Escape (3)
A frame as vast and imposing as a mountain. Steel-hard muscles that seemed like they would never break. And a crushing weight bearing down on my shoulders.
Faced with an undeniably powerful opponent, my body began to stir on its own. Even though I had no intention of fighting, my blood was heating up in response to the man's killing intent.
This is insane...
I had hoped to settle things as peacefully as possible, but it seemed the man in front of me had no intention of letting it go.
I shouldn't have granted her request.
I couldn't have known that honoring Meteria's plea would lead to this... but I should at least have realized it wouldn't be something I could simply walk away from. Why on earth had I agreed to it?
For some reason, it was strangely hard to refuse...
I'd never been good at saying no in the first place, but she was different somehow. What was it—an aura? A presence? Something indescribable, something I had never experienced before, radiated from her. And because of it, here I was, cursing myself for ever accepting. Maybe my luck really had run dry.
"You don't intend to answer?"
"N-no, I do. Answering is..."
I said the words, but honestly, I had nothing. What was I supposed to say—that I'd come from the future? If I blurted that out, he would take it as mockery and cut me down on the spot.
The important thing right now wasn't revealing who I was. It was proving I bore no hostility.
So...
"...I'm not fighting you right now, am I?"
"...What?"
"If I truly meant to interfere... wouldn't I already have drawn my blade and come at you?"
It was an insolent line, but I had already proven my worth. My clash with the woman called Alfia—she had been a powerhouse who would not have yielded even to the man standing before me. If I could fight her to a standstill, even if not at full strength, then my words carried weight.
Whether that weight was good or bad, I couldn't say.
"I see."
Every one of his movements seemed to fill the entire space. The pressure radiating from a warrior at the peak of his craft had something transcendent about it. Just like when I'd faced Ottar, each gesture began to press down on me.
The difference from back then was that I had crumpled under the weight before, while now I stood tall and bore it. I had grown at least a little.
"I understand what you're trying to say. But it isn't enough."
And of course, nothing ever came easy.
"What if I withdrew now, only to ambush you mid-quest? You are a being capable of matching Alfia with magic. If that happened, annihilation would be the least surprising outcome."
His logic struck my argument head-on and shattered it, and I couldn't summon a single word of rebuttal. It was true—I couldn't rule out the possibility. No matter how utterly absent such intentions were in my heart, no one else could know that. Even with a god's verification, human hearts are like reeds, bending with the wind. Certainty was impossible.
"But if you say that, then I can't do anything at all."
Still, I couldn't just nod and accept it, either.
The greatest factions of this era were the Zeus and Hera Familia, but that hardly meant no powerhouses existed outside them. The Loki Familia and Freya Familia—the strongest of a future age—stood in full vigor, and word around the city was that the Egyptian-aligned Familia held alarming influence. From what I'd heard yesterday, they were even preparing for a possible war against Zeus and Hera. For me to be targeted while a Level 7 Familia openly flaunted its hostility—it was an unbearable injustice.
"Worry not about that. We will crush them before the quest ever begins."
At that ferocious declaration, my throat seized. What did he just say?
"I said we would crush them."
"No no no no. Hold on—isn't that going too far?!"
"What is?"
"What do you mean, what—crushing an entire Familia..."
"What's the problem?"
The Colossus wore an expression of genuine puzzlement at my protest. It was the face of a man stating the obvious, so matter-of-fact it made me wonder if I was the one with the warped common sense.
"The moment one becomes an adventurer, one accepts death. And he drew a blade against the Zeus Familia. Paying the price is only natural."
"Th-that's... maybe, but some members might have been forced to join, and there could be people who aren't even combatants..."
"The luck you're born with is a skill in itself. If they wish to curse something, let them curse their own fate for joining such a Familia."
For an instant, something hot and bitter surged up in my chest before I could stop it.
"...Isn't that going too far?"
"...What?"
"Telling people to simply accept 'fate'—don't you think that's heartless?"
I knew nothing of their stories. Neither I nor anyone else ever would. And so they would collapse in silence, their stories known to no one.
How many people in this world raged at heaven for the circumstances they were born into? How many had withered away simply because opportunity never came their way? To sweep away their tears, their screams, their laments with a single word—fate—his words were profoundly, deeply repugnant to me.
"Where there are a hundred people, there are a hundred stories. Don't you dare write off all of them with one word."
"...Are you seriously lecturing me? You?"
"Yes."
The past, the future, the paradox of it all—I paid it no mind in this moment. No matter what happened, no matter what greater cause stood behind it, the laments of those who lost everything would never fade. Whatever the reason, some things simply must never be done.
