Prologue
It’s Time for a War in the Oriana Kingdom!
Sometimes, people realize it when they’re having a dream.
For Rose Oriana, it always happens at the same moment.
In the dream, she’s at the Bushin Festival.
Her father is standing before her.
She draws her blade and stabs him with it.
Slowly but surely, slowly but surely.
The world is quiet, and the only things gently moving are Rose, her father, and the sword.
Slowly but surely, slowly but surely.
The blade runs her father through.
She can’t stop it. She can’t pull it back. Time just flows forward, cruel in its slowness and its surety.
For as long as she lives, Rose will never be able to forget the way his flesh felt as it gave, or how warm his blood was as it sprayed her.
She can’t cry. She can’t scream. She certainly can’t run.
Her father looks at her. He’s trying to tell her something.
Then, he extends his arms toward her—and wraps his hands around her throat.
“I will never forgive you.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m…”
Every morning, Rose wakes to the sound of her own voice.
All her room has in it is a bed and a small desk. She’s in a Shadow Garden base in the Oriana Kingdom.
“Father…”
Tears stream down her cheeks.
The image from the nightmare is burning into her retinas.
What had her father tried to say to her on that fateful day?
Had he resented her?
Had he hated her?
Were those words he spoke in her nightmare truly how he felt?
Rose clutches at her sweat-drenched sheets.
Then, someone knocks on her door.
It’s Number 664.
“Number 666, it’s time.”
“On my way.”
Rose dries her tears and gets changed.
She takes off the thin shirt sticking to her sweaty skin, and a mound of black slime coils its way across her bare flesh.
It’s her slime bodysuit.
It conducts magic at a tremendous rate and can be molded freely into any shape or form. When Rose runs her magic through it, it strengthens to the point where the average dark knight would have trouble so much as scratching it.
The bodysuits are groundbreaking enough they could revolutionize the entire dark knight world, and yet they’re only one of the many innovations the Shadow Garden has made.
When Rose finishes changing and steps out into the hallway, she finds her usual squadmates waiting for her—Numbers 664 and 665.
“Good morning,” she greets them.
“Let’s get a move on,” Number 664 replies.
“Mooornin’, 666,” says 665.
Number 664 sets off at a brisk pace, and Rose and 665 follow her.
The hallway’s walls and ceiling are artificial, gray, and unadorned. They’re made of a secret material the Shadow Garden is researching called “reinforced concrete.” It’s unimpressive to look at, but that just makes the carpet and lighting stand out all the more.
The lights are made from specially cut, highly transparent crystal glass. Their glow casts radiant shadows across the hallway.
They, too, are the fruits of a manufacturing process exclusive to the Shadow Garden, used to make Mitsugoshi’s high-end chandeliers.
The cheapest models cost a whopping ten million zeni, but even so, they fly off the shelves like there’s no tomorrow.
Rumor has it that, someday, Mitsugoshi, Ltd. plans on putting its myriad techniques to use in the construction industry.
Rose lets out a small sigh at the sheer degree of engineering prowess on display in just that one hallway.
It still amazes her how all of it originally sprang from Shadow’s Shadow Wisdom. Not only are his combat skills ferocious, his intellect seems nigh bottomless, too. She wonders how he came to be that way.
“I heard that,” Number 664 says. By “that,” she means Rose’s sigh. “If there’s something weighing on you, you should tell me about it. I can tell you’ve got a lot going on.”
“No, no, it’s nothing.”
“…If you say so.”
Number 664 is a petite elf a year older than Rose. She’s strict but responsible, which is why she was chosen as a squad leader.
Number 665 is an elf with a lazy streak who’s the same age as Rose. She always looks like she’s about to doze off.
Not only are they both attractive, most standards would rate each of them as a first-rate dark knight.
Within their organization, however, both of them are closer to the bottom of its rankings than to the top.
Rose is Number 666.
The numbers refer strictly to the order in which they joined. They aren’t a ranking system.
However, each set of 100 tends to be a good deal stronger than the next, so the numbers end up being a decent measure anyway.
That said, there are exceptions.
Rose got a chance to see Number 559 spar once.
Her opponent was Number 89. With a four hundred–plus numerical gap, Number 559 shouldn’t have stood a chance.
