Chapter VII: Inglis, Age 15—The City Ruled by Highlanders (Part 1)
Ten or so days had passed since Inglis had left her hometown, Ymir. The journey from Ymir to Chiral, the capital, was expected to take just under a month, so she and Rafinha were a third of the way to their destination—or so one might assume.
“Mmmm! This is great! ♪ I love traveling. You get to go to so many places and try so much food!”
The town of Nova, their current location, was set in the foothills of a nearby mountain, where wild greens and fruits were abundant. Rafinha shoveled a slice of raspberry pie, laden with decadent jam and entire berries, into her mouth with a satisfied smile.
The table she shared with Inglis was decked with pastries made from the famous local raspberries, and she’d already eaten enough for several grown men. Other tables may have been casting over the occasional stare of awe, but both girls were well used to that.
“Are you sure you’re not eating too much, Rani?”
“You’ve had just as much as I had.”
Inglis was indeed rapidly making her way through the food as fast as Rafinha was. No plate was left uncleaned as the two danced through a sugar-sweet daydream. In my past life, I was a big eater, but never like this. I never liked sweets either. Now I do. Is it because I was reborn as a woman? I guess in any case it’s another way to live life differently. I’d never have tried dressing up or eating things like this before.
“Yeah, but... Really, we’ll be in trouble.”
“What kind of trouble?”
“Our budget. If we don’t eat normal portions, our money will never last until Chiral.”
“Whaaat?! So we won’t be able to try any of the delicious things waiting for us?”
“That’s right. That’s why I said we’re eating too much.”
“So then why don’t we just take the most direct route?”
“Absolutely not! We need to visit Ahlemin first.”
Inglis was absolutely insistent on this detour and had planned for it in her initial budget. This city had a landmark she desperately wanted to see: the huge corpse of a Prismer, slain by a holy knight and hieral menace team over fifty years before. She hoped to experience a little bit of the power of such a monster. Would that even work? She wasn’t sure, but she was equally unsure it would be fruitless, so why not try anyway?
“That’s why we need to cut back,” Inglis continued. “This is our last fancy—”
“No way!” Rafinha interrupted. “That’s no fun at all! When are we ever going to have a chance like this again?”
“Do you have any better ideas, then?”
“If it’s money we need, why not just earn it on the way? We have plenty of time before we’re supposed to arrive, right?”
“Well... Yeah, we have some leeway,” Inglis acquiesced. She knew she was easy on Rafinha, who was like the granddaughter she’d never had, so it was easy to tolerate her whims. Like usual, she found herself going along with what Rafinha wanted.
“All right, then! It’s a working holiday, eating our way across the country! She who will not work shall not eat! That should be no problem, though. We’ve got the skills to earn far more than we were given for the trip.”
“Yeah. So I guess when we get to the next—”
Before Inglis could even finish her sentence, Rafinha, always quick on her feet, had flagged the waitress down. “Excuse me, waitress!”
“Um, Rani...”
“Yes? What can I get you?” the waitress asked.
“Three more slices of raspberry pie! ♪” Rafinha swiftly replied.
“Okay! I’ll have that right out!”
Inglis tried to get her back on track. “C’mon, Rani.”
“Wait, sorry, one more thing. Do you happen to know where we’d find work in this town? Something where we can really show off—and earn—what we’re worth!” Rafinha showed her hand to the waitress.
“Oh my! So you’ve a Rune?”
“Yes. An Artifact too!” The bow Rafinha carried was such an object, and it was well-suited to her upper-class Rune. The Artifact had not been in the armories of Ymir, and Duke Bilford had worked hard to acquire the new item for his daughter. With this bow in her hands, none of the knights—or the magicite beasts they’d encountered for that matter—had been a match.
“So young and yet already a knight. Incredible!”
“Well, actually, we’re on our way to the knights’ academy, but...”
“In any case, if you’re looking for that kind of work, the local lord is hiring knights and mercenaries. Why not see him? I’m sure he’d be happy to have you lend a hand against the magicite beasts.”
“That’s perfect! Right, Chris?” Rafinha’s eyes were gleaming.
“I guess, but... You say he’s recruiting? What happened to his old forces?” Inglis pressed the waitress for details.
“He drove the old lord’s lot out when he took power. Thanks to that, life around here has improved, and the taxes have gone down. But it does mean he’s a bit pressed for a few blades. Not enough to lower his standards, though.”
“So he cleaned house, then?”
“Well, more like he had no connection to the old lord at all,” the waitress explained plainly. “The old nobility was abolished, and we came under direct administration by the Highlanders. Our new lord is one of them.”
“A Highlander?!” Both Inglis and Rafinha were shocked.
“My apologies—I meant we came under the king’s direct control, but we’re overseen by a Highlander. Sorry, I’m still not excited about that part.”
“...Yeah, it’s probably best to leave it at that.”
Regardless of the actual forces at work, how could a king maintain his authority if he couldn’t claim to have maintained his borders? If the pretext for the change was to remove an unpopular lord, the entire process could be presented as the failings of the previous lord rather than of the king—even if the reality was that he couldn’t resist the Highlander’s demands.
Still, what was the advantage for the Highlanders? Colonization? But why would a Highlander, nestled in the bosom of privilege, choose to move to the surface? Was Nova a base from which to deliver crops and other resources? Perhaps it was less expensive to operate than the Artifact-for-offerings trade? Overseeing the city’s rule in-person had its own risks, though.
If nothing else, it was sure to fan the flames of anti-Highlander sentiment and drive an increase in Steelblood Front activity. Or was their military supremacy so mighty that no opposition could be made?
Highland supplied hieral menaces, Artifacts beyond compare; surely they had plans for how to defeat them as well. That meant Highland might be forced to show a secret weapon if a team of a holy knight and a hieral menace arose in opposition to them. That idea, and how she might respond, fascinated Inglis.
“So we won’t be in any danger meeting him?” Rafinha asked.
Rahl was the only Highlander the pair had met before, and Inglis understood Rafinha’s trepidation about meeting another.
