The Piper Knight
The Piper Knight
Eldmia returned to the capital without hesitation. Riding the wyvern he'd captured on the battlefield.
Since he'd come under the pretext of helping me personally in the first place, there were no sanctions against him. The 'ah, right, that happened' reactions did overflow, because he'd left far too strong an impression over that brief time, but there wasn't anyone idle enough to dwell on such sentiments.
The only one obsessed with the wyvern vanishing into the distance was me, who happened to be one of the least idle people there.
"Are you alright?"
"I'm not alright."
Renisa, who'd been constantly at my side ever since the assassination attempt on Eldmia, answered my curt reply with a laugh. The loyal retainer who had thrown everything aside and come running the moment she learned I was alive seemed to understand my heart all too well.
"You saw it too, Renisa. Eldmia fighting a member of the Demonfolk who was a division commander."
"At first I thought, 'Ah, so that person is a member of the Human Race after all.' Then it made me think, 'Wait, he's barely reached adulthood, and does it make any sense that he's holding back a Demon King's Army division commander?'"
"Ah, seriously! I know! I know already, alright!"
Not just seemed to know—she knew far too well. Even when I glared at her in irritation, Renisa merely smiled.
"I am always grateful to him as well. If not for him, the Family Head would not even be standing here right now. If I feel this way, I imagine the feelings of the Family Head, the person directly involved, need no mention. You must be anxious."
Right. I was anxious. I was anxious that Eldmia would die.
It was so painfully obvious he'd naturally seek out danger for the sake of his own objectives that I was anxious to death. So much so that I wondered whether this expedition should have been conducted without Eldmia in the first place.
In exchange for absurdly shortening the war by scaling walls with acrobatic feats, and for striking the enemy's rear lines via wyvern, he'd been exposed far too much.
According to reports, the enemy had reached the point where they judged the level of threat based on whether they could hear a whistling sound whenever an allied wyvern came flying in. Because of that, the wyvern assault unit stationed in the city had come to prefer communicating with whistles over hand signals.
Which meant that he was doing his job in a way that properly crushed enemy morale and sowed chaos. There was no reason such details wouldn't spread within the Demon King's Army, so by the time Eldmia next set foot on a battlefield, a considerable number of enemies would recognize him.
Not as the living-capture-or-kill target with the inexplicable, strange moniker of 'Little Eldmia,' but as a battlefield threat like Piper Knight or Wall Destroyer.
"But you know that is Sir Ega's path."
"...And because I know it, I couldn't hold him back."
I wanted to stay at Eldmia's side. But I couldn't let myself become a weight on his ankles. Not because I feared he might leave me behind, but because I feared that by holding him back I might drive him into mortal danger.
"He is not a child drunk on heroism. He is a warrior. And to stand beside a warrior..."
"I have to become a warrior too."
To avoid that, and rather to help and protect when necessary, I too had to become strong. In that sense, having been able to provide even a little help with magic this time was an immensely pleasant memory.
Eldmia wanted my help rather than telling me to retreat. The realization that I'd grown to a position where I could, if only briefly, coordinate with someone from whom I'd always only ever received help... was more addictive than I'd expected.
"Correct. Though, to be honest, I meant that more in the mental sense than the physical one."
Perhaps having pierced through my inner thoughts once again, Renisa drew close and casually checked the thickness of my forearm. I laughed and shook off her hand.
Back when I was young... that is, after I'd lost my homeland and fled, turning my back on my family, before I'd even reached the back alleys of Ogwen—there had been a time when I fell asleep shivering with hunger and cold while dreaming of reclaiming my family and territory.
Since I had no plan and no knowledge, there was no process. Some days I personally led troops and vanquished an enemy commander like a Hero; other days I reclaimed it with the help of a dashing and strong knight.
But the ending was never the hope-and-love-filled form typical of children at that age. In the dream, I always had to wake up sobbing, staring at or clutching a portrait of my parents. And the gap between dream and reality quickly ate away at my heart.
Yet when the situation I'd thought was nothing more than a dream actually came to pass, there was no time to grieve, nor a moment to grow sentimental. Every day was packed with things to learn, and the things needing to be resolved were even more numerous.
Amid all that, the sorrow that had been sustaining my life was replaced with something else in the blink of an eye.
"It really does become bearable, in a matter-of-fact way."
"Pardon?"
"I was talking to myself. Let's go in now. There's still a lot of work left."
Maybe Eldmia was living with this feeling too. Thinking that made me feel just a little bit more like I'd grown similar to him, and my mood lifted.
They say married couples come to resemble each other, don't they?