Yet she won all the same—an overwhelming victory.
This earned her the right to challenge the Numbers.
The Shadow Garden is surprisingly regimented.
Rose felt like her magic had gotten stronger. She felt as though joining the Shadow Garden would let her start changing things. She felt that if she became strong, she could save the Oriana Kingdom.
But she hasn’t been able to change anything.
“I need to work even harder…,” she murmurs to herself as she chases after the two elves ahead of her.
Today, Number 559 will be heading up their mission.
The three of them leave the base in the dead of night and silently race across a snow-covered field.
Rose spots a fortress off in the distance.
An attractive girl stands on a small hill overlooking it.
“There you are,” she says as she turns around.
Her strawberry blond hair sways elegantly behind her. Illuminated in the moonlight as she is, even a fellow girl like Rose can see how sublimely beautiful she is.
She’s the Shadow Garden’s one and only Number 559.
“Our apologies for keeping you waiting.”
“You know the details?” 559 says, succinct as ever.
“No, we were just told that it would involve Fort First.”
“I see.”
Number 559 exhales a puff of white as she turns her back to them and begins explaining.
“Two days ago, Fort First fell into the Perv Faction’s hands.”
At the moment, the Oriana Kingdom is locked in a fierce conflict between the Perv Faction and the Anti-Perv Faction. No major battles have broken out yet, but minor skirmishes in outlying regions are becoming a regular occurrence.
“Fort First is a small fortress near the Midgar border of little strategic value. The important part is that the Cult secretly mobilized the Children of Diablos to take it.”
The First Children are the Cult’s cream of the crop. Using them to take an unimportant fortress would be a complete waste of resources.
“There’s more to Fort First than meets the eye,” Number 559 goes on. “Our job is to sneak in and find out what the Cult is after. I take it you know why you were chosen for the mission?”
She turns her gaze toward Rose, who replies, “Because I already know the fort’s layout.”
Fort First lies cradled in the mountains, and the royal family often uses it as a vacation home to escape the summer’s heat.
“That’s part of it. But not all.”
With that, Number 559 descends the hill and starts making her way across the snowfield as gracefully as a bird soaring through the sky.
Rose and the others hurriedly follow her.
“I was the one who nominated you, Rose Oriana.”
Rose falters for a moment at being called by her real name.
Among the Shadow Garden’s ranks, the identity of Number 666 as Rose Oriana is something of an open secret.
“Master Shadow granted you power.”
Numbers 664 and 665 look at Rose in shock. “What?”
The only ones granted power by Shadow himself were the initial seven—the Seven Shadows. The Seven Shadows stand in a league of their own in the Shadow Garden, and that blessing Shadow had given them is part of what makes them so special.
Rose gives them a small nod. “…It’s true.”
Sure enough, Shadow was the one who saved her from the ravages of the possession.
“He did the same for me,” Number 559 says.
“Really…?”
“Master Shadow granted me strength, just as he did to you. Aside from the Seven Shadows, you and I are the only two to have received that privilege.” She casts Rose a scrutinizing gaze, then mutters, “So weak.”
“ ”
“As Master Shadow’s faithful servant, it’s my duty to purge any who are unworthy of his grace.”
She turns her back on Rose.
Soldiers’ corpses are left piled high within Fort First.
Rose bites her lip as she looks down from atop the rampart.
Her actions are what started the war, and this is where it’s brought her.
Her soldiers are dying, and her people are suffering.
To Rose, however, the most painful part of all is that she’s helpless to do anything about it.
Perhaps she was conceited.
Perhaps she believed that what she did would change something.
But now, she’s nothing more than one of the Shadow Garden’s foot soldiers. The organization is filled to bursting with people stronger and wiser than she is, and joining them has taught her just how small she truly is.
“What’s wrong, 666?”
What role can she play in this war?
It feels like the soldiers’ pain-contorted faces are all glaring resentfully at her.
“Number 666!”
Rose is jolted back to the present by the sensation of someone shaking her shoulders.
Number 664 looks at her worriedly.
“Sorry, it’s nothing,” Rose replies.
Number 664 smiles. “Try not to let it get to you, okay?”
