Outlaws from the Southeastward
Outlaws from the Southeastward
'He's acting like he's got some kind of magic up his sleeve.'
Naturally, a huge commotion erupted. At first I moved to join in, but Eldmia politely stopped me, so all I could do was stand back and watch.
I wasn't entirely comfortable with it, but... honestly, watching him dodge the gatekeeper's attacks while single-handedly beating down a dozen or so mercenaries and travelers who picked a fight from behind was a damn rare spectacle. Enough to feel a little cathartic, even.
The fact that he never laid a hand on the gatekeeper himself—I only realized that later, when a knight from the city's inner keep showed up dragging the guard force with him.
"S-sir Knight! It's that bastard! That bastard caused a riot and committed assault!"
The gatekeepers, who'd instantly realized he was beyond their ability to handle but hadn't dared to stop him and had just been milling about in confusion, now clung to the knight and poured out their grievances. Cellevian predicted the situation was about to turn into a massive headache. Even when the knight, his expression deeply hostile, stalked up and locked eyes with Eldmia, Cellevian still thought so, and upon spotting the more than thirty city guards behind him, he was all but certain.
"Is it true?"
"It's false."
And the sight of Eldmia, standing toe-to-toe with the knight and asserting his version in insolent half-speech, made Cellevian's tongue cleave to the roof of his mouth. At least he and the other elves were just his traveling companions and merely tongue-tied—the men Eldmia had beaten flat, and the gatekeepers, their faces flushed crimson, were furious.
"Th-that shameless!"
But Eldmia, utterly indifferent to the clamor around him, simply stared straight at the knight, proving his boldness was no act, and spoke.
"I started no riot. I simply told the gatekeeper to do his duty, and in the process, others who took issue with me blocking the way picked a fight, and I responded. That's the whole of it. I drew no weapon, and I committed no act of violence against the city's forces. On the contrary, they were the ones who drew weapons, and the gatekeeper used his personal greed to bar entry to elves who had properly completed their identity verification."
"...Do you properly understand what it means to make such claims here and now?"
"Of course I do."
The knight's face crumpled a little more at Eldmia's flat reply as he produced and presented the Margrave of Kelbast's surety badge. I thought he would immediately order an arrest, but instead the knight gave instructions to the guards and began gathering testimony from those in front of the gate.
And in the end, the one punished was the gatekeeper. Eldmia reacted like it was obvious, but Cellevian and the other elves were considerably taken aback.
The charges: abuse of authority, overstepping, and neglect of duty. The knight, suddenly thrust into the position of punishing a city gatekeeper for all to see, wrapped up the situation and then glared at Eldmia and said,
"I do hope you're capable of bearing the consequences. Because if you aren't, things will become truly troublesome. For in the west, elves are... just elves."
Cellevian might not have possessed extensive knowledge of human life, but he could guess the meaning behind the knight's words. What could have been settled quietly with a few coins had been blown up this large just to deliver a deliberate humiliation, so even if Eldmia's actions were justified, the way people looked at him couldn't possibly be kind.
There had surely been ways to resolve it quietly and amicably. The knight was implicitly pressuring him, saying he would pay the price for not choosing that route, for his arrogance.
"Good advice. As thanks, I'll give you some, too."
There was no way he'd missed the subtext, yet Eldmia maintained an almost boundless composure, clapped the knight on the pauldron, and with a face utterly devoid of mirth, continued,
"I do it because I can handle it."
Cellevian didn't know. He didn't know that was only the beginning of a completely insane road.
And the same went for the watcher who had been observing Eldmia.
'Isn't this guy a complete fucking lunatic...?'
Up until the moment he'd received the order—to track and report on a certain person along with a few cautionary notes—he'd thought it was no different from any other job.
In truth, even if the target was a bit special, it posed no problem whatsoever. Not only did those around him praise his natural talent for surveillance and tracking, but unlike common trackers, his specialty was stealth using magic.
Others reacted with disbelief, asking why someone with that magical skill was wasting it on mere spying, but he paid them no mind. He had no competitors to speak of, the pay was high, it was safe, and the work was free. He had no intention of running his mouth and throwing ashes onto a path that would let him quietly eat well and live comfortably.
The fewer capable competitors in this line of work, the better. There had even been times when potential clients, thinking highly of his skills, had saved him from the threat of elimination.
He had taken this job with that same mindset, as always, but somehow the target seemed to be a complete, certified madman, and an uneasiness crept over him.
'What the hell does he believe in, picking a fight against a whole city?'
He'd been hiding his body nearby as usual and gathering intel via eavesdropping magic, when he nearly lost his focus. In all his born days, he'd never seen a lunatic like this. Fearing stray sparks just by being nearby, he decided to observe from a slightly greater distance.