◈
Human emotions are truly fascinating. Even after having flown across the battlefield so many times riding Jagayong, merely freely soaring through skies that weren't a battlefield was enough to lift my mood in a strangely exhilarating way.
Perhaps it was largely the result of Laika curled up in my arms, contributing heavily to my psychological state.
[The whole world looks so small!]
"You having fun, little one?"
[Yeah!]
Like a dog sticking its head out of a moving car to feel the wind, listening to the exclamations of this creature who found the world itself entertaining there was a high probability I ended up cheerful in tandem. Thanks to that, it felt like the worries that had been packed inside my head, even briefly, were getting pushed to the back burner.
And once that happened, the plans that had felt so hopeless began to sort themselves out, little by little, allowing me to decide the first thing I needed to do.
"First, I should focus on refining my Magic Organ."
I get stronger every time I clash with a strong opponent... Honestly, in the old days I'd have wondered whether something that convenient could really happen—this isn't some game with leveling up—but after experiencing it a few times, it wasn't entirely wrong either. The problem was that it wasn't very efficient and was just a temporary amplification of my senses.
How should I put it—if you frequently play games on high difficulty, your reaction speed adjusts accordingly, but it dulls if you stop playing for a while. The benefit gained from fighting the strong is about that much.
If I were to formally take someone as a teacher and learn from them, my body would naturally react and follow along, making me stronger... but all the strong people at that level are already planted in some seat or other. Even if I swallowed my pride and went to learn from them, I'd end up tangled in one thing or another. And since I can't just skim the benefits like some punk and pretend I don't know them, I'd prefer to avoid that sort of situation in the future too.
The best option would be to learn from that crazy elf blacksmith Luwiming... but recalling the attitude she'd shown, even if I diligently tracked her down again, it hardly seemed like she'd bestow her teachings upon me. In the end, what I could do immediately was further tinker with my Magic Organ, and learn a little more magic with help from my master and Seneran.
"And after that, it's off to the battlefield again..."
Originally, I'd considered crossing over to Demonfolk Territory and operating there moderately, but it seemed the need to experience the battlefield extensively had arisen.
Thanks to Water Buffalo Horn, I was starting to find it utterly incomprehensible why the frontlines were still being maintained.
Grabbing just one division-commander-level opponent had required quite a number of knights to latch onto him. He was so strong that it wouldn't have been strange for everyone to die if the slightest thing had gone wrong. He was such an undeniably powerful foe that had they faced him scattered instead of swarming together, they'd have been picked off one by one.
And yet, he's described as someone the Ten Swords could beat. Meaning, if it had been Sir Ekaf, in crude terms he'd have beaten him like a dog on the hottest day of summer.
"Whose fucked-up work is this power balance, Epaga..."
I muttered it into the empty air, but of course no answer came.
My personal opinion is that battle with Demonfolk generates some unknown synergy and makes growth run rampant... but is even that connected to the Balance that Luwiming mentioned?
Thanks to the wyvern who flew well on its own without specific commands, the distance to the capital shrank steadily even while I was spacing out and lost in other thoughts, which was truly convenient beyond words. Though the journey had become a relatively boring one compared to when I headed toward Levien, even that had its small pleasures, thanks to the wyvern.
Of course, for the people of rural villages who panicked and startled at my sudden appearance, it might not have been a terribly pleasant memory. But when they watched the wyvern devour an entire pig I'd bought with money in an instant, the local villagers all came to spectate and found it so fascinating—so it would probably remain a fairly enjoyable memory for them too. Perhaps because entertainment was rare, they enjoyed it so much that even I felt awkward.
After moving like that, without rushing, gradually growing accustomed to long-distance winter flights, it was only on the third day that I was able to make out the capital beginning to shimmer beyond the horizon.
Confirming that the wyvern ownership permit marked with the royal seal was properly in my possession, I slowly touched down at the wyvern station, and quite naturally, the eyes of the station's staff all focused on me in an instant.
Given that I was a human riding a wyvern with no trace whatsoever of identifiable affiliation, a double-bladed axe hung on the saddle and a single dog nestled in my arms as I dismounted, their reaction was entirely justified. Fortunately, perhaps because my unhurried behavior had eased their wariness, no one approached clutching spears or swords. I looked at the people closing in around me and pulled out the permit I was holding.
"My name is Eldmia Ega, from the Levien Margraviate. I'd like to officially register this wyvern—could I get some assistance?"
And while watching the scene described in the letter enclosed with the permit from the royal family unfold exactly as written, I marveled inwardly.
The sight of around fifteen people all making expressions as though they couldn't believe their own ears, as if on cue, was a truly fascinating spectacle.