Number 559 has been observing the Cult’s movements, and she speaks up. “They’re on the move.”
A group of people dressed in black robes emerges from the fortress’s moonlit front gate.
“There’s over forty of them,” Number 665 notes.
Number 559’s lips contort into a pleased smile. “That’s more than I expected.”
“What do we do?”
“Follow them from a distance.”
Number 559 takes the lead, and the four of them head through the darkness. They take great care not to make a sound.
The robed group makes its way into a forest near the fortress.
“We’ll use the forest to let us get closer,” Number 559 says.
“Roger that.”
“And keep your guard up. Given how strong they look, they’re probably all First Children.”
“All of them?!”
The First Children are the strongest forces the Cult has, and there aren’t all that many of them. Having forty of them all in the same place is a highly unusual occurrence.
“What’s in the forest, 666?” 559 asks.
“Just some historical ruins. It used to be a shrine memorializing those lost in the battle against Diablos, but most of it’s fallen into disrepair.”
“Ruins, hmm. I figured as much…”
Number 559 seems to understand what’s going on.
They enter the forest and gradually close the gap between them and the Cult members. Before long, they arrive at the ruins.
The robed group surrounds the shrine’s altar.
Rose and the others watch them quietly from behind cover.
“There’s no mistaking it… This…a door…”
Rose can just barely make out their leader’s words. His face is illuminated by torchlight, and she can see the scars on the middle-aged man’s cheeks.
“That’s Kouadoi the Gale, one of the Cult’s leaders.”
“…I see.” Number 559’s lips contort into a smile once again.
“To the altar…with…left to…Queen Reina.” Kouadoi pulls a petite woman from the crowd of robed figures and makes her stand in front of the altar.
When she takes off her robe, Rose’s throat trembles.
“M-Mother…?”
The woman is, without a doubt, the very same woman who birthed her. The Cult must have threatened her into following their orders.
Rose doesn’t understand. She was told that all the Oriana royalty were under the Anti-Perv Faction’s protection.
“Why is my mother here…?”
Did the Cult catch her? Or did the Shadow Garden simply lie to her?
Rose’s mind races at a mile a minute.
“Put your hand there.”
When Queen Reina follows Kouadoi’s order and holds out her hand, magical runes flash brightly across the altar’s surface.
“Just as we thought… Royalty… Blood is the key…”
The light dies down, leaving a small band floating above the altar.
It’s a ring.
“Sure enough… This is…the Oriana Kingdom’s…”
Kouadoi places the ring in a small box.
“Get ready to fight,” says Number 559. The twisted smile never leaves her face.
Number 664 offers her a hushed objection. “B-but this was supposed to be a recon mission!”
“That ring is the key. We need to wipe them out and retrieve it.”
“That doesn’t tell me anything. What’s this ‘key’?”
“That’s need-to-know. And right now, the only thing you three need to know is that failure to retrieve it isn’t an option. All you should be thinking about is how we can do that.”
Peons like Number 664 and Rose are rarely privy to confidential information. The Shadow Garden runs a tight ship when it comes to information management.
“But we’re at a huge disadvantage!”
There are four of them and forty Cultists. They’re outnumbered ten to one.
“So?” Number 559 coolly draws her ebony blade. “It’s execution time.”
“P-please, wait!” Rose cries. “That’s my mother down—”
Number 559 ignores her.
She dashes forward, reaching the altar in the blink of an eye. Her blade extends in her hand.
She plans on mowing everyone down in one fell swoop.
“Wh-who goes there?!”
The Children draw their swords as well.
The moment they do, a horribly shrill noise rings out.
The strike from Number 559 cleaves through swords like toothpicks and bisects some of the Children with the same ease.
“It’s the Shadow Garden! Spread out!!”
A shock wave so powerful runs through the area it’s evocative of an attack from the Seven Shadows themselves.
An alarmed stir runs through the Cultists, but they quickly regain their composure and scatter. However, Number 559 simply uses that time to start cutting them down one by one.
For her next target, she chooses Queen Reina.
“Mother!”
In that moment, an image of her father’s face flashes through Rose’s mind.
It’s an image she’s seen over and over in her dreams. Pierced through the chest, he coughs up blood as the life fades from him.
“NOOOOO!!”