“No,” the waitress replied. “Like I said, things have only improved here since he arrived. Well, mostly improved. Sales have gone down, but what can I do? At night, we’re a bar—in a town with fewer drunk soldiers.”
“I see...”
“But really, he’s not a bad man. He cares for orphans and the ill in his manor. When I saw that, I was relieved that we finally had a good lord.” The waitress smiled.
“I guess there are good Highlanders too?” Rafinha said, but she sounded unconvinced as she cast a hesitant glance toward Inglis.
“Maybe. Why don’t we go see for ourselves?” Inglis said. She thought this would be a good opportunity to learn more about Highland—for herself but especially for Rafinha.
“We’ll do that, then! But not before one more slice of raspberry pie!”
“Okay.”
After finishing their meal, they set off for the local manor house.
They easily negotiated a deal. It was practically instantaneous once they showed off Rafinha’s Bow of Light Rune and Artifact.
Inglis was, of course, welcome along as her squire but equally expected to demonstrate what she was capable of. Thus, she found herself in the manor’s courtyard, facing the burly knight assigned command of the ragtag local forces. He looked like he was in his early twenties, well-muscled but with the air of a calm and confident nobleman rather than an intense fighter.
“I’m Nash. Sorry, but I need to see what you’re made of before I send you out to the front lines to get hurt,” he said.
“I don’t mind. I suppose I understand why you’d be concerned,” Inglis replied.
The sparring match would be a simple one with wooden swords.
Rafinha barely stifled a yawn, struggling to hide her boredom as the knights and mercenaries crowded in to watch. “You’re wasting your time making Chris prove herself...”
For Inglis, though, this was a great opportunity. All eyes were on her, and she would dispel any illusions the crowd had about her. If anything, she was thankful for this chance. She would put it to good use.
“All right, show me what you’ve got!” Nash called.
“Very well.” Inglis darted in, sweeping aside Nash’s wooden sword. He was too slow to respond, and it went flying from his hand.
“Wh—?!”
Before he could recover from the surprise, she slammed her palm into his unguarded belly.
“Gwuh?!” Nash doubled over as he went flying backwards.
“Whoaaaa!” Everyone watching rose to their feet, shocked, as Nash smashed butt-first into the ground and tumbled a few times.
A dizzy Nash could only manage to mumble, “I... I think you pass...”
“Ah. Whoops. Guess I went a little too hard! Sorry about that. C’mon, let’s get you on your feet.”
Inglis had put too much force into her attack, and she felt terrible about that. She rushed to his side, slapping his cheeks to try to bring him back to his senses.
It wasn’t long before the situation took a turn for the worse.
A man rushed in, eyes wide in shock. “Big trouble! Magicite beasts!” he cried. “Nash?! Nash! What happened?!”
Bad timing. Real bad timing.
Inglis called out, “Uh... T-To the defense!”
At Inglis’s shout, the stunned knights came back to their senses.
“A-All right!”
“Yeah, we’ve gotta hold the magicite beasts off!”
“Let’s go! Hurry!”
◆◇◆
Inglis and Rafinha joined the knights’ sortie against the magicite beasts. They may have been newcomers, but they were recruits nonetheless, so this was their job to deal with too.
Nova’s walls surrounding the city were weak, basically nothing more than stone fences as tall as the average adult. This was quite different from the ring around Ymir, which was thrice as tall and wide enough for forces to patrol on the walkway. It would be supremely difficult to mount a defense from the walls.
On the other hand, the lord’s manor here was of far stouter construction than the castle the Bilfords of Ymir called home. Generations of local gentry must have paid special attention to the manor. Occasional heaps of stone and patches of scaffolding indicated there had been recent efforts to reinforce the walls—likely a decision of the new Highlander lord, who’d been described to Inglis and Rafinha as a woman named Cyrene.
Rafinha frowned. “Defending this city is gonna be pretty hard.”
“Yeah. We can’t hold these walls against a magicite beast,” Inglis said. “Our only option is to defeat it first.”
Fortunately, no beasts had reached the city proper. Taking the battle outside the walls was the obvious course of action.
“So, what are we up against?” Inglis asked as she scaled the wall to get a better view. For a woman who was able to climb the walls of Ymir without breaking a sweat, it was an easy task, but it still raised the morale of the nearby knights. She continued working through the situation aloud. “Beasts and an insectoid—probably a dragonfly? If I’m right, that one could bypass the wall easily.”
Rafinha followed Inglis, surveying the battlefield alongside her. A knight’s Artifact wasn’t just a weapon; it also enhanced their physical abilities. The higher the Rune’s class, the stronger the Artifact and the greater its effects were. The lowest Runes and Artifacts did little to improve the wielder’s capabilities. Thanks to Rafinha’s powerful Rune, scaling the walls wasn’t difficult for her either. If she tried, she’d likely manage it even in Ymir.
Rafinha agreed with Inglis. “Right? We should go out there and—”
“Excuse me!” a knight called down from below. “Do you have a moment?”
“Yes! What do you need?” Inglis answered.
Rafinha chimed in as well. “Is there something we can help you with?”
“We’d like you to take command. Nash is in no condition to fight right now, and none of us have any leadership experience. But you have an upper-class Rune! You can take charge!”
The local knights lacked combat experience. The ruffians previously in Nova had already driven out the battle-hardened knights. Military force was as much a matter of discipline and organization as it was of raw strength. The present knights did not have the latter.
Rafinha, tapped for command, frowned in discomfort. “A-Are you sure? Chris, don’t you have any command experience?” She’d fought alongside the knights of Ymir, but she’d never led them. That had been a task for the captain, Luke, and his lieutenant, Ada.
“Better get used to it now. You’ve got an upper-class Rune, Rani. When you become a full knight, you’ll be in command often.”
“B-But is it really okay to jump into this as a newbie?”
“Don’t worry. I’ll give you suggestions. First, have an imposing presence. A calm, cool-headed leader makes for calm, cool-headed troops.”
Inglis didn’t have any command experience—well, none that anyone else knew of. In her past life, she’d commanded small squads like these to regiments and entire armies. She didn’t anticipate this group to be difficult to manage.
