25
Once the drawbridge was lowered and the troops on the far shore came across, defeat was assured. Although, it should be said that defeat was largely accomplished the moment the voice of the young girl on the announcement system revealed the plotters’ true intentions. The Divine Generals and the rest of the relief troops found themselves handling a simple mop-up operation.
And it was going quite well…
“Heeey, Arakiya. Old Gramps won’t let you get away with this—a strange man so much older than you! How much older is he anyway? Can’t keep him around—I suppose we’ll just have to kill him.”
“…What are you talking about?” Arakiya asked.
“Gah-ha-ha-ha-ha! This is just how old men talk. You don’t think it’s funny? Oh… You don’t. Right, right, it’s not a pretty sight when an old man does that sort of thing. My mistake, my mistake.”
The source of the raucous laughter was a diminutive, white-haired old man—Orbart Dankelken. Arakiya was somewhat bemused by the behavior of the man who claimed to be number Three of the Nine Divine Generals, but Al, who had been hauled in front of the old guy, was even more confused.
Al was exhausted through and through; he wanted nothing more than to fling himself down somewhere and go to sleep. Of course, he wouldn’t say that to Orbart if it killed him (literally). After all…
“You’re the one, aren’t you? You helped lower the bridge. You were a big help. Especially seeing as if I didn’t get this all squared away in a hurry, His Excellency would’ve killed me.”
…After all, Al’s instincts were warning him urgently that despite the old man’s comical demeanor, his power was even greater than that of the Hornet, whom Al had only escaped after hundreds and hundreds of attempts. Al had definitely considered the Hornet the third or fourth most powerful person he’d encountered in his life—but that ranking was quickly changing.
“The world’s a big place…but this little island has been enough for me,” he said.
“No worldly desires, is that it? You’re…well, not quite young enough to be called a youngster, I guess. Though, most people are youngsters from my perspective! And young people are supposed to have dreams, aren’t they?” Orbart asked.
“Dreams, huh? Already had myself a good one.” That was Al’s response to Orbart’s heedless outburst as he glanced at Arakiya, who stood beside the venerable man. He reached out and patted her head, with its dusty silver hair. Arakiya still looked a bit confused, but she accepted his gesture. “I dreamed I was able to protect a beautiful, silver-haired young lady. It was the thing I had to do in all my lives.”
“Hey now, are you serious? I won’t let you have Arakiya, y’know. That’s a dream too far!”
“I’m fond of her. That don’t mean I’m romantically interested. Silver hair’s my one dealbreaker.” Al pulled his hand back as he tried to placate Orbart’s simple wariness.
Arakiya, more or less divorced from their conversation, looked at Orbart and said, “Um… This ugly brute. What will happen to him?”
“Those piercing words! And she doesn’t even mean anything by them! My heart…”
“Him? Nothing. If he wants a reward, I’ll give him one if my authority can make it happen. And if he wants to get out of here, I think he’s earned it.” Orbart glanced over at Al, who found it a little grating to be effectively asked indirectly what he wanted, but he nodded at Orbart just the same. The old man hadn’t survived so long for no reason; a lifetime of experience told him what was in Al’s heart.
“That’s right. I don’t need anything. Got no plans to leave here, either. If I had to pick something, I’d just ask that there was still a here to be.”
“Don’t think you need to worry about that. The empire’s got no shortage of villains, and this little episode just got us a whole heap of new criminals. We’ll replenish the numbers here in no time! Gah-hah-hah-hah!” Orbart guffawed again, pounding Al on the shoulder.
Then the old man turned to leave, and Arakiya was about to follow him. Al watched the small figure for a moment, and just as he was about to make his own exit, she stopped. She didn’t turn all the way around—just turned her head to look at him. “Thank you,” she said simply.
Al just shrugged at that. “Douitashimashite, kid.”
“…I don’t know what that means.”
“That’s all the thanks I need. Full marks. Oh man, I’m getting goose bumps… Have a long life, kid.”
Arakiya knit her brow for a second, but then she nodded, and this time, she did follow Orbart off. Al watched her go, then gave a great stretch. The uprising on the sword-slave island had been quelled, and most of the people he knew, including the Hornet, were dead. There was just one exception—rumor had it that the chief culprit, Ubirk, was gone without a trace. A bit of a surprise considering his plan had supposedly encompassed not only Ginonhive, but also rebellions all over the empire that were only a prelude to the ultimate murder of the emperor.
Well, the emperor was still kicking, and Al told himself that Ubirk was probably fish food or something. A fitting fate for a worthless, stupid fugitive who had no right to be screwing around with the destinies of others.
“Huh. Guess I changed that Arakiya girl’s destiny, though.”
Because of him, Arakiya would live on, maybe find someone, have kids, have grandkids and great grandkids. Maybe a whole new family line would spring from her. That could revolutionize the world in unimaginable ways.
It might turn out to be one of the few marks Al had left on the world.
“I can just imagine how badly my teacher would beat me if I started talking like that,” Al said, scratching his head. He turned to go back into the sword-slave island. No matter who was no longer there, no matter if no one wanted him, this was his place. The one place his existence was permitted, a paradise for black sheep like him.
“‘Headless soldiers,’ huh…,” he mumbled, suddenly recalling the voice he’d heard over the announcement system. “Headless soldiers” had been the girl’s contemptuous description of the sword slaves who had risen up in armed rebellion thoughtlessly—but Al wasn’t so different from them. She’d told the fools to get their heads back.
“A cruel woman, her.”
Confronting people with the truth wasn’t always enough to save those who lived in lies. Shivering at that bloodred declaration, lacking every hint of kindness, Al licked his dried-out lips.
If he hoped for anything, it was that he and the owner of that arrogant voice would never meet as long as he lived.
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