Rose reaches out, grabs her mother, and dodges the strike from Number 559.
The queen looks at Rose in shock.
“Rose…?”
“Mother!”
Rose holds her mother tight.
“Why? Why would you attack my mother?!”
Her honey-colored eyes burn with rage as she glares at Number 559.
“…Hmph.”
Number 559 gives her a coldhearted smile.
Rose squeezes Queen Reina tight to protect her, but the fact remains that they’re surrounded by Cultists. The Cultists level their swords at the two of them.
“Any sudden moves, and they die,” Kouadoi says. “Even catching us by surprise, taking out nine First Children is no mean feat. You must be one of the Seven Shadows.”
Nine corpses lie scattered around them.
“Sorry,” Number 559 replies, “but I’m not one of the Seven.”
“You aren’t?! You must at least be one of the higher-ranked Numbers, then.”
“For the time being, I’m merely Number 559…”
“A member of the rank and file has access to power like that…?!” Kouadoi’s eyes go wide with shock. “W-well, no matter. Strong or not, your end is nigh.”
He waves his arm, and three of the black-cloaked Cultists lower their hoods.
Numbers 664’s and 665’s faces contort in despair.
“It can’t be… Three of the Cult’s leaders are here?!”
Number 559’s face contorts as well, but in her case into a smile.
Kouadoi places his sword at the nape of Rose’s neck. “Don’t try anything funny. We have hostages.”
“Do as you will,” Number 559 replies.
“What?”
“That woman is unfit to serve the Shadow Garden.” The density of her magic swells. “It’s executions for the lot of you.”
Rose and her mother are bound and dragged off. The last thing she sees when she turns back is Number 559, surrounded by Cultists.
I sit in a tavern in Fort First’s castle town, drinking my apple juice and listening to the exposition.
After fleeing from Delta, I ended up dashing all the way over the border and sneaking into the Oriana Kingdom.
“War’s broken out. Lord Kouadoi controls the area around Fort First, and many of the residents here have died.”
“Hmm. Hmm. I see.”
I idly murmur every so often to show I’m paying attention. The hostess is a bombshell named Marie. I feel like I’ve seen her before, but I’m probably just imagining things.
From what I hear, 90 percent of the guys in this tavern are trying to get in her pants.
“Things are all kinds of messed up right now. The soldiers are shaking us down for everything we have.”
“Damn, that’s rough,” I offer.
“I’m afraid you picked a bad time to get stuck in Oriana, Cid. I only just opened this tavern myself, and—”
The basic gist of it is that Oriana doesn’t have a king right now, so there are two factions vying for power.
Factional disputes, war… Stuff like this just has a kind of je ne sais quoi to it. These kinds of scenarios always have an opening or two for an eminence in shadow to burst onto the scene and strut his stuff.
“I’m sure it’ll all end up fine, though,” Marie says hopefully.
“Yeah, for sure.”
“We can’t give up, that’s all. As long as we keep hanging in there, we’ll figure out how to get through this.”
“For sure, yeah.”
Marie’s eyes gleam as she gazes off into the distance. Except there isn’t any distance to gaze off into. Just the tavern’s dingy door.
Then, the door swings open.
A trio of the worst-mannered soldiers imaginable struts in.
“Hey lady, hand over your profits!”
As a man with a chariot once said, reality is cruel.
“Th-that’s not fair! I just gave you all the money I—”
“Shaddup! If you don’t give us cash, you’ll have to pay us with your body!”
“Y-you can’t—”
“Hey!”
A brave young man plants himself squarely in front of the tyrannical soldiers.
You guessed it—it’s yours truly!
At first, I was thinking that the most normie thing to do would be to cower to the side like all the other patrons, but nah. This one calls for a classic.
“L-l-leave Marie alone!”
It’s that setup where the power of love inspires a boy to take on a group of soldiers—and fails miserably!
“Ack!”
A single punch sends me flying, and blood streams from my nose as I pull off a perfect rotation and a half in the air and land squarely on my face.
Heh. A beautiful rendition of “background character getting his shit kicked in.”
“Cid!” Marie cries.
The soldier sneers at her. “Heh-heh. You’re up next.”
“H-here, you can have the money! Just take it!”