“Okay, I think I get it,” Rafinha said before turning to the assembled knights. “All right, everyone! Follow me! We’ll drive the magicite beasts off!” She brandished her Artifact bow.
“Hurrah!” Cheers of approval rose up from below. It came as no surprise—a maiden like Rafinha would be not only a commander but also a symbol of what they were fighting for.
“S-So... Now what, Chris?”
“Leave it to me.” Inglis cleared her own throat and raised her voice. “The humble Inglis Eucus shall convey our leader’s commands! Make camp around the gates and await the enemy’s approach! If a beast assaults, intercept it and drive it away!”
In other words, she was ordering them to keep watch. The knights whispered confused questions to one another, but Inglis continued.
“Inglis—that is, I—will charge forth to draw the beasts’ attention, and it’s when they falter that Rafinha will destroy them with the power of her Artifact! To your positions!”
Making a plan around Rafinha’s bow was a safer, swifter choice than solely meeting the foes head-on.
Inglis whispered to her friend. “You know what to do, Rani?”
“What we always do, right? You’re just making it sound impressive.”
“Exactly. Ready?”
“Yeah.”
“Then, Inglis Eucus shall sally forth!” Her voice boomed as she leaped from the walls and advanced on the mass of magicite beasts. There were dozens of foes, yet she charged forth unflinchingly.
“Wh-What is she doing?!”
“Wait! There’s too many!”
“Someone stop her!”
Cries of dismay arose from behind Inglis as the knights thought she was sacrificing herself. However, they would soon realize that she was in no danger. Inglis, a one-woman battalion—if not a one-woman army—crashed into a group of magicite beasts.
Grrrr!
Awoooo!
Growllll!
The three beasts, formerly dogs or wolves, made a triangle formation with the leader front and center.
Inglis jumped and stomped the lead beast’s left shoulder as she dodged its bite. “Haaaah!” she cried as she swiftly slammed her other foot into the side of its skull, sending it tumbling into its follower.
Two down.
The third, last to arrive, rushed in to bite Inglis. She didn’t have time to properly evade. Instead, she used the momentum of her kick from a moment ago to twist herself upward, fangs slicing through empty space before sticking into the ground. She ran along the beast’s back, leaping into the air again. She had jumped toward the hovering insectoid to draw its attention. It may have once been a dragonfly, but its legs were now long blades akin to scythes.
And now those blades were pointing toward Inglis as it swooped down.
But were they blades, or were they stepping-stones?
Inglis evaded the beast’s slashes and landed perfectly on one scythe before leaping nimbly to another. She kept jumping from one to the next until she found her opening.
As the insect continued its attempts to scrape her off, Inglis tumbled forward and smashed the membrane between its head and its body. “Yaaah!”
It let out a roar of pain as it fell to the ground, and a mass of other beasts swarmed toward Inglis. Her plan to draw their attention had succeeded. Simple weapons and bare-handed strikes couldn’t defeat magicite beasts, but they sure could draw their attention. Inglis could have defeated them with Aether Strike and Aether Shell, but she couldn’t rely on those for long yet, so she reserved those techniques for when they were really necessary.
Besides, an easy win wasn’t a satisfying win. She could throw herself into the teeming mass of the enemy with Aether Shell and emerge without a scratch, but it wouldn’t have accomplished her goal here. She wanted to practice unarmed combat and get the feel for its momentum in battle; there was no reason to let an opportunity go to waste.
“W-Wow! Look at her goooo!”
“She’s so amazing!”
“What a beautiful sight! I can’t believe it!”
Inglis had drawn the attention of the knights as much as she had that of the beasts. They were focused solely on her and had even set aside their arms to watch her fight. That fight was otherworldly. She was otherworldly. They wondered if it had all been a dream. If it had been, the knights hoped not to wake so that they could see more. They were transfixed, their fists clenched, their cheers ragged with anticipation.
Meanwhile, Rafinha made her move, taking a position between the knights and Inglis. She gripped her Artifact bow. From her hand, a bright white arrow of light sprang forth, growing as it gathered energy. Her Artifact needed no physical arrows—a knight worthy of wielding it could create them from pure light as if by magic. This was Rafinha’s Gift, one she called “Shiny Flow.” It still had its limits, but the longer and harder she drew the bowstring, the more forceful the bolt would be. She got ready to fire.
“Chris! You ready? Here it comes!”
“Yeah, Rani! Go ahead!”
“All right! Here goes!” Rafinha shot over the heads of the thronging beasts, but this was no missed shot. The arrow flew forth, drawing an arc over Inglis’s head.
“Burst!” At Rafinha’s command, the arrow transformed from a single heavy shaft to a rain of flechettes falling down on the battlefield. This was the Shiny Flow.
The rain cut mercilessly through the mob of beasts, and as their death rattles arose, Inglis stepped nimbly out of the way. It was a difficult tactic to pull off, but that was exactly why Inglis liked it. These sorts of maneuvers had earned her a reputation. No one else on the battlefield would be able to dodge such an attack; it was the perfect way to bring about Rafinha’s full power. They’d developed this while fighting side by side, using both of their strengths.
And as the arrows of light tapered off, only Inglis remained on her feet, brushing back her hair as she smiled and walked back to Rafinha. “Good job, Rani. You got ’em all. I’m impressed.”
“They weren’t that strong. You’re the one who was amazing, charging in like that with no hesitation. I still don’t understand how you can dodge Shiny Flow.”
As the duo walked back toward the knights, they were met with a wave of shouted acclamation.
◆◇◆
That night, Inglis and Rafinha relaxed in a bath in the manor.
“This feels great! The lord here sure is generous, letting us unwind here! ♪”
The bath was large and made of stone, decorated with carvings. The water was on the warm side, but that just helped wash their exhaustion away. Rafinha hummed happily.
This had once been the lord’s private bath, but the current lord allowed all to use it. That courtesy extended to even the new arrivals, Inglis and Rafinha, who had the bath to themselves, probably because it was so late.