"Empty idealism. That is the very definition of hypocrisy. That is the very definition of evil."
But the warrior struck back at once.
"What worth is there in a line that is never reached? However righteous it may be, if it cannot be achieved, it is worth less than evil itself."
"..."
I knew it. I knew my words sounded like a child's tantrum. I knew the man before me saw reality for what it was, while my ideal was nothing more than an ideal.
But... but that was exactly why I had dreamed of becoming a hero. That was exactly why I had become one.
Even if it was the ungainly, battered, patchwork kind of hero.
I held on to that hypocrisy until the very end. If hypocrisy abandoned is evil, then hypocrisy carried through to the last is surely true good.
In truth, whether it was hypocrisy or anything else didn't matter. What mattered was the will to see it through.
"Don't be swayed by another's will."
"...!"
"Decide for yourself—because it's what you believe, not because someone told you to. This is your story."
"You..."
"Don't sweep everything aside with a single word like 'fate.'"
No matter who called it impossible, I would walk this path. In any place, in any era, I would raise an unshakable conviction.
Only then could I be called a hero. That was why I had become one.
...Right, Grandfather?
"You would fight me over something like that? For people you don't even know?"
"I'd rather not fight. But if I must, then I will."
"Even if it kills you?"
At his question, I answered with a smile.
"If any man deserves to be called a hero, it is neither the one who wielded the sword, nor the one who bore the shield, nor the one who offered comfort."
"It is the one who staked himself—him alone—who is called a hero."
"You know, I wanted to be a hero. I dreamed of it, and that's why I came here."
"..."
The Colossus listened to my words in silence. His bearing was at once imperious—go on, then, say your piece—and yet utterly still, as though he were truly hearing me out.
"If death alone were enough to make me run, I would never have made it this far in the first place."
I put strength into my legs. I straightened my back, lifted my head, and met my opponent's gaze without flinching. My one and only eye filled with the man's entire figure.
Our gazes crossed.
"I know nothing of your circumstances. So I'll say just one thing."
To the Colossus, whose expression flickered with faint surprise, I pressed on without yielding an inch.
"If you intend to shatter other people's lives with nothing more than the excuse of fate—then you'll have to go through me first."
Because otherwise, it would be utterly impossible.
Our eyes locked. Neither the Colossus nor I looked away.
And so, the confrontation between me and the strongest being in the world, unfolding in a deserted back alley—
"..."
"...Huh?"
—came to a bafflingly anticlimactic end when the Colossus simply turned his back on me.
"Um... excuse me?"
"What is it."
"You suddenly turned around... what are you doing?"
"My business here is finished. I'm going back."
"Wha—?!"
Despite my sputtering, the Colossus vanished in the blink of an eye, quite literally between one breath and the next.
"...Seriously?"
In the empty alley, my voice echoed forlornly.
A colossal man walked down the street. Impossible not to look at, that frame drew every gaze along the road. The emotions those gazes carried were as varied as the people themselves—the primal dread one feels toward a creature larger than oneself, the unease born of his long history of ruthless feats, the envy directed at his strength and skill.
Yet above all of those emotions stood two others: respect and awe.
The strongest in Orario. Level 8—the Colossus.
When it came to the strongest living being in the world, nothing could outrank those two feelings.
Nothing should have...
"Hm."
"My, someone's looking rather pleased with himself."
The man showed no alarm at the voice. He had known it had been trailing him from the start. If anything, he was more surprised it had taken this long to show itself. Knowing her temperament, he should have been startled five times over by now.
"Tch. So you noticed... Though that boy back there seemed to catch on too."
Did I stare too hard? It was a grumbling voice, but the delight laced through it was impossible to hide.
"Show yourself."
"My, my—did you miss the sight of me that much?"
Space rippled, and a woman appeared at his side. Skin of fresh, healthy brown that radiated vitality, and a height unusual for a woman. Dressed in flamboyant, boldly revealing clothes, she stood out in an entirely different sense than the man did.
The highest-level being in all of Orario. The Empress of Level 9.
"Why did you follow me?"
"Because I'm following my husband, obviously."
"Who are you calling husband?"
No matter how hard he scowled at her, the woman didn't so much as twitch an eyebrow, merely humming to herself. It was always like this, so he let out a sigh and let it go. He had no desire to sour his mood over it now. She seemed to understand as well; with a soft laugh, she said nothing further.
And so the two walked side by side, each heading toward their own home—until the woman spoke up.
"So? How did it go?"