Marie scoops up her earnings and hands them over to the soldiers.
“Ha, shoulda just done that from the— Hey, there’s barely anything here!”
“Th-that’s everything I have. Restocking’s been hard lately…”
“You think I’m some chump?!”
The soldier grabs Marie by the collar.
“I’ll let you off this time. Next time, though, we might not be so generous.”
He and his soldier buddies look her up and down like she’s a piece of meat, then leave the tavern.
“Cid, are you okay?”
Marie leans down next to me and lays my head on her lap.
“Ow, ow… Sorry, Marie…”
“That was so reckless!”
“Sorry…they took all your money…”
“It’s fine.” She strokes my head and smiles.
“You seem calm about all this.”
“I used to live in the Lawless City. You get used to these sorts of things.”
I love the Lawless City. I think of it as my home away from home.
“I worked there as a prostitute for a long time. Violence like this was just a fact of life there, and I came this close to giving up more times than I can count. But I never did. And because of that, I was there when he showed up and saved me.”
Her eyes practically glitter.
“That’s why I refuse to give up. I have this feeling that if I keep fighting, I’ll meet him again someday…”
“Cool, cool. Well, I gotta get going.”
“Thank you for stepping in like that, Cid. It made me really happy.”
Marie sees me off with a smile.
Three soldiers stroll down the chilly nighttime road.
“Ha-ha, what a pushover. And what’s a pretty thing like her doing in a backwater town like this?”
Their sack of gold jingles as they walk.
“Hell if I know, man. I hear the plan is to kill all the villagers to make sure none of ’em talk, though.”
“Something about an important ruin nearby, yeah. Heh-heh, might as well enjoy ourselves before we put the poor bastards down.”
Their breath escapes from their mouths in white puffs as they chat.
When they step into an alley, they find a boy there.
“Heya,” he says with a grin.
He’s got black hair, black eyes, and looks as average as can be.
“Hey, you’re that kid from earlier.”
“Who? Oh yeah, that pathetic pip-squeak who went down in a single punch.”
“Ha-ha, let’s kill the little shit.”
The soldiers draw their swords without hesitating so much as a second.
However, the boy isn’t there anymore.
“Where’d he go?!”
“The hell?! He’s gone!”
“Ah! Behind us!”
Sure enough, the boy is behind them.
He’s standing there as though nothing happened.
“Going straight for blood? You guys’d fit right in at the Lawless City.” He nods. “I love it.”
“How the hell’d you get over there, kid?!”
“There’s something off about this guy…”
“C’mon, guys, get your shit together!”
One of the soldiers swings his sword in a wide arc.
But the boy isn’t there.
“H-he’s gone again!”
They hear the boy’s voice again, though they’re not sure where from. “Makes things real simple.”
“Where’d he—? Glourgh!”
The boy is behind them again. He’s holding the heart of one of the soldiers in his hand.
Blood splatters atop the snow on the ground.
“H-how?! How’d he rip your heart out with his bare hands?!”
“It doesn’t make sense! Earlier, he went down in a single—”
The boy flows seamlessly from one motion to the next.
After tossing aside the dripping heart, he makes his way behind the fleeing soldier and thrusts his arm right through the man’s chest.
“Gahhh! H-help…”
He squeezes down and crushes the second heart.
A flower of blood blossoms on the ground.
“L-look, I’m sorry, okay! I’m sorry I punched you!”
The boy turns his bloodstained hand toward the final soldier.
“In the Lawless City, might makes right.”
“E-eek! Someone, save m—”
He pierces straight through him.
Blood spills onto the alleyway yet again.
“And that makes me right.”
Moonlight streams down, illuminating the three corpses with holes in their chests.
“A fortress and some ruins, huh? I like the sound of that.”
The boy discards the final heart and picks the bag of gold up off the ground.
Then, he turns and looks at the fortress off in the distance.
“Y-you’re a monster…,” Kouadoi mutters.
Number 664 can’t help but agree with the assessment.
She’s slumped against one of the forest’s trees, and Number 665 is collapsed by her feet.
The two of them are fresh out of mana. They’re in no state to fight.
Yet even so, there are corpses piled all around them.
There are easily a hundred bodies in total.