“Agreed. It’s been too long since we’ve been able to take a nice relaxing bath like this,” Inglis said.
“All the food we can eat, and a fancy private room since we’re girls. This is way better than some inn.”
“They seem to have quite a high opinion of us. Guess all that hard work paid off.”
The manor was already abuzz with tales of how the two of them had taken on dozens of magicite beasts and won. And their exploits had earned them a sizable bonus. The lord, the Highlander woman, had been too busy to meet with them today, but they were told she would receive them tomorrow.
“We blew ’em away! The Decoy Kaboom strategy wins again!” Rafinha cheered.
“I wish we had a better name for it...”
“Hey, you have to admit it’s accurate. ♪” Rafinha stood. “C’mon. I’ll get your back for you.” She pointed to the spacious area for washing up.
“Sure, but,” Inglis paused, “maybe we can get towels first?”
Rafinha had one, but it was perched firmly on her head, and everywhere else was as unabashedly bare as the day she’d been born.
She’s definitely growing up, Inglis thought. A bit slender, but still.
Water flowed down Rafinha’s silky skin.
As Inglis stared, a feeling of guilt overtook her. And that’s why I’d rather we were wearing something. Inglis swiftly draped her own towel over her body as she rose from the bath.
“Oh, c’mon, Chris. You don’t need to get so embarrassed. What do we have to hide from each other?”
“Don’t pull at my towel like that!”
“You’ve got a lot to show off! It’d be a shame to keep it hidden! Don’t be shy, ha ha ha.”
“Ugh, I thought you were just going to wash my back!”
“That was the plan, but you’re so beautiful. I want to take this in for a moment. That voluptuous chest, those beautiful lines, that nice toned butt.”
“Th-The more you say that, the more embarrassing it is.”
To be perfectly honest, Rafinha was right. Inglis’s body had changed a lot for a fifteen-year-old girl. She was acquiring the bearing of a grown woman. However, as good as she looked, she was uncomfortable with her chest. Sure, being well-endowed let her look good in some stunning outfits. She took that into account when choosing her clothes. It wasn’t all bad. She still had reservations, though.
“I wish I looked like you,” Rafinha said with a pause. “I’m so scrawny. Anyway, sit down. I’ll get your back.”
Inglis took a seat. “Don’t worry about it. You’re still growing, right? You’ll do more than just get taller.”
“I’ve been massaging them as much as I can. Isn’t that supposed to make them bigger?” Rafinha lifted a sudsy towel and began to scrub Inglis’s back.
“I know you’ve been trying.”
“Chris, did you have to massage yours?”
“Nope.”
“No fair! I’m so jealous!” Rafinha’s eyes took on a strange gleam, unbeknownst to Inglis. “Gotcha!” Suddenly thrusting her arms under Inglis’s, she latched onto her friend’s chest.
“Eek?! R-Rani, what are you doing?!”
“Whoa! They’re so big and jiggly! So that’s what they feel like. Amazing! Mine are so different. You’re lucky.”
“Okay, okay, fine, you know now! So let go!”
“Hmmm. Not yet. ♪”
“Ugh! Enough! I’ll wash your back now!”
As they bickered together, a woman entered the baths and called out to them. “Oh, is someone already here? You two certainly seem to be enjoying yourselves.”
Her wavy, flaxen hair and soft eyes matched her graceful personality. On her forehead was a Rune-like mark—likely her stigmata. Surprisingly, she seemed to be in her late teens, only a little older than Inglis and Rafinha.
“Good evening,” she said. “Are you the two young lady mercenaries I’ve heard so much about?”
“G-Good evening...” both girls said.
“I’m sorry I was unable to receive you properly. I’m Cyrene, consul to Nova.” The Highlander smiled as she gave a small curtsy.
Inglis and Rafinha couldn’t contain their nerves.
“My name is Inglis Eucus. I apologize for the noise just now.”
“I’m Rafinha Bilford! Sorry for being so loud!”
“Oh, don’t worry about it. There are plenty of louder bathers among us.” Cyrene waved her hand casually, as if being a consul—and a Highlander, no less—meant nothing.
This unsettled Rafinha even more. “What do we do, Chris? She seems normal, but...” she whispered.
“I guess we just got lucky.”
The waitress at lunch had thought she was a good person, and so did the people of the manor. She certainly seemed all right at first glance, but what could be hiding behind that smile?
“Sorry, I didn’t catch that.”
“Oh, nothing!” Inglis and Rafinha answered in unison.
“Mind if I join you for a chat? It seems like such a wonderful opportunity.”
As Cyrene spoke, Inglis and Rafinha could hear the soft patter of footsteps coming from the hallway outside.
“Lady Cyrene!”
“Is it bath time?”
“We stayed up for this!”
A trio of young girls, four to six years old, ran into the room still fully-clothed.
Adorable, Inglis thought. They remind me of Rafinha and me at that age.
Cyrene called them by name. “Oh, my. Rino, Miyumi, Chico. You’re still awake?”
A stout woman in her forties followed hot on their heels. “Oh no! You’re getting your pajamas wet! Come on, back to bed with you...”
“It’s fine, Mimosa. All right, everyone, get out of your pajamas! It’s bath time! Just don’t make any more trouble for Mimosa after this, okay?”
The children jumped for joy.
“Yay!”
“Race you!”
“I’m gonna be first!”
Their footsteps echoed down the hallway as they ran to change.
“Phew, they don’t listen to a thing I say.” Mimosa sighed.
“Sorry, Mimosa. I know it’s hard work.”
“No, I don’t mind. I used to have a son, and he’s... He’s gone now, but they remind me of him.” She smiled before following the children to help them change.
“See? It gets quite lively in here sometimes. And you haven’t even heard the men yet.” Cyrene smiled warmly.
As the children returned, the lively conversation in the bath turned to Inglis and Rafinha themselves, topics like Inglis’s birth in the fortress city of Ymir, Rafinha’s status as the duke’s daughter, Inglis being the captain of the knight’s daughter, their journey to the capital and the knights’ academy there, their dwindling funds, and their choice to earn some coin by working with the knights.
