Tomb (1)
After we slipped out of the Tomb auction house, we headed straight for Zoid’s place. Why not the inn? One second’s thought made it obvious. After a disaster like that had just torn through the city, would a bunch of people who looked like they’d been run through a meat grinder really stroll back into an inn? If I were the owner, I’d be sprinting to the station yelling, “Fuck, one of my guests is a terrorist!” So there we were, unwillingly playing the part of wanted criminals, slinking through back alleys.
“You goddamn slugs! Move your asses!”
“It’s the Twostars Merchant Guild! The fire’s spreading with the lightning! Where the hell are the mages?!”
The moment we left the building, the uproar on the streets felt close enough to touch. Guards sprinting past, citizens who had staggered out of bed to see what was happening turning deathly pale, drunkards still snoring in the gutters—it was pure pandemonium. No surprise there. At three in the morning the sky had roared, crashed, howled, boomed, and thundered like the end of the world. Even people who could sleep through being carried off would wake up when a storm and lightning came calling.
Our party had flipped the entire city upside down.
“Shit. Road’s blocked,” Zoid muttered after peeking around the corner. Just as he said, the annoyingly competent guards of this world had posted men at every choke point in the back alleys. They were making sure the culprit couldn’t slip away.
Yeah, well, we can’t exactly let ourselves get caught either.
If we got into a brawl with the city watch, we’d be eating prison beans for the foreseeable future. Fuck. Just thinking about it pisses me off. We’d taken out the bastards threatening the city, and this was the thanks we got. I knew a society ruled by law had to work this way, but it still felt unfair.
It was something I’d realized while living as Arthur Wayne: for a dark hero, escaping cleanly after the job was done mattered more than beating the crap out of criminals.
“We’ll have to break through,” I said, already pulling up my mana. The mana I stole from Enlir is perfect for a time like this.
My maximum MP had roughly doubled, so our magic kid druid Nord was in peak condition. The spearman Nord, on the other hand, felt like his muscles had been wrung out like a dirty rag and were about to give up the ghost.
—Fwoooosh!
I sprayed ordinary fog across the entire back alley. Smoke-bomb mode engaged. The thick mist swallowed nearly an entire city block. Part of the urban district vanished under the cloud I had created. Even though the area wasn’t that large, the fog stretched across hundreds of meters.
I’m a little impressed with myself, and I’m the one who did it.
It was just water vapor, but at that density it was nothing to sneeze at. No coastal city, no matter how foggy, ever saw anything this unnatural. The guards gripped their spears, instantly on edge.
“S-stand ready! It’s magic—probably!”
“Stick together, back to back! Watch for a surprise atta—!”
“J-Jackson! Suddenly—waaah—!”
I released sleeping gas into the blinded patrolmen. The high-strung guards took deep breaths and inhaled it without realizing. Telling sleeping gas apart from ordinary fog in the middle of a whiteout wasn’t exactly easy. Even if they could sense mana, everything was saturated with my own power, so it all felt the same.
This rune magic I picked up on a whim is really paying dividends.
—Thump. Thump.
Guards collapsed one after another. A few stubborn ones tried to endure on sheer willpower, but Franc slipped through the mist in full assassin mode and delivered precise chops to the backs of their necks. Their eyes rolled back and they dropped. The short-statured dwarf guards ended up giving us a clear path while enjoying an unscheduled, sweet overtime nap.
Kinda feel bad about it.
I’d have to put in a good word with the lord later so they wouldn’t get punished for “salary theft.” Zoid clicked his tongue as he watched the guards sprawled like disposable minions.
“……Just watching you fight, I knew you were a master, but your magic is just as impressive. Our city guards have tangled with criminal syndicates and are no pushovers themselves.”
The fog that had neutralized an entire patrol network must have looked terrifying. I gave a bitter smile at the unintended rampage of my demonic mist. The night-killer shrouded in fog had returned. At this rate I could legitimately call myself a mage.
One or two months ago, every “spell” I’d learned had been nothing but physical buffs.
“This way. Come on in.”