Number 559 stands at the center of the grim carnage, covered in blood from head to toe.
She’s been fighting ever since Rose got dragged off. Not only did she put down the three Cult leaders among the robed figures, she also butchered the reinforcements the Cult sent from the fortress.
Nothing can stop Number 559 as she races through the forest. By now, the battle has lasted three full days and nights.
However, that isn’t to say that 559 has emerged unscathed.
Her back has been sliced, her gut has been rent, and her left arm is completely gone from the elbow down. Her right hand still holds her ebony blade, but it dangles powerlessly by her side.
It’s a surprise she’s still standing.
Even now, blood is still gushing from her stump of a left arm.
She doesn’t have the mana left to stanch the bleeding.
“L-looks like your well’s finally run dry,” Kouadoi says, his voice trembling. “You just don’t know when to quit, do you?”
He walks over to her and sends her flying with a kick to the side.
“Agh…!”
She crumples to the ground with an uncharacteristically frail scream.
Kouadoi plants his foot on her neck.
“Perhaps I’ll just crush your throat here and now.”
He gradually presses down harder and harder.
“No, that would be too quick a death for the likes of you. D-do you have any idea how many people we lost because of you?”
A twitchy smile spreads across his face as he squeezes Number 559’s neck.
“We didn’t lose them for nothing, though, so that’s something. We got our hands on Rose Oriana. Duke Perv will be delighted.”
He pulls out a letter and examines it with obvious satisfaction.
“Where to start, where to start? Your good arm? Your legs? Your eyes, maybe?”
He runs his sword across Number 559’s body, leaving shallow wounds in its wake. Without mana running through it, her slime bodysuit offers her nothing in the way of protection.
Number 664 and Number 665 are helpless to do anything but watch.
“What’s with that look?” A puzzled expression comes over Kouadoi’s face as he gazes down at Number 559.
She’s smiling.
The smile is radiant and beautiful.
“You’re here to save me again…”
Tears spill from her eyes.
“God, you’re creepy. Let’s see if one fewer arm can fix that.”
Kouadoi starts bringing down his sword. Emphasis on “starts.”
“Aaaargh!”
Instead of finishing his strike, however, he crumples to the ground with a scream. Everything from his ankle down has been sliced to ribbons.
“B-but how…?”
Number 559 calmly rises to her feet.
She’s holding something in her right hand.
It’s what’s left of Kouadoi’s foot.
“Y-you were supposed to be out of mana… How is this possible…?”
At some point, the area around Number 559 has become full of swirling bluish-purple magic.
It’s so dense it causes the air itself to tremble, and Number 559’s wounds are closing before Kouadoi’s eyes.
Next, the magic gathers at her severed left arm.
It condenses even further, glowing all the while.
Then…
“This is the power he possesses.”
Number 559’s left arm is as good as new.
Kouadoi turns and flees. “I thought the Seven Shadows were supposed to be the only monsters in the Shadow Garden… But you’re just as bad!”
Even with his foot torn to shreds, he’s still worthy of the title “the Gale.”
He moves faster than the eye can see, perceptible only as a gust of wind.
“How foolish,” Number 559 murmurs. “You’ve stepped right into his range.”
Blood sprays through the air like flower petals.
Minced chunks of Kouadoi roll across the ground. His final expression is one of naked shock.
The sound of black longboots rings out.
Clop. Clop.
“It’s been too long…”
Number 559 kneels, her face flushed with joy.
A man in a jet-black longcoat strides out from the darkness. Streaks of blood shine ominously on his ebony sword.
“…Master Shadow.”
Number 664 hurriedly kneels as well.
Nobody is at Fort First when I go to check it out, but I sense people using magic in the forest right beside it. When I get there, I spot a familiar-looking girl with strawberry blond hair who looks like she’s in a bit of trouble.
If I remember correctly, her name is Victoria.
I met her last year when I was on one of my cross-country strolls. She had the possession, so I cured her, then left her with Alpha.
She was so timid she wouldn’t hurt a fly back then, so I’m kinda surprised to find her fighting for her life while totally drenched in blood
I can see she’s in pain, so I heal her, but she should still probably take it easier in the future. Then, I slice up the old guy who was bullying her.
“Are you okay?” I ask her.