“Aha ha ha! What a wonderful story! And all because of your bottomless stomachs.”
“You have to admit, the food here is amazing. Right, Chris?”
“Yeah. It really is.”
“Then that’s yet another reason for me to be grateful for it,” Cyrene said. “Without it, I’d never have met two amazing women like you.”
Rafinha smiled. “We’ll try our hardest not to be a burden!”
“We won’t be here long, but we appreciate your generosity,” Inglis said.
“And I must thank you as well.” A calm, gentle expression rose to Cyrene’s face.
Rafinha cut in. “Um, can I ask you something?”
“What is it?”
“Those children... Are they the ones we’d heard were being taken care of at the manor?”
“Yes. They’d lost their families and had to resort to begging in the alleys. I couldn’t ignore that.”
“Even though you’re a Highlander?” Inglis probed.
“Maybe because I’m a Highlander.”
“What do you mean?”
“In Highland, children don’t suffer and starve like that. We have enough food from the surface that it’s given out to whoever hungers.”
“Huh. Interesting.”
“It wasn’t until my first visit to the surface, before I became the consul for Nova, that I saw children suffering like that. I realized my assumptions about how the world worked were just assumptions. I started thinking about what I could do to help. That’s why I volunteered to become a consul. In this role, I can help children get off the streets, as well as people who are ill or disabled.”
“I don’t suppose there are many Highlanders who think like you,” Inglis commented.
“You’re not wrong. But it’s not important what other Highlanders think—I only care about what I think, and I want to see these people smile.” Cyrene’s calm expression took on a firm intensity.
“Why, that’s wonderful! I totally agree! We’ll try our hardest! Just tell us what you need done!” Rafinha’s eyes gleamed as she grasped Cyrene’s hand. Her own strong sense of right and wrong gave her an instinctive feel for when others had similar convictions. She was also someone who judged people individually, not as a group. She fully supported Cyrene’s motivations.
Pure and innocent, Inglis thought. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, but if Cyrene had been dispatched to Ymir, would Rafinha feel the same way?
Maybe Rafinha would have. Cyrene definitely seemed to be honest about her motivations. She wasn’t the one who decided to cede land to Highland; she was simply the one who was sent to run it. It was possible her higher-ups did not share her views, though.
“Why, thank you!” Cyrene’s smile gleamed. Maybe she and Rafinha were on the same wavelength.
“There’s one thing I’d like to ask...” Inglis spoke up.
“Yes, go ahead.”
“The flow of mana seems strange here. Is there some reason for that?”
Ever since Inglis had arrived in Nova, she’d felt an eerie pull, like something was dragging the mana of the residents down. Or maybe sucking it away from them? But since almost no one on the surface understood mana, they couldn’t tell. Plus, the force wasn’t strong enough to affect their health. Inglis had noticed Rafinha was moving slower ever since their arrival in Nova, and that was one reason why she had wanted to leave quickly. Although, now that they were here, she had to know what was going on. There could be a worthy foe nearby.
If there is, I’d like to fight it. Was I really only twelve when I last had a satisfying fight? There’s been nothing since Eris, Leon, and Rahl. A three-year drought. C’mon, I don’t want to wait all my life.
Cyrene shook her head. “I’m sorry. I don’t know.”
“I see...”
“I’m not really sure what you mean,” Rafinha said, “but are you sure you’re not imagining things, Chris?”
“Hmm, that’s possible.” Guess I’ll check it out myself, then.
“Can I ask you two a few things, too?” Cyrene inquired.
“Of course!” Rafinha immediately promised.
“Sure, ask away,” Inglis added.
Cyrene’s eyes were deadly serious. “Well, could I ask for your help with something that’s not a magicite beast problem but rather a people problem?”
◆◇◆
Cyrene laid out the situation to Inglis and Rafinha: The previous lord’s knights were making their move. Having maintained their command structure after their dismissal, they had orchestrated several attacks on patrols in the city. Cyrene thought even open rebellion was a possible next step. She had hoped to nip the situation in the bud with rumors of a punitive expedition, but the rebels had reacted by drawing together all their forces for an ambush.
That left the option of a single pitched battle. The rebels outnumbered and outmatched the current knights, but the presence of prodigies like Inglis could change the outcome of the fight. And because Inglis and Rafinha had limited time in Nova, Cyrene decided now was the time to strike.
An urgent plea to save Nova—Inglis was honestly a bit surprised that Cyrene would propose such a risky plan upon first meeting a new mercenary, despite their similar ages and Inglis’s obvious skills. Was it rashness? Was it valor? Or was Cyrene’s back simply to the wall? Inglis had no way to tell, but Rafinha’s enthusiasm suggested that Cyrene did at least have an eye for finding allies. Perhaps the trustworthiness they both shared had brought the three together.
As long as Rafinha wanted to help, Inglis didn’t have any personal objections. Of course, she didn’t have any ideological enthusiasm for the cause. Inglis Eucus had sworn to avoid all of that. This was just a desire to protect Rafinha and find a worthy foe. She doubted she’d find someone like that among the riff-raff of local mercenaries, though.
Three nights after Cyrene had made her request, Inglis marched forth as part of a strike force making their way to an abandoned church outside the city. There were about thirty knights in all, led personally by Cyrene, who expected the rebels would come with greater numbers, only to be defeated and captured. Cyrene had ordered that none be killed if at all possible. If nothing else, Inglis found that to be a more appealing challenge than simply slaughtering them. It was likely one that appealed greatly to Rafinha, too.
“We can see the church now, Chris,” Rafinha murmured.
“Yeah. It’s about time for the ambushers to show up.”
There was plenty of dense cover around the ruined church, including a cave. With all the places to hide, it was the perfect site for an ambush. Inglis could sense them waiting.
“Here they come. Cyrene, everyone, be careful,” Inglis warned.
Cyrene solemnly nodded. “Of course! I believe in you.”
