Snowfall and a Promise
The day after the snow stopped.
Evergreen Antico finally woke to a world of white.
It was the first snow I had seen since coming to this world. No snow in any world could have been this pure. What settled on the ground was spotless, free of even a single fleck of soot. Before long it had piled thick and soft, dressing the trees in new white coats.
The air turned cold in no time. I dropped my gaze to the ground and crunched through the snow with both feet, bundle in hand, pushing through the chill.
Swish— swish—.
A few people were sweeping the snow from Antico's streets with brooms. Hunters working a snow-clearing request from the Association. One of them spotted me and called out a greeting.
"Hello!"
"Uh… yeah."
I took their greetings as I passed. They never used to do this. The sudden familiarity was because I had only just become a Master Hunter. Word had spread through Antico as if it had grown legs of its own.
And the first thing this new Master Hunter chose to do… was nothing special, really. I had considered grabbing a broom myself, but I hadn't come all this way just to shovel snow. All I was doing was walking the streets on a snowy day.
"Hey…"
"Master…"
I caught the faint murmur of people whispering from a distance. I had reached the level where simply walking earned me admiration. Ah, so this was what "walking" looked like. This must be how famous people lived. At this point, people would probably clap even if I took a dump in the street. Not that I had any intention of testing that theory.
Pina still hadn't come back to the lodging. Maybe she was spending quality time with her family. Or maybe she was helping with the housework. There would be plenty to do at her place, after all.
♬~♪ ♩~.
Out on the street, a man was performing with a guitar. Busking on a winter day after snowfall. His fingers, red from the cold, poured out a sweet melody. They tangled now and then, but there was so much heart in the music that it somehow drove the winter chill away and left a little warmth behind.
This place was at peace.
I left the man's performance behind and made my way to Matillo's workshop. From inside came the rough ring of a hammer. Matillo's workshop had gotten a winter makeover as well—though of course Matillo hadn't done a thing. It was just white snow piled on the roof and window frames.
The door was locked today. I knocked carefully.
Knock, knock—.
The hammering stopped, and I felt Matillo walking toward the door. His voice came from inside.
"Who is it?"
"It's me."
The moment he heard my voice, Matillo opened the door. Snow that had piled against it scraped aside as it swung open. He stepped out of the way, and I slipped past him into the workshop.
Inside was warm—nothing like the biting cold of Antico outside. On the table lay meticulously drawn blueprints and materials. Matillo was forging new shells for the Dragon Bane.
He shut the door, locked the latch, and spoke.
"You made it back in one piece, brat."
"Yeah."
"So the wasteland business is finished?"
"Pretty much. Just the remaining surveys left."
Matillo nodded.
"So what brings you here?"
I tilted my head and answered with deliberate mischief.
"Can't I come by for no reason?"
Matillo's brow furrowed, and he shook his head.
"…That's not what I meant. Why put it like that? Makes it sound like I did something wrong. It's obvious you've got business—look at what you're holding."
"You're right—."
I untied the bundle. Inside were Disastro's desiccated carapace and its protruding teeth. Matillo lifted a piece of the carapace in one hand.
"…So. Disastro."
He ran his palm lightly over the shell, then set it back in the bundle.
"Looks like it'd crumble from how dry it is, but it's actually rock-hard from being baked so thoroughly."
His reaction looked like he was seeing it for the first time, so I asked,
"Matillo, you didn't get any?"
"This stuff? Brat, you were out cold, so you wouldn't know. Only the hunters who fought on the front lines received materials."
As he spoke, Matillo rewrapped the bundle and slung it over his shoulder, then dropped the materials under the worktable with a thud. I caught him for a moment—there was more.
"Ah, look at this too."
"What now."
Ta-da. I held my Master Card up right in front of his face.
"This is the kind of person I am."
Matillo's eyes went wide. Then he laughed and nodded.
"Yeah, brat. For you, that was only natural."
He didn't tease me. He just accepted it, plain and simple. I had expected something more like, Brat, so just anyone can become a Master Hunter these days? This wasn't the reaction I'd prepared for. Feeling oddly embarrassed, I quietly slipped the card back into my coat.