“Yes, sir,” Victoria replies.
Well, that’s good, at least.
It does beg the question, though: What was she doing brawling with all these soldiers?
“What happened here?”
“I made a mistake. The Cult of Diablos has already put their plan into motion.”
A mistake, huh?
It must be something she’s too embarrassed to tell anyone about. She was probably doing something illegal, and the soldiers caught her. I’m impressed she was able to come up with that cover story about the Cult of Diablos so quickly, though.
Aside from Victoria, I also spot the two girls who were hanging out with Rose the other day.
Neither of them look like they’re hurt too badly, but I decide to heal ’em, too, just to be on the safe side.
“Th-thank you so much!”
“Thaaanks.”
I like these two. They’ve got good manners.
“…Master Shadow, I have a report.”
Victoria tugs on my coat with a bit of a huffy look on her face.
Man, this takes me back. After I healed her last year, she used to tug on my coat all the time.
“It’s about Number 666. The traitor.”
Who?
Look, I get that Mitsugoshi calls its employees by their ID numbers, but you can’t seriously expect me to remember six hundred different people.
“A traitor, you say…?”
The girl who looks like a chairwoman type jumps in to defend the supposed traitor. “N-no! Number 666 isn’t a traitor—she was just trying to protect her mother!”
“Huh…”
Ah, I see. This “Number 666” must have betrayed Mitsugoshi. They probably stole corporate secrets about some new product and ran off with them.
I nod in comprehension, and Victoria tugs on my coat in even more of a huff than before.
“Number 666 is unworthy of your grace, my lord. I swear, I’ll—”
All of a sudden, a cold gust of wind blows a letter toward us.
“Hmm?”
It piques my interest, so I open it and read it.
“Save the date! Princess Rose Oriana and Duke Perv Asshat are getting married!”
“What…?”
Rose is getting married?
I thought the whole reason she killed her dad at the Bushin Festival was so she could become the new monarch, though.
Plus, this guy she’s marrying is her old fiancé, the guy she already dumped. Why go back and marry him now?
Something is up.
Don’t tell me she gave up on becoming the monarch, did she?
“This is unacceptable.”
I shred the letter, down to the particulate level.
The existence of light is what makes darkness so radiant.
If Rose becomes the monarch, my eminence in shadow playacting will become that much cooler.
“Wh-what?!” the chairwoman-y girl cries. “But that’s not fair!”
“I expected nothing less of you, my lord!” Victoria crows.
“I refuse to let this stand.”
There’s no way I’m letting this wedding go through.
They might have their parents’ blessings, but they damn well don’t have mine.
“I’m coming for you, Rose Oriana.”
Come on, Rose! Remember why you stabbed your old man?
It was to become Oriana’s monarch, wasn’t it?!
“Then I leave taking care of the traitor to you, my lord.”
“No… Number 666…”
I’m not totally sure why, but Victoria’s eyes are gleaming, and the elf girl duo seems to be overcome with despair. I leave them behind, kicking up snow in my wake as I dash full speed ahead.
…Oh, shoot. I gotta go back and pay for that apple juice first.
Marie’s eyes snap open in the dead of night. It’s quiet and oh-so-very cold.
Her window is slightly ajar. That’s odd; she’s sure she closed it before she turned in for the night.
Her breath hangs white in the air as she gets out of bed. The moment she does, something moves beside her window.
“Wh-who’s there?”
“………”
There’s a person standing there. Moonlight streams into the room.
“What?” She recognizes that black longcoat. “A-are you…?”
The window swings open, and the figure disappears in the blink of an eye.
“Please, hold on a moment!”
Marie rushes over to the window.
However, there’s no one there anymore.
“I wonder if that was him…”
Most people would just assume it was a burglar who got away.
However, Marie has someone she can’t help but look for.
She looks for him when she’s walking around town, or when she’s working. She never stops looking. For some reason, even the boy at her tavern today reminded her of him.
“I’m such a fool…”
Then, when she goes to close the window, she notices a large bag lying on the floor.
“What could this be? Oh my—”
When she opens it and finds the mountain of gold coins piled within, tears begin spilling from her eyes. Marie hugs the bag tightly to her chest. It’s still a little warm.
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