“Don’t worry,” Nash, now with the group again, said. “We’ll protect you with our lives!” He was fired up and ready for battle, hoping his cheer would be infectious for Cyrene’s benefit.
As Cyrene’s knights advanced, the enemy streamed forth from the church, the cave, and the surrounding forest.
“Whoa! Here they come! Just like you thought, Chris!”
“Looks that way.” Inglis calmly counted the opposing force. There were nearly a hundred foes, three times what Cyrene had been able to muster.
In other words, they would pose no real problem.
A burly middle-aged man emerged from the church, crowing in triumph. “Ha ha ha ha! We saw right through your plan! And now we’ve got our Highland usurper right here to get her just deserts!”
“That’s Hawker, the old knight captain! He’s their leader!” Nash explained to Inglis.
Rafinha took up a position in the lead. “So we just have to capture him, right? Let’s go!” She began to charge a weak Shiny Flow, not strong enough to kill anyone but enough to knock them down. Being able to control the power behind an attack was an advantage of her Artifact.
Hawker taunted Cyrene’s force. “Ha ha! You’re outnumbered! There’s no way you can stand against us!”
“It’s not how many troops you have—it’s how you use them!” Rafinha yelled. “More of you just gives me more targets!” Rafinha let loose her shot, and—“Burst!” The arrow of light split and rained down on the rebels.
“Whoa?!” people screamed.
Ten or so rebels were smashed flat, much to their surprise.
“What?! An upper-class rune and Artifact?!”
She might not have been quite the all-powerful savior that holy knights were seen as, but to the average soldier, she was still plenty awe-inspiring.
“Sorry, this is probably overkill for you guys!” Rafinha began to charge a second shot.
“Hold it right there.” A spear flew through the sky and smashed the arrow with a deafening crash.
“Huh? What?!” Rafinha gasped.
The thrower of the spear was a woman with vivid, flowing red hair, who looked around twenty years old. She was tall and slender, beautiful, but the most striking thing about her was her clear, intent gaze.
“Sorry, but I’m gonna have to take you out. You got unlucky running into me.” She effortlessly pulled her spear from the ground as she spoke.
“Ahhh! Watching Sistia fight gives me the chills!” a rebel said.
“Quiet down,” Sistia ordered as she paced toward Rafinha single-mindedly. “I’ll handle her. You guys take out the cannon fodder.”
Inglis recognized her bearing, her aura. This was a hieral menace! She’d felt this same thing from Eris. Why Sistia was here didn’t matter—all that mattered was that a hieral menace was right here, leading the enemy. That was enough to make the situation worthwhile to Inglis.
What luck! The first chance in three years to see how far I’ve come! Inglis thought. She tried her hardest not to show her enthusiasm as she stepped between Rafinha and Sistia.
“Rani, protect Cyrene and the others. I’ll take her on.”
“Okay,” Rafinha said, hesitating. “You know, Chris, you always seem really happy at times like this.”
“Huh? You noticed?” To Inglis, it was embarrassing to look too hungry for a fight, so she had actually been trying to hide her glee.
“Of course. Your eyes look completely different, and you keep smiling for no reason.”
“R-Really?”
So she knew the whole time? Inglis thought. Dammit, she probably thinks I’ve been messing with her.
“And what do we have here? A powerless little girl looking for a fight? Is this some kind of bad joke?” Sistia mocked.
“Heh heh heh.” A charming, innocent smile drew across Inglis’s face as she converted the aether wrapped around her into mana. As soon as she did, Sistia’s expression changed.
“Wh-What?! But I didn’t sense anything until—”
It was vital for Inglis to show opponents her strength in a way they’d understand, so they wouldn’t hold back. She was grateful she’d taught herself that technique.
“I can’t believe it,” Cyrene said, drawing in her breath. “Inglis is incredible...”
Even though Cyrene had taken notice, too, neither Inglis nor Sistia paid her any attention as they squared off.
“Don’t think you’re the strongest one here just because you’re a hieral menace. There are powers beyond even your ken.” Inglis’s eyes glimmered with the sharpness and intensity of a warrior’s. “No holding back. No showing off. Just bring everything you’ve got.” She smiled as she tensed for battle.
“Very well. I haven’t had a good fight in a while. Maybe this will stave off my boredom momentarily. I’ll take you on.” Sistia swept her spear’s head through the air before grinning and taking up her fighting stance.
Not all hieral menaces were as reticent to fight as Eris. Sistia may have been shocked for a moment by the enormous amount of mana Inglis could manifest, but it wasn’t enough to cow her.
Now this is my kind of opponent.
“Looks like we’re on the same page. I’ve been feeling the same way for three years now.”
Inglis felt truly lucky to have met Eris. When she met her again, they’d be on the same side. They might have the opportunity to spar, but it would never be a real fight.
“You’re a cheeky little brat, poking your nose where it doesn’t belong. I’m gonna have to smash it so flat, you won’t be able to poke it anywhere else.” Sistia readied the golden point of her spear as the tip gleamed.
That’s the bloodthirstiness I’m looking for! Enough to make my hair stand on end! I’ve been waiting for someone like this!
“Draw your sword, then,” Sistia challenged, waiting for Inglis.
All Inglis had was a normal sword. When she had fought with Eris, a similar blade had broken. The same was likely to happen in this battle. When it did break, it would be a moment of vulnerability for Inglis, so it would be better not to draw it to begin with. Even though Inglis had a sword on her, that didn’t mean she had much use for it. It couldn’t do anything to magicite beasts, and it’d be destroyed by any serious amount of aether, so Inglis couldn’t combine it with Aether Shell. Artifacts would do the same—at least, the lowest class of Artifacts. She hadn’t tried fighting against anything better with a plain sword, because it’d be a waste if it broke in combat.
The inability of ordinary weapons to stand up to aether had irked Inglis even in her previous life. As a king, she’d overcome it with a holy sword, but Inglis Eucus was not yet worthy of such a weapon. Even if she wanted one, she might as well have asked for the moon.
“Why bother? It’s just a chunk of metal. Now, come on! Show me what you’ve got!” Inglis said.
