me to see anything other than that it was incredible, but she was essentially at the rank of a Sword God; she knew the theory well enough to teach sword fighting. So she might not be on even footing with the Sword God, who was the best in his class, but she was only a step behind him. To Sandor, she might have some weak points, but even accounting for those, she was winning one in every three or four matches. Even from the sidelines, it was clear straight away: you were watching to see how Eris would slip through Sandor’s defenses to get a hit in.

In short, it was an exciting match—even to an amateur’s eyes.

“Gaaaah!”

These bouts were, at last, winding up. Eris had taken three rounds in a row from Sandor.

She let out a deep breath and sat down on the ground. “Like this, huh?”

“Just like that. You lived up to your name, Mad Sword King Eris. Your instincts are on another level.”

Despite the praise he was giving her, Eris’s expression was hard. She sure hates to lose.

“You’re adaptable. You avoid the things you’ve seen don’t work and actively pursue the things that do. Even when the things you’ve seen work turn out to be false, you have the presence of mind to move on to the next thing without assuming it was simply bad luck. When defeat seems imminent you don’t give up and graciously accept it. You keep hunting for a path to victory to the last… I caught a glimpse of North God Style in your technique. Who was your master?”

“Auber.”

“Oh, him. How ironic. Whenever he saw something wasn’t working, he tried everything to find a clever way to use it. His growth was all twisted.”

“His secret weapon wasn’t, though.”

“True. At his core, he was earnest. I’m sure he knew it. His twistedness was his strength, but he couldn’t rely on it at the very end.”

This was turning into a touching scene. I didn’t know the details, but maybe North Emperor Auber, whom Eris had fought in the Asura Kingdom, had been Sandor’s student.

“Right, now that our bout is over.” Sandor clapped his hands together, and the onlookers scattered. They all looked pleased, like they’d seen something spectacular. Cliff was looking at his hands, squeezing them into fists. Maybe he was thinking sword fighting might be for him, too. Elinalise quickly wrapped her own hands around his fist to keep him in check.

Cliff, you’re awesome enough as is. You don’t need to go learning sword fighting.

After the clap, Sandor immediately transitioned to rubbing his hands together as he turned to me.

“Now then, Master Rudeus, Miss Eris. Returning to my most humble request of you.”

All righty, what kind of request is the mighty North God going to throw at us?

Sandor’s mouth was squirming. He looked uncharacteristically nervous. How to put it? It was like he wasn’t sure how to proceed.

“I’d like you to introduce me once more to Master Ruijerd!”

To…Ruijerd?

“But…why?” Perhaps Sandor was into dudes. He had a kid, so I’d been sure he liked women, like your average guy… Maybe his tastes had changed as he got older? Or maybe he’d picked up a few dodgy habits after joining the Asuran Knights. Maybe I should report this to his mom. I wanted to see how Atofe would react.

Just as I was thinking along those lines, Sandor said, “I’d appreciate it if you could ask him to talk to me. About what happened the moment they finished off Laplace and sealed him away at last.”

“Um, North God Kalman I was your father, right? Didn’t you ask him?”

“My father was unconscious for the final moments and didn’t know the details of what happened. I once endeavored to meet with Sir Perugius and I tried to ask him, but he wouldn’t answer me…and Sir Urupen met his end before I could meet him…”

Aha, that makes sense. Sandor wanted to know about the end of the Laplace War—specifically, the details of the final battle with Demon God Laplace, but he hadn’t had the opportunity. He hadn’t been able to ask any of the Three Godslayers—North God Kalman I, Armored Dragon King Perugius, and Dragon God Urupen—and had given up. Now, he’d been lucky enough to run into the last one, obscured by history: the man whose blow had helped to turn the tide against Laplace in that final battle, Ruijerd Superdia of Dead End.

I guess he would know.

“What do you plan to do with the answer?”

“Huh? Don’t you want to know?! This is a real heroic epic we’re talking about. Not like the cheap excuse for an epic they made about me. I ran around all over the world poking my nose into situations that looked like they could win me some fame until things just sort of fell into place. No, this was the finale of a battle fought by true heroes facing certain death against an enemy far beyond their powers but fighting anyway to save the world!”

I knew the story of The Epic of the North God. Who knew how much writers in this world had exaggerated? Still, his heroic epic was incredible. The particulars varied from chapter to chapter, but broadly speaking, it was the tale of how he’d traveled the world vanquishing evil and rescuing the weak. He’d saved tons of people. Whatever he thought of it, I thought it was amazing. In contrast, Ruijerd’s story was a tragedy. He hadn’t done what they said about him, but his family had still been killed, and his people put in danger of extinction.