Zoid’s house was a small single-story rental. Since it wasn’t part of a crowded tenement, slipping inside was easy. Once we were behind closed doors we finally let ourselves breathe.
—Click.
Zoid pulled a potion from the safe and treated the wound on his head.
“I’ve got to head to the blacksmith guild. The city’s in an uproar, so I probably won’t make it back tonight.”
After wiping away the blood, his words sounded like a final goodbye. We had seemed close, yet we weren’t. If we parted now, we would probably never meet again. I searched for something comforting to say. The guild master had been a world-class son of a bitch, but he was still Zoid’s brother. Watching your own sibling die with a blade buried in his heart—how could anyone stay calm?
“Before I go, let me say one thing… Thank you.”
—Bow.
Contrary to what I expected, Zoid bowed deeply to us. More precisely, to Franc.
“I may be a loafer, but I still have shame. I have no intention of defending my worthless brother. I don’t know your circumstances, miss, but I’ll probably need to beg your forgiveness as well.”
Because it was a serious apology, his tone was unusually polite.
“Still, my gratitude is sincere. Thank you. Thank you for letting my brother leave this world without committing any more sins.”
“……I don’t resent you, Mr. Zoid. If anything, I’m grateful. It must have been an incredibly difficult decision to punish your own family.”
Understanding his feelings, Franc answered calmly. At her words Zoid rubbed his nose.
“My brother had to pay for his crimes, and I wanted him to stop doing wrong. This is easier on my heart than learning the outcome after everything ended without my knowledge.”
—Thump. Thump.
Zoid pounded his own chest.
“From now on I’m going to find out why my brother did those things. I won’t ask for help. I’ve simply found something I want to devote my life to.”
“……It’ll be dangerous. There’s a chance someone like Enlir will come after you.”
Even at my worried warning he only shrugged.
“I know. But I can’t let my brother call me a coward even after he’s dead, can I? Unlike him, I have no family left to lose. ……I didn’t even know he had started one.”
Zoid’s resolve looked rock-solid. He probably wouldn’t listen even if I tried to stop him. Saying “I understand” while planning to ignore it later was pointless. Convincing a man to abandon a goal he had set with his whole heart just because it was dangerous wasn’t something another man should do.
I pointed at the guild master’s shield—its original functions restored on the way back.
“Will you at least take the guild master’s equipment?”
“No need. It would only give the enemy a clue to follow my trail. Besides, just looking at my brother’s face would complicate things. You folks take it all.”
He had a point. Using it openly would be the same as advertising to Enlir’s organization that we had killed the guild master and run off with his gear. I’d have to change its appearance or only use it where no one could see, but that wasn’t something an ordinary warrior like Jade could manage alone.
Since he was giving it for free, I’d gratefully accept. I patted the pouch at my waist.
“Understood. I’ll at least give you some cash. Please accept it.”
When I said that, Zoid smiled too; even behind the mask, the grin showed.
“Heh heh. Put it in the safe with a clear conscience. Too much and explaining the source will be a pain.”
I’d been preempted. Deciding the right amount was the hardest part, but I could nod without hesitation.
“I think everything my brother said from start to finish was bullshit, but I’ll especially deny that I have no eye for people. Meeting you all was my good fortune.”
Having polished his sword and armor until they gleamed, he gripped the door handle.
“I’ll be going now. Take care, you suspiciously good-natured people.”
Thus the tanned, blond quarter-dwarf parted from us with a warm smile. We watched his back as he walked away. Parting so quickly from someone you’d only just met was a strange experience—you both grew used to it and never got used to it at the same time.
Wishing him nothing but luck and good things on his journey, I dropped a gold bar into the now-empty safe. Use it however you like. Financial therapy is always the right answer. It might help heal the wounds of the heart as well. The scar of losing family probably couldn’t be cured with anything more than ointment, but I decided to believe it would help.
After we sent off that brief connection—
“Ughhh…… my eyes…… I’m dying……”
I collapsed limply onto the floor. The macho farewell had felt cool while the adrenaline lasted, but the moment the tension broke, the exhaustion from pushing myself way too far crashed down like a landslide.
“Ugh.