“Hmph. Let’s find out if you can back your talk up!”
Sistia suddenly leaped forward with the intensity of a gale. In the blink of an eye, she closed the gap between the two, thrusting her spear at Inglis’s face. A normal knight would have been taken down before they could so much as step out of the way, but Inglis tilted her head, letting the point whistle by her ear. The best dodge used the smallest of movements.
Not that such a thing took Sistia by surprise. “Mm-hm!”
It was merely a test. If Inglis couldn’t easily avoid that attack, then she wouldn’t be worthy as an opponent.
“How about this?!”
The next attack was an even faster, fiercer triple strike, swift enough for lesser opponents to think the spear had split into three, but it still wasn’t Sistia’s full potential. Just as before, Inglis twisted out of the way with the minimum effort possible, not even falling back but instead advancing a step with every dodge.
“Hmph, not bad!”
Sistia used more speed, more power, but the thrusts cut around Inglis as the younger girl continued her advance.
“Tch!”
The closer Inglis got, the harder it was for Sistia to effectively use her spear. A step back, another series of thrusts—her attacks all had the same result. Each time Sistia pulled her spear back to thrust again, Inglis advanced. It was proof Inglis had full confidence in her evasion. Sistia, a master of the weapon, saw that proof firsthand.
I’m being driven back?! she thought. And by someone who’s not even attacking—just dodging?!
“Gah!” Sistia felt her back collide with something hard. It was the wall of the church. She hadn’t realized she’d been pushed back so far. Inglis was eating up all her focus.
But if there was no more falling back...
“Haaah!” Sistia let loose a series of thrusts with all her might. This was an attack she was proud of, one capable of smashing giant boulders.
Somehow, not a single strike found its mark.
The smack of a hand falling on her shoulder broke her out of her battle reverie.
“Wow, that was pretty good.”
“Wh—?!” Sistia exclaimed, looking up at an angelic grin in front of her face.
Its innocent cuteness scared her more than anything. Shivers ran up and down her spine. Suddenly, something smashed into her belly—Inglis’s fist. Sistia’s body doubled over before flying backward through the wall of the church. She tumbled along its floor before coming to a stop.
“Ugh...” Swaying a little, she stumbled to her feet. Hieral menaces were, in a word, tough. They could endure far more pain than the average human. About as much as a holy knight, even. They were just built differently.
I’m not done yet! Sistia’s eyes still gleamed with fighting passion.
Inglis spoke quietly to herself as she followed Sistia inside. “Yeah. I’m getting...” She trailed off as her mind began to race.
She was just able to take on a hieral menace without a weapon, and then deliver an attack of her own. Three years ago, even with a weapon, she was pinned down. This time, she was able to go on the offensive. She was definitely getting better.
She nodded approvingly at her own self-improvement. All that practice with Rafinha’s Shiny Flow had taught her a lot about evasion. Lately, seeing the arrows coming had become boring, though, so she had started dodging with her eyes closed and her ears blocked.
“Damn you!” Sistia glared at Inglis with the energy of a mad dog.
“You’ve still got tricks left, right? Show me. Even Eris had an ace up her sleeve. I want to see what yours is.”
“Eris... That must be one of this kingdom’s hieral menaces.”
“You know her?”
“I know of her. We’ve never met in person.”
Eris was one of only two hieral menaces in this country, meaning she was famous in her own right. It wasn’t surprising that Sistia would have heard of her.
And then the other’s...Ripple, I think? Definitely not Sistia, though.
“Can I ask you one thing? Just who are you? What’s an extra hieral menace doing here?” Inglis peppered her with questions.
“Hmph. None of your business.”
No real answer. Not that Inglis really cared, and she wasn’t curious enough to make her answer.
“And what about you?” Sistia asked.
Inglis looked at her quizzically.
“You have so much power. Why are you using it in a Highlander’s service? Don’t you realize they’re trying to take the surface for themselves? Are you just going to watch it happen? Or worse, help them?”
Inglis thought over her words carefully. “Cyrene seems kind. Everyone in the manor likes her.”
Only three days in Cyrene’s service had shown Inglis how highly Cyrene’s retinue regarded the woman. She was extremely popular with the locals, especially the orphans who treated her like a surrogate mother.
“I don’t think it matters who rules in comparison to how they rule,” Inglis insisted.
“Maybe if you only want to see the obvious. By the time you realize what’s really going on, it’ll be too late. Haven’t you noticed what’s happening in this city?”
“You mean, how the mana flows? What of it?”
“Better you find out for yourself.”
So maybe there is something going on there, but...
“...I’m not completely unconcerned, but I’m not here to fight for a cause,” Inglis retorted.
“What?”
“I simply ate more than I budgeted for, so I’m helping her out to earn some money. But now I’m grateful for my appetite. If not for that, we’d never have been able to fight like this.”
“You’re happy so long as you’re fighting? What’s the value in power without purpose?”
“Having fun. That’s it.”
“You fool!” Sistia screamed, enraged at such an answer. “Without purpose, you may as well be a machine!”
“That’s not true. Power is a record of your experiences, your gifts, your practice, and your past battles. It’s fighting without any of those, just an ideal, that makes you a machine.” Inglis reflected on her past life, spent so devoted to her country and its people that she’d had no time for herself. Even just fifteen years of experience may well have brought her further than that lifetime ever did.
“Shut up! People like you don’t deserve to have power!”
“Then take me down and prove it. If you still think you can.” Inglis smirked.
“Silence! You’re just making fun of me!” It was an obvious provocation, but one a proud woman like Sistia couldn’t ignore. She turned a wrathful gaze toward Inglis.
With a low rumble, the very air around Sistia twisted, like she was a mirage.
“Can you handle this?!” She thrust her spear from too far away to reach Inglis, but somehow its point seemed to bend around.
Behind me! Inglis twisted away reflexively, but the golden spearpoint followed, skimming along her side. It was a light wound, but it was still enough to cut through her clothing and draw blood.
“Hmph. Good reflexes.”
“Not bad! I knew you had it in you!” Inglis cheered.