He hadn’t saved anyone or achieved anything, and it was because of him that the Superd were forced to live such a restricted life. There was nothing he was proud of. I doubted he’d bring it up of his own accord. If I asked him…yeah, he might tell me, but I was sure it wasn’t something he wanted to talk about.

With that, I looked over at Eris. Her eyes were sparkling.

“I want to hear about it too!” she said.

I mean, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to know myself.

***

Ruijerd was in the middle of a meal. His house was very tidy. Calling it spotless would be going a bit far, but you could tell it was cleaned every day. Ruijerd wasn’t the type to leave stuff lying around, but he also wasn’t the type to be bothered by dust building up in corners and around the windows. Even those places were clean at this point in time.

Of course, his inexperience showed through a touch. If my little sister Aisha, who worked as a maid, saw it, she’d exclaim, “Good grief! You call this cleaning?” Okay, maybe not. If she saw such dusty windowsills, though, she’d roll her eyes with a sigh and say something like “You can’t even clean?” I was pretty sure I’d seen that sort of scene play out when Linia was working for us as a maid.

Lightning round! Who’s the mastermind behind this not-perfectly clean room?

Bzzt!

Ooh, getting in quick! Well, Rudeus?

She’s there beside Ruijerd, serving up something that looks kind of like rice soup into bowls—Norny Greyrat!

That’s right! You win a Roxy doll, Rudeus!

Yippee!

Norn was there beside Ruijerd, looking a bit taken aback to see us. I guess she was surprised to have us all troop in while they were eating. Anyway, let’s not think too hard about why for now.

“What is it? Did something happen?” Ruijerd asked, looking questioningly at us.

“Mm, well, first of all—this gentleman says he’d like to properly introduce himself to you.”

I gestured my palm toward Sandor, who stood up straight.

“I am Sandor von Grandeur, formerly known as the Second North God Alex Rybak! Master Ruijerd Superdia, I can’t tell you what an honor it is to meet the legendary hero who brought about victory in the Laplace War! At your service!”

He was a bundle of nerves. Unthinkable when you compared it to his usual nonchalance. I guess that made sense. From his point of view, the warriors who made it through the Laplace War would be legends of his parent’s generation. I didn’t really get it, but presumably it was a bit like the legendary older gang members in delinquent manga who’d once achieved national domination. As the boss of a gang who rose to the top in a time of relative peace, he’d have to bow down to the great achievements of those guys.

“…On behalf of the Superd warriors, I thank you for your aid in the battle.”

Ruijerd was a polite guy. He bowed, as though it was something he’d forgotten to do earlier.

“Oh no, please raise your head!” Sandor hastened to say. Bowing to each other like that, they practically looked Japanese.

Eris, meanwhile, promptly took a seat and had Norn serve her up some of the rice soup. She was bound to be hungry after all that exercise. She started chowing down, no holds barred. It looked like she was enjoying it. Norn put a bowl in front of me, so I went with it and started to eat. It was a solid effort. Not out-of-this-world delicious, but I doubt I could do better. Wait. Scratch that, I could do a little better… It was good enough to make me waffle on that point, and that was a mark of progress.

“This is great!”

“Thank you.”

“Did you make it, Norn?”

“Yes.”

Overhearing this exchange, I took another look at my soup. Would you believe it? This was Norn’s cooking! When had she picked up advanced cooking techniques?

Part of me thought that, anyway, but I had to acknowledge that Norn had become a grown girl. This world had homemaker training, just like back in my world. She would know how to cook, at least. Understanding how far she’d come, it suddenly tasted amazing. Little by little, Norn was growing up. It warmed a big brother’s heart to see it. Those feelings were like a spice that amplified the flavor of the soup ten, even a hundred times over. This was basically a drug.

Back on topic.

“Anyway, Ruijerd, I brought Sandor here along because he has something he’d like to ask you about.”

“He wants to ask me something?”

“Yes. Only, you might not want to talk about it.” With that out of the way, I told Ruijerd what this was all about. I told him about Sandor’s fanatical respect for him…for the whole team that brought down Laplace, and how he wanted the full picture of how that fight had gone. I also dropped in some stuff about how Sandor’s father, North God Kalman (the first one) had died in that fight, and now his son, Sandor, wanted to pin down how he had really died and, if called for, take revenge. Plus how he couldn’t even talk about his life up till now without weeping.