I stepped over to Matillo's worktable and looked it over. Overwhelming. The Dragon Bane shell blueprints spread across it were so precise and complex I couldn't begin to make sense of them. Looking at all the parts and minerals involved, I realized how much time and money went into crafting even a single one.
Matillo asked without taking his eyes off the table,
"What, you interested?"
"No… this is way too hard."
"Of course it is. I spent years meeting craftsmen of every kind to put this design together."
Matillo peeled off his gloves and tossed them aside, then pulled out a cigarette and walked over to the forge.
"Tell me if the smell bothers you."
"Okay."
He lit the cigarette on the forge flame, then went to the corner and opened a window.
"It's the kind of work that makes your head hurt, you know."
With that, Matillo quietly drew a long drag. He carefully exhaled the smoke out the window and gazed far beyond the workshop.
"Snowed yesterday. Antico's winters—no matter how many times I see them, they're beautiful."
"Yeah?"
Through the window, a pure white world. Matillo stared blankly at it as he spoke.
"I had experiences like this in Crete too. Only back then, everything was burning, and it was ash that filled the air."
He let out a self-mocking laugh. I picked up a part, looked it over once, and set it carefully back down.
"Think it'll be all right as is?"
"With a little maintenance. The shell's power isn't the problem… I'll just need to make two handles so we can change the firing position."
Matillo said this and took another pull on his cigarette. Because he was so careful about blowing the smoke outside, the workshop never filled with the smell.
A shadow had settled over his whole face. It looked like he had been working through the night, every night. He muttered,
"If you could crack Disastro's carapace, a wing membrane should be simple enough."
In those cool eyes, a quiet sorrow was locked away. Matillo's gaze said the road of vengeance was no longer far.
"If that shell is completed…"
Matillo was already looking at the end of his revenge. I watched his hollow eyes through the cigarette smoke. The firm lips that released the smoke trembled faintly.
"…Alice."
For the first time in a long while, Matillo called me by name.
"Yeah."
"I've got a favor to ask."
He spoke with calm eyes.
"Once the shell is finished, will you come to Crete with me?"
"To Crete?"
"Yeah. I know it's dangerous, but…"
Matillo lowered his gaze, then met mine again.
"Originally, I was going to ask Oflo."
I nodded at his words.
"But after meeting you, I changed my mind. Someone who shone brighter than anyone even in front of a supreme-grade monster—if it's you, you could definitely take that monster. Corasius."
Matillo went on.
"If you die fighting… I'll follow after you. So please. I'm asking."
This was Matillo's final request. There were no prerequisite conditions like in a game. It was a request built purely on the trust that had accumulated between us over the long time we had known each other.
I nodded without hesitation.
"Of course."
I could not betray Matillo, who had endured ten years facing that immense wall. Betraying Matillo would have been the same as betraying myself.
At my answer—free of even a hint of hesitation—Matillo gave a short snort of a laugh.
"Right. That's the kind of hunter you were."
Matillo crushed out the spent cigarette and stuck it in the ashtray by the window. He dusted off his hands and pulled his gloves back on. Flexing his fist once to loosen his hand, he said to me,
"All right. Let's take a look at what you've got."
I asked him,
"What do you think you can make?"
"From what I saw earlier, they didn't give you that much material. If I make one weapon, covering your whole body in armor will be tough. Better to reinforce individual armor parts."
"Yeah. I don't really know that stuff."
"So. What kind of weapon do you want?"
I thought it over, rubbing the corner of my mouth. Come to think of it, I was pretty sure Matillo had taken the Blood Horn Sword after I collapsed. What had become of it?
I asked him about its whereabouts.
"What happened to the Blood Horn Sword?"
"That thing? Completely wrecked, so I just melted it down."
Eck. Melted it down.
I stared at Matillo with wide eyes. He shrugged, completely unfazed.
"Think about what you put it through. How was the sword supposed to come out fine? The essence is intact, though, so don't worry. I've been holding onto it until you showed up."
Matillo even pulled the Luga-lac essence from a box and showed it to me, driving the point home.
Blood Horn Sword, Kespira…! Thank you for everything you've done for me until now!
My hands would never forget the Blood Horn Sword. I would never forget that such a blade had once existed.
I said to Matillo,
"Ah, then make it a greatsword."
"Sure. I figured that was the way to go too."
That didn't mean I planned to stop using other greatswords, of course.