A thrust from outside range that suddenly twisted around and struck from behind—so Sistia could bend space for her attacks.
So this is what a hieral menace is really capable of. She’s dangerous. I avoided that one on reflex, but if she keeps it up...then that’s exactly what I’m looking for! A worthy opponent!
“It’s my turn to laugh now!” Sistia raised her spear again.
“Hah!” Inglis immediately ran as fast as she could. The spear pieced the floor at her feet, but she kept dashing through the church. At full speed, even if Sistia’s thrust came from behind or tried to pin her down, Inglis could avoid it. Coming to a stop was far more dangerous.
“Haaaah!”
Rumble, rumble, rumble!
Sistia’s spear pierced holes in the floor, the windows, the walls, everywhere until the church was riddled with gaps. However, at Inglis’s speed, a few scrapes aside, not one of the blows landed true.
“How about this?!” Suddenly, the tip of the spear appeared dead-center in Inglis’s vision.
Inglis had been avoiding Sistia’s attacks by always sprinting out of the way when they arrived, but this was one attack she couldn’t outpace. That wasn’t a problem, though. It was what she had been waiting for!
“There it is!” Inglis reached out her hand and grabbed the tip of the spear. If I’m ready... I can do this!
“Ngh! What are you—?!” Sistia tried to pull her spear back, but Inglis’s grip was firm.
“Now what?” Inglis locked eyes with Sistia—and got a smug grin back.
“You fool! Now I’ve stopped you!”
Inglis saw Sistia’s long, lithe leg swing into the air and felt something crash into her abdomen. Sistia’s leg had somehow stretched over the distance and struck Inglis.
So her kicks can do the same thing as her spear! That’s a surprise.
That meant if Inglis caught the spear, she was still in danger. Sistia had tricked her. Hieral menaces were really talented. Even when Inglis thought she got under Sistia’s skin, it didn’t stop the hieral menace from looking for openings!
“Ugh...?!” The kick had sent Inglis flying into the air, where she was absolutely vulnerable.
There’s no way I can react in time! she panicked.
“Got you!” Sistia immediately thrust her spear to tear through Inglis.
Then take this!
“Haaaaaaaaah!” A ball of cold light wrapped around Inglis’s body.
She had activated Aether Shell. Sistia’s spear struck her from behind just as the shell blinked into existence, rendering the attack fruitless. The tip barely grazed Inglis’s skin before it was repelled by the aether.
“What?!” The cold light of the aether condensed into a wave, shielding Inglis from harm. All the might behind Sistia’s thrust couldn’t penetrate it.
Sistia gasped in surprise. “Impossible!”
Her priority had come down to what she could do before Inglis recovered. That was her chance, and even repelled at first, she did not give up. In the end, none of her blows struck true, and Inglis was regaining her footing. Upon landing, the girl had crouched, shoved off the floor—
And disappeared.
At least, that was how it looked to Sistia. It was as if a single bolt of lightning had struck.
Crashhh!
Suddenly, Sistia felt herself being lifted into the air as a shock like she’d never felt before struck her solar plexus. She had never noticed the knee whirling toward her. “Agh! Ugh... I can’t believe...”
Her knees hit the ground, her legs trembling and unable to lift her back up. Her spear, slipping from her hands, clattered to the floor.
Again, Inglis clapped her on her shoulder, smiling in approval. “That was a good fight. It was a lot more fun than I expected.”
Inglis had simply countered with a knee after shielding herself with Aether Shell. Because that technique boosted her physical capabilities tremendously, Sistia simply couldn’t perceive Inglis at full speed.
I still couldn’t pull it off without using aether, though, Inglis lamented silently. There’s a lot I need to keep working on. Thanks for showing me that.
“Gah! I’ll never be able to face—”
Just then, a third voice cut in. “Chris! We’ve captured everyone outside! How are you— Gccck?! Ngh!” Rafinha had come to check on Inglis but immediately found a hand wrapped around her own neck.
“Rani?!”
“Don’t move!” Sistia commanded. She had closed the distance in the blink of an eye to put Rafinha in a choke hold.
Inglis stayed quiet, still.
“I can’t let myself be captured here! If you want her to live, let me go!” Sistia said desperately.
“Sure, fine. You’re leaving? Go right ahead.” Inglis held up her hands to make it clear that she wasn’t going to stop Sistia.
Sistia circled warily around Inglis, not averting her eyes even as she picked up her spear and made her way to the back door of the church. Her staggered gait made her injuries clear.
“I have one other thing to say to you,” Inglis said.
“What?”
“If you want to fight me, I’m ready anytime. If you think it’s not going well, go ahead—back off and regroup. I want the practice. I want to get stronger. I’ll fight you as many times as you like. But if you ever lay a finger on Rani again, you’re a dead woman.”
Sistia didn’t know what to say to that.
For a moment, a cold, murderous look swept across Inglis’s face. Sistia shivered in horror. It was far worse than any she’d seen even during the fight.
At that moment, Sistia fully understood the depths of Inglis’s passion.
“That’s all. Until we meet again.” As suddenly as it had appeared, Inglis’s sharp gaze softened, replaced with the innocent smile of a girl who wouldn’t hurt a fly.
Sistia couldn’t understand her at all. Who on earth was this girl?
Before Sistia realized words were coming out of her mouth, she asked, “What’s your name?”
“Inglis Eucus.”
“I’m Sistia Rouge. Until we meet again.” Sistia let loose her grip on Rafinha and slipped away.
“Rani! Are you okay?!”
Rafinha coughed for a bit before speaking. “Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry to ruin the moment like that.”
“Don’t worry about it. The fight was already over, so it’s fine. Let’s head back if you’re done, too.” Inglis pulled Rafinha to her feet and patted her head.
“Yeah, we got ’em all. There should be a nice big reward waiting for us.”
“Yeah. I’m satisfied with how my end turned out, too. I haven’t had a fun fight like that in a while. Sometimes your ideas turn out really well.”
“All right, let’s head back.”
“Yeah.”
Inglis and Rani smiled as they nodded to each other.
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