“Rudeus.”

“Yes?”

“Why are you telling such lies?”

“Er. I just, I got carried away…” It was common knowledge that North God Kalman had survived the battle with Demon God Laplace. Afterward, he’d infiltrated Demon King Atofe’s abode alone, cursed her, then married her. Later still, he’d journeyed around the world and finally died in the King Dragon Mountains.

“Heh. You never change, do you?”

If a sleazy guy like me had lied to the old Ruijerd, he might have gone ballistic. Now he understood I was joking. I guess he really trusted me.

“Well, maybe Sandor’s reasons for wanting to know aren’t as grand as all that, but if it’s all right with you, I hope you’ll talk to him.”

“It’s nothing special,” Ruijerd qualified. Then, he began his tale.

The curse of the spear lifted from Ruijerd, only for him to fall under another curse. The curse of vengeance. Driven on by that curse, he made haste to Laplace only to find when he arrived that the final battle had already begun. It was almost concluded when he’d gotten there.

North God Kalman was down, and Perugius’s twelve familiars had all been snuffed out save one. Perugius himself was on his knees, heavily wounded. Only Urupen fought valiantly on, but it was clear that Laplace was overpowering him. Laplace, by comparison, was tired, but he still had fight left in him. Even in the face of this, Ruijerd kept cool. Laplace had deceived the Superd and driven them nearly to extinction, but Ruijerd set aside his hatred and closely observed his opponent. Laplace was strong, but Ruijerd had some vague knowledge of the three combatants. Back when he’d been in his right mind, he’d crossed swords many times with North God Kalman and Dragon God Urupen. Both were powerful fighters. Urupen was so strong that even Ruijerd had no hope of beating him. The skyfolk woman beside Perugius looked like a fighter of some skill, too. 

Despite all that, Laplace was going strong. He was tired, but he could still fight. If Ruijerd lashed out in anger, he might fail. So he observed Laplace, looking for an opening where he could be sure to end him—when he found something in Laplace’s body. The something raced around inside him. Ruijerd didn’t know what it was, but with instincts born of long experience, he guessed that it was Laplace’s weak point. There was no time to confirm his guess. Laplace attacked to finish off Perugius only for Urupen to come between them and take the blow. It would prove fatal. Victory was now hopeless. Laplace smiled triumphantly.

That moment, Ruijerd snuck up behind him and struck. His target was the something he had sensed. The result was sensational. Right away, Laplace was racked with pain and, in a blind rage, he hit back at Ruijerd. He didn’t die at once, but something had changed.

Ruijerd could do no more. Laplace overpowered him. His Demon Eye dulled Ruijerd’s movement, his fist broke through his guard to break bone, and he easily brushed off Ruijerd’s attacks. Laplace shut him down, beating Ruijerd to a pulp as though he were a child. Thinking he was finished, Ruijerd threw himself at Laplace in a desperate, suicidal attack. Just then, the ground glowed. Blue-white light lit up their surroundings: it was a magic circle. Ruijerd looked and saw Urupen with both his hands on the ground, chanting something.

Laplace cried, “It can’t be!” as the magic circle blazed with light. Ruijerd was blinded. Even then, his third Superd eye saw Laplace’s body and mana tear apart and scatter. His ears caught Laplace’s dying scream.

“Don’t think that was enough to kill me! Man…! Man…! I’ll kill you! I’ll destroy you! Just wait, you damn bastard, I’ll…”

Those were Laplace’s final words.

“I don’t know exactly what that technique was.”

“It’s called Draconic Remnant! The spell Sir Perugius revived from the ancient tomes to use against Laplace in the final battle!”

“Is that so?”

Yet another teenage edgelord name. Maybe the dragonfolk just couldn’t be content unless they gave all their techniques names like that. Not that I had something against them myself.

“Well, now, so it did get used in the end… It was Sir Urupen who cast it… Ah, of course, it must have been setting off the spell that led to Sir Urupen’s death so soon after that final battle… I’m sure the plan was for the task of setting it off to fall to Perugius… So, yes, of course, Sir Perugius won’t speak of it. He’s ashamed that he let them down. Perhaps he sees himself as having murdered Sir Urupen… Yes, it’s all come together…!”