"You watched. Why ask?"
"I just wanted to hear it from you."
At that, the Colossus glanced at the Empress, then resumed walking before answering.
"He passes."
"Ahh~ figured as much?"
She nodded along as though she'd expected nothing less. But the Colossus's expression was anything but pleasant.
"Then I'll tell our old hag it was just an old man's meddling and—what? Why are you making that face?"
"...Nothing."
Even as he said it, his bewilderment did not fade. If anything, it only deepened.
And the Empress was hardly the sort to miss it.
"What is it? This is important, so if something's bothering you, say it now. Don't choke on it later and make a mess of everything."
"...Unusually cautious of you."
"Well, given the circumstances."
Yes—the circumstances were the problem.
Capital, resources, and manpower had been mobilized in full to achieve humanity's long-cherished dream. A quest that could not fail—and, more than that, must not fail. The sudden appearance of a powerhouse was, truly, a thorn in his side. That was why the two captains had moved to pursue him personally. To minimize losses and variables as much as possible.
To put it bluntly—to kill the intruder with certainty.
He had asked the intruder to give him a reason to spare him, but the truth was Maxim had intended to kill him all along. The only reason he'd asked him to speak at all was to extract information and guard against some unforeseen mistake. The boy claimed he had nothing to do with any god, but he might still be connected to one, so Maxim had layered caution upon caution.
And that suspicion had proven half right.
There does seem to be some connection.
He had caught the scent of an old fox on a first-time adventurer. That old fox was involved somehow—the question was how.
Not a single lead.
That spirit was far too elusive to ever fully pin down, but since nearly all of its movements ultimately ran through the male god Hermes, a certain degree of intelligence gathering was always possible. And working from that intelligence, no matter how he turned it over, the existence of that young man could not be found anywhere.
After all, the god Hermes was currently away, off wooing the princess of some island nation.
He said he was thirty-two...
For all that, the boy had looked far too young—but somehow, it hadn't felt like a lie. Beyond that, it had been instantly clear he was a terrible liar by nature. His utter failure to offer even a single excuse when questioned was proof enough.
Lying to save your own skin is the easiest thing in the world. Yet the boy hadn't been able to spit out a single falsehood, even with death staring him in the face. Instead, he had met his eyes squarely and gone so far as to issue a warning.
Those eyes...
Yes—those eyes were the problem. That gaze would not leave his mind.
How deeply had the old fox interfered? What was their relationship—ally or enemy? If an ally, why hide his identity? If an enemy, what was his purpose? There was so much he needed to think through, and yet all that surfaced in his head was that pair of crimson eyes.
Red eyes. Cranel had eyes like that, hadn't he? Was that why the boy gnawed at him so?
"He was a naive one, though. Like a child who knows nothing of the world. Not that I minded."
At those words, Maxim finally understood why the boy had lodged so stubbornly in his thoughts.
Naive? Ignorant of the world?
Impossible. Those eyes could not have belonged to anyone of that sort.
The boy had undeniably been young. His wish had carried the untarnished purity of someone untouched by time. But could that really have been possible simply because he didn't know the world?
Normally, he would have said yes. He would have had no other choice. Children all become adults. They grasp reality, fold away their ideals, and while patting each other on the shoulder and calling themselves grown-up, they ultimately compromise with the world. This won't do because of that. That won't do because of this. The ideals that had once driven them as children collapse in the face of reality, and before they know it, they have become adults who prize reality over ideals—wrapping their surrendered ideals in the fine-sounding word "maturity" to console themselves.
Whether they wanted to or not.
In the end, when reality bears down, there are only two options: bend, or break.
And then, a new variable had appeared.
Someone who neither bent nor broke—someone who carried that blinding whiteness intact all the way to the very end. Someone who accomplished, as a matter of course, a thing that even the Colossus and the Empress could not help but deem impossible.
A being truly worthy of the name hero had appeared.
"I see. So that was it."
"Hm? What do you mean?"
"Nothing. It's nothing."
A question that had sat crookedly in him, refusing to settle, finally came loose. Something he had believed to be an immutable truth had been crushed, refreshingly flat, by the reality before his eyes. It felt so exhilarating that a smile crossed his face before he knew it.
The Empress's eyes went wide at the sight.
They had been together since he was Level 1, yet she had almost never seen him smile—least of all smiling like this, for no reason at all.
So being with me made him that happy after all?
Putting up that prickly front, when all along he actually liked it.
The Empress broke into laughter as well.
Even after all their long years together, the two of them still understood nothing about each other.