Cooperation
Cooperation
After taming Laika, there was nothing left but to clean up the surroundings, so there was nothing difficult about it.
I deliberately ignored the minor issue of the burnt corpses offending my sight and smell as I checked the bandits' belongings, and after taking a look around, the conclusion I reached pissed me off, just as I'd expected.
"The moment we get back, I'm killing that motherfucker Guildmaster."
Forget our spoils of war—there hadn't even been a word from him. It was only to be expected, but that didn't stop me from being furious. Sen, who was beside me, clicked her tongue and shook her head.
"They're low on their own food, yet they steal loot. Not even goblins would do that. How could they believe such an excuse would work?"
"I don't think their excuses and pretexts are planned. Do enough shitty things with backing that'll let you get away with it, and eventually you stop seeing anything around you."
"Oh..."
I answered as flatly as possible, but my teeth were grinding. The only reason this rage was able to settle at a relatively quick pace was Laika, who was bouncing around with such innocent joy.
[Huff huff! Fun! So fun!]
I had no intention of using the Demon Sword's power, nor did I need a sword at the moment, so I decided to just leave Laika in dog form. Watching them so happy like that, it didn't seem like a bad choice. Their face looked a bit fierce, but in its own way, that was healing. Well, their 'dog-ness' remained extremely strong, so I could probably raise them like a hunting dog, and that wasn't bad either.
As I was watching Laika, Seneran sidled up and asked.
"Won't you regret it? If you get used to that form, you won't be able to turn Laika back into a sword later."
"Saving Laika out of pity and then using them in that pitiful state is the kind of personality that would make even a demon weep. Anyway, if they bounce around like that, they'll have their own uses. More importantly, do I have to keep giving them blood?"
"If you'd kept Laika in sword form, they would have calmed down after being fed a certain amount of blood and then left alone. But running around like that means you'll have to keep feeding them, right?"
"Can't I just give Laika Magic Power?"
"...Oh?"
Seneran's reaction, her eyes shining with scholarly passion, served as the answer, so I decided to test it immediately.
"Laika, come here."
[Master? Huff! Master! Huff!]
Because Laika's body was made of metal, their paws made a clang! clang! sound every time they hit the ground, yet Laika came running over joyfully.
"Doesn't Laika lack respiratory organs? They're huffing and puffing out of habit."
"If Laika stayed still in sword form, their power would accumulate, but being active like that uses it up. I think that's a reaction linked to the senses a Demon Sword possesses."
"Unnecessarily realistic..."
Still, the fact that Laika wouldn't need potty training was a comfort, second only to the fact that Laika wouldn't shed fur or need bathing.
"Laika. Are you hungry?"
Laika, who had dashed over and sat down with razor-sharp precision, tilted their head at my question, then smiled brightly and nodded.
[Hungry! After running, I'm hungry!]
"Good. I'm going to try something on you now, so pay close attention and see if your belly feels full."
[Okay!]
Laika's vocabulary was so poor that I had my doubts about whether they truly understood, but for now I placed my hand on their head and flowed Magic Power into them, just as I did with a sword. Since they could even block a sword I'd imbued with a considerable amount of Magic Power, I was confident they wouldn't suddenly go parkin! and die. As I kept pouring Magic Power into them, Laika's eyes grew wide.
[Ooooh-whuh?]
And then, like a cat clamped on the neck by a laundry clip, Laika went completely rigid and flopped over onto their back.
Startled by the abnormal behavior, I hurriedly pulled my hand back, and just as I was about to ask if Laika was okay, Laika spoke in a voice that was strained yet blissful.
[Huff... huff... M-Master. I'm so full I think I'm gonna die.]
"Whoa, shit. You scared me. Are you hurt anywhere?"
[Yeah! I'm fine! It's just... I normally had to convert blood into Magic Power on my own, and that process is gone! So easy!]
"......"
"What did Laika say? Did it work?"
It was such a shame that I was the only one who could hear Laika speaking. I was curious what kind of reaction others would have if they could hear how much Laika's vocabulary had suddenly improved. I let out a hollow laugh and nodded at Seneran in answer.
"Well, yeah... Laika says they're full. And the moment they got full, their vocabulary improved."
"As you were saying earlier, is the difference really that stark?"
"It's like the difference between someone with a mental disability and an academy student. Seems even worse than right before I lost my mind."
If you judged by face value alone, the sense of dissonance was strong enough that it wouldn't have been strange for Laika to feel it too, but Laika was just huffing and puffing away in absolute bliss.
[That's because this is a state of oversaturation. It's only possible when it suddenly overflows to the point that the power drains out naturally even if I stay still.]
...Apparently, behind that unexpectedly happy face, Laika had gotten smart enough to be reading the room in various ways.
"You don't feel weird or anything?"
[Not really? It's a similar sensation to a day when my body condition is oddly great and I can run better than usual.]
"Well, that's a truly relatable analogy."
It felt like too steep a drop to call it just a 'sensation,' but since Laika felt no discomfort, there was no reason to press the matter.
[I'm too full and uncomfortable! I'm gonna go run!]
"Go ahead. But only run nearby. We'll be leaving soon."
[Okay!]
Normally, I'd have called anyone a madman for sprinting to work off a bloated stomach, but since Laika consumed more energy the more actively they moved, it probably didn't matter.
Just like that, after finishing our rest, we dusted ourselves off and helped tidy up the area, which resulted in us having to carry quite a bit of extra baggage.
"These guys have oddly good gear?"
That's right. For mere bandits, their equipment was suspiciously good, so there was a lot to pack up. Among them, there were quite a few pieces of regulation equipment from specific houses, which I recognized from the knowledge I'd picked up while staying with the Ogatorf family.
"Hmm. They definitely seem to be the guys who were connected to Envelde."
Thanks to that, I felt a great deal more refreshed. And so, Itisel was once again peacef—no, not peaceful at all.
True peace would only come when I'd killed that motherfucker of a Guildmaster.
"Let's pack up and go. I sure hope someone's waiting outside to ambush us."
Nobody asked why I was wishing for such an ominous thing. Only the clang-clang of the excited Laika's footsteps echoed. I decided to take the lead this time to prepare for any potential ambush. It was to my advantage anyway.
Was it Lady Epaga answering my prayers? The moment I stepped out of the waterway entrance, I saw a mercenary band.
"Well now, you're out earlier than expected?"
The difference between a mercenary belonging to a company and an adventurer was simpler than one might think. If their gear was standardized to a specification and uniformly equipped, they were from one of the very few famous mercenary companies—a useless criterion to consider here. If they simply wore clean armor, they were usually mercenaries.
Adventurers inevitably preferred pouches. Since they never knew what might happen, they might skip armor but never went anywhere without a tool bag and a pouch holding other items—their love for pockets was something else.
In contrast, mercenary bands led lives focused solely on combat after group maneuvers, so while they packed combat gear, they didn't much like carrying numerous small pouches on their person. Something about it getting in the way during a melee and increasing the risk of death?
"So what kind of fellas are you, hanging around here?"
Like the thirty or so rough-looking cutthroats currently right in front of my eyes.
The moment I revealed myself, the mercenaries who had been lounging around lazily moved with practiced motions, forming a defensive formation with circular shields centered on the waterway. At the same time, the wooden windows of the shabby buildings on either side opened, and archers drew a bead on us.
In a situation where I should have been thankful we weren't being completely encircled, I naturally threw my right hand behind my back to halt the steps of my companions.
"You're the one who roughed up the Guildmaster, right? When I first heard the report, it seemed like there were over five guys in our company alone who might fit a similar description. But now that I see you, they described your appearance with fuckin' perfect accuracy."
"...What mercenary company are you from?"
As I asked again with my arms crossed, feigning displeasure, the loudmouth with a undercut and ponytail like a drama Viking burst out laughing.
"Hahaha. Sorry, but I can't give you that answer."
"Are you famous?"
It was a crucial question, since I had to determine whether they were worth keeping alive or not. Despite that, the loudmouth and the other mercenaries just gave me a dumbfounded look before breaking into guffaws.
"Ha! This guy's a real piece of work, eh? You think that matters right now? Doesn't look like you're completely clueless, though?"
"I know I'm in a situation that calls for an undertaker. So, aren't you gonna answer?"
Though that undertaker wouldn't be for me, of course.
I swallowed those final words and just stared at him. The guy wiped the grin off his face a little and answered. It was a slightly more serious reaction, but there was still no sign of tension.
"Hah, your confidence is disgustingly cool. Alright, we're famous. But why the hell are you so curious about that?"
"Because letting a few no-name bastards live wouldn't have much effect. Good thing you're famous, then. Though I don't know if you're telling the truth."
Around the time their expressions, which had been clueless as to what I was talking about, shifted to looks that said they'd seen every kind of lunatic, Laika appeared with a clanging metallic sound, huffing and puffing excitedly, drawing their full attention with that metal body.
I looked down, my gaze following theirs. Laika had been staring at the mercenaries while wagging their tail furiously. They raised their head toward me and asked.
[Master? Are they food?]
"No. You don't eat filthy stuff like that anymore. What I gave you earlier is your only food."
[Magic Power! Good! Blood tasted bad! Then what about them?]
As I watched Laika keep wagging that tail, I let out a light whistle. In response, six needles shot out of the leather pouch and flew toward the archers I'd marked, in an instant.
The archers, who had been confidently aiming their bows without even taking cover, couldn't even let out a scream. But, perhaps owing to their experience as seasoned mercenaries, the other mercenaries who reacted to the sound of bodies dropping and looked toward them began to be colored by horror.
Be that as it may, since they no longer seemed to have any ranged attack means, I uncrossed my arms, slowly drew my sword, and spoke.
"My name is Eldmia Ega."
While most of the mercenaries were standing there dumbfounded, not understanding what had just happened, the loudmouth—who showed almost the only serious reaction—furrowed his brow at my introduction and racked his brain.
"Elde...? That son of a bitch Guildmaster?!"
Watching this unexpected yet deeply satisfying reaction, I gave Laika my orders this time.
"Bite them just enough to leave them combat-ineffective. I'll choose which ones to kill myself."
"N-now, wait! This is a misunderstanding...!"
[Laika! I'll be good!]
Wiggling that plump little butt, so at odds with a place soon to be awash in blood and flying heads, Laika charged forward at a disgustingly fast speed.