Sandor was satisfied. He was muttering to himself like an otaku. That was a bit scary. It reminded me of myself in my former life. There were still some holes in my understanding after the story, but as far as I could tell this was the gist: Perugius had been supposed to use this technique in the final showdown but couldn’t because Laplace knocked the crap out of him. On top of that, Urupen had taken a hit for him, then on top of that Urupen had activated the magic circle and passed away suddenly as a result.

That’d be unbearable. If it were me, I’d probably refuse to go outside until Roxy came and comforted me…

It made sense that he’d spent four hundred years wandering the skies, waiting for a sign of Laplace’s return. I bet he’d sworn that this time, he’d do the deed himself.

“Huh? If you cast the final battle spell, doesn’t that mean Laplace died?”

“They said they thought they’d killed him, but later, Sir Perugius searched Laplace’s castle and discovered that he’d ensured that if he died, he’d be reincarnated and return. That’s why he started saying that Laplace was only ‘sealed.’”

“…Right.”

Ruijerd’s expression was stormy. He’d be thinking that when Laplace returned, he’d have to fight too. Even if Laplace would eventually come back, reincarnation meant that he was currently dead. They had killed him once.

Sorry, I shouldn’t have laughed at the idea of “Three (Not-) Godslaying Heroes”…

“I don’t know what happened later. After that, I said my farewells and went back to the Demon Continent.”

He’d spent the last four hundred years struggling to save the Superd. Hearing the story properly, I felt like while his life had been hard, it was wonderful that he’d found this place to live out the rest of his days. Really wonderful.

We were also on track to restore the reputation of the Superd, so in my lifetime people would stop saying “Go to sleep or the Superd will come and gobble you up” and start saying “Go to sleep or monsters will come. Then the Superd will have to rescue you.”

Heh heh. There’d be kids refusing to go to bed everywhere.

“Thank you for telling us such a valuable story! I never thought I’d get to meet you in a place like this, you know! I’m overwhelmed! I’ve solved a lifelong mystery!”

Sandor bowed over and over again, his face glowing.

As she ate her rice soup, Eris also listened with interest. In the past she’d have butted in, bright eyed, to ask “Then?! What happened next?!” Perhaps she knew she was embroiled in a legendary fight of her own. Come to think of it, over the years Eris too had traveled to all sorts of places, had all sorts of adventures, and fought all sorts of enemies… Admittedly, for most of those she’d tagged along with me, so maybe she wasn’t fully satisfied.

“Well, that’s enough for—” Sandor had just begun to stand up.

“Well met!” someone boomed as the door was blown off its hinges. Eris jumped to her feet, kicked aside the incoming door, then used the momentum to spin around, step in, and draw her sword. She swung down to cut the intruder right down the middle.

“Hehehe, hotheaded, aren’t we… I recognize you as a champion for just that!” The intruder caught the blade between her hands. The trespasser had fully stopped Eris’s ultra-fast strike. “Settle down. I only came to meet the master of the house.”

It was Immortal Demon King Atoferatofe Rybak. Probably the most blockheaded person in the world. She was so blockheaded, she even put Eris and Kishirika to shame.

“It’s been toooo long, Ruijerd Supeeerdia.” Her mouth twisted in a smile as she glowered at Ruijerd, looking every bit the demon king she was. Her voice was slippery like a snake as she spoke Demon God Tongue.

“It has, Demon King Atofe,” Ruijerd replied, also in demon tongue.

“Hehehe. I remember you well. You might not think it, but I’ve got a good memory. It was when I was chasing you around the Babynos Region, wasn’t it?”

Ruijerd was silent.

“To think you ended up building your nest in a place like this…” 

Ruijerd was sweating. Even the great Ruijerd was uncomfortable around Atofe.

“Your Majesty, just a second, let’s all calm down. The rampage of the Superd in the Laplace war was all engineered by Laplace himself.”

“What did you say?”

I told Atofe about how the Superd had come to be cursed. Everyone cried, storyteller and listeners both, as I explained how everything was a trap set by the diabolical Laplace. The Superd were innocent.

Atofe listened, nodding like she was taking it in. Eventually, she yelled, “Shut up! You’re not making sense, so shut up!”

I must have made it too complicated. I looked at Sandor for help, and he nodded as if to say, Leave it to me.

“Master Rudeus… It was either just before the Superd received the magic spears (or perhaps simultaneous to that) that my mother was sealed away. She doesn’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, right… Then why were you chasing him?”

“She won’t remember the reason, I’m sure. Right, Mother?”