And sure enough, the situation unfolded exactly as the watcher predicted. While the target lodged at an inn, people he presumed to be colleagues began bustling about, reporting his movements to somewhere. The destination was obvious as a blaze.
No matter how many elves accompanied him, once you reached someone like the lord of a large city, the means to threaten a mere adventurer were a dime a dozen. From street thugs to secretive violence gangs. Those types were extremely common in the western kingdom region, where fighting broke out here and there nearly every single day.
Why else would there be a saying: if you need a man-killer, go west?
The moment they left the city, people hired by the lord were sure to pounce, aiming to collect the price of his insolence. Whether he knew that or not, the surveillance target rested as carefree as could be and then, the very next day, left the city with the elves as if nothing at all was amiss.
'I'll have to keep a fair distance for this.'
He much preferred surveillance with the naked eye, but considering the bloodshed about to unfold, it was better to widen the gap and use a magic eye. There were at least two mages he'd spotted right off. If his stealth magic got noticed or interfered with, it wouldn't end with just catching a stray spark.
-Seems we've picked up a tail. Best we hurry.-
Using the magic eye while on the move and eavesdropping at the same time was by no means easy, but he managed it without difficulty. The clean skill would have left any other mage gaping in admiration, but he instead found himself briefly wondering if his magic had malfunctioned.
-Ah, I've got some business with them back there. You go on ahead. I'll catch up shortly.-
-Wh-what do you mean?-
Yeah. What the hell does that mean. Fortunately, seeing the elves' reactions confirmed that he hadn't completely misheard, but he just couldn't fathom what the man was thinking.
-There was already that bothersome entanglement with some bastards a few days ago, you see. Figured it'd be better in the long run to clean up whatever can be cleaned up right on the road.-
For a split second, he thought he'd been made.
Goosebumps erupted all down his spine, but luckily the target hadn't actually noticed his presence—he didn't take any measures or come charging to catch him—and the watcher let out a deep sigh of relief as he watched the madman confront his pursuers.
-Cocky one, this is. Seeing how you act, you know what you did and why we've latched onto you, don't you?-
-Looks like we've got ourselves a big shot. But hey, guess what? That fine gentleman right at the top of the law's fence that kept protecting you? He sent us out to this lawless stretch to straighten you out.-
The twelve pursuers were all dressed in motley array, but they moved like this sort of work was routine. One of them, bundled up tight and staying at the very back, watched like a bystander—likely someone the lord had attached to verify the job.
The practical combat strength was eleven. That included the two mages the watcher had identified earlier. Judging by the equipment visible beneath their cloaks, they were clearly battle mages.
-I heard you threw the law in the face of a knight? How about you try finding the law out here?-
-All you'll find is a way to die.-
-Shouldn't he be trying to find a way to walk out alive?-
-Now that you mention it, yeah.-
They were tossing out low-grade jeers, but over half of them were renowned operatives whose names even the watcher recognized.
So there'd been recent friction with the neighboring city, and the lord had been keeping lawless types around him who were handy for backroom dealings. The watcher, purely delighted at having more to report, still briefly mourned the surveillance target's bleak prospects.
It was then that the surveillance target lightly dismounted, picking up the axe he'd hung from his saddle, and opened his mouth.
-My name is Eldmia Ega.-
At those words, the watcher's head spun frantically, and the most forcefully worded item among the 'few cautionary notes' from his client sprang into his mind.
If he ever utters the words 'My name is Eldmia Ega,' for whatever reason, immediately cease surveillance, put maximum distance between you, and report it with utmost priority.
-Oh, an introduction? But you don’t need to know who we are. Heh heh heh.-
-That's right. Because all you need to know is who I am.-
-...What's that supposed to mean?-
In the breath it took for confusion to ripple through the pursuers, the axe in the target's hand vanished. The pursuers jolted in shock at the magic-like phenomenon. Not a hand axe, but a two-handed axe—where the hell did it suddenly go?
But unlike them, the watcher, able to see the whole situation through the magic eye floating in the sky, was far beyond just jolted. He outright panicked, canceled his magic, and fled.
Watching a two-handed axe the size of a man fly through the air as if by spatial movement and bury itself in the lord's man's breastplate, he understood exactly why he'd been so insistently ordered to never make contact.
Not just a madman—a fucking dangerous madman.
-Y-you crazy fuck! The client's dea...!-
The desperate cry that reached him through the eavesdropping magic, which he'd canceled late in his panic, felt like a warning as it faded. So the watcher fled fast, casting magic on his horse as well as he went.
Even without the eavesdropping magic, the screams that began echoing across the barren wilds were all too easy to hear.