“Hmph… I do remember! It was the peasants! The peasants asked me for help!”

That stood to reason. Likely what happened was that Ruijerd had tried to help some child, some people had misinterpreted it as him attacking the child, and even though they feared the demon king, they relied on her, so they appealed to her directly. “Do something about that ‘Dead End.’”

“Well, anyway, it’s all Laplaces’s fault, so please…forgive him this time.” I almost said “let bygones be bygones” but caught myself. She’d blow her top again if I used any more difficult expressions.

“Heh, hehe, fwaaahahahaha! Very well! I’m not like those stingy dragonfolk! He shall have my forgiveness!”

…

Maybe it was actually Ruijerd who couldn’t forgive her. From a certain point of view, it could look like Atofe had actively persecuted the Superd.

“But Ruijerd, the villagers here! They’re so feeble I can’t believe they’re your people. What happened to the tough Superd?”

“They all died.”

“Oh? Come to think of it, I don’t see Superd on the Demon Continent anymore.”

Ruijerd didn’t say anything. He wore a look of understanding. He’d realized logic didn’t work on Demon King Atoferatofe Rybak. She might not have even been aware that she was persecuting the Superd… By hating her, he’d just be making himself look stupid.

I mean, yeah. There was no way Atofe would plot something insidious like persecution. She was more the type to crush her opponent through head-on war.

“Hehehe. Ruijerd Superdia… I think highly of you. If you will become my servant, I shall spare your friends in the village.”

“Mother, you say ‘spare,’ but what exactly are you planning on doing if he turns you down? Surely, you aren’t saying you’re going to kill them all, right? You know no one here will stand for that?”

Sandor’s gaze was sharp. He’d curbed his air of whimsical nonchalance, and there was an icy chill in his face as he glared at her.

“Nngh…uhh…”

“I see why you want him as a servant. I grew up hearing from Dad about the strength of the Superd warriors. It makes sense you’d want to recruit the leader of those warriors…but the way you do it is important, Mother. Thought you might struggle with that.”

Wow, Atofe actually listened to her son.

I really was impressed. Sandor had smoothed the situation over in a matter of seconds.

“On that note, Master Ruijerd, what do you say to studying North God Style?”

Don’t do it. If you say yes, you’re gonna get dragged off to Fort Necross. This is fraudulent solicitation!

“You’d make North King or North Emperor in no time, and if you were one of the leading disciples of North God Style, that would improve the world’s impression of the Superd. The ruler of the Asura Kingdom is close to Master Rudeus, so as a leading disciple of North God Style, you could get a knighthood, even as a Superd.” Sandor’s sales pitch rolled off his tongue. I could see his ulterior motive—he wanted to share a workplace with this guy he looked up to.

Personally, I didn’t see anything wrong with that. In the event that the Biheiril Kingdom refused to take in the Superd, they could agree to move to the Asura Kingdom. Then Ariel’s authority would protect them. We’d have to think a bit about where they’d live, but one idea was the forest in the north of the kingdom. We went through there when we infiltrated the Asura Kingdom in secret. That could work. It didn’t belong to any country in particular, so surely no one would complain.

I didn’t think the Superd would want to move again, but if a little more patience would make them safe, that had to be the better option.

Then Ruijerd replied.

“I appreciate the offer, but I don’t intend to leave the village for some time.”

“I see… Excuse me, I got a little ahead of myself.”

Well, the village was a big project itself. People don’t like to leave once they’ve put down roots. Ruijerd wanted to give this place his best shot.

“Heh heh, be that as it may. Ruijerd Superdia, I am here to see you!”

“Yes.”

“Heh, eheheh… Be not afraid. We are allies this time. A demon king clashes with the other strong warriors on the same side, but deep down she acknowledges their strength. Yes, that’s right, I acknowledge your skill! I wasn’t lying when I said I think highly of you. The Superd warriors were mighty, after all.”

“…Yes. They were outstanding warriors.”

Maybe it was because Sandor had told her off, but Atofe was being pretty friendly by her typical standards. I doubted she’d come looking for a fight. It was like she’d caught sight of a familiar face and come to say hello or something.

Suddenly, I felt someone’s gaze. I looked back and saw Norn looking my way, her expression troubled.

She was curled up, so I hadn’t noticed, but she was sitting right between Atofe and Ruijerd. Her eyes were pleading with me to do something. I shook my head to tell her this was out of my hands, at which she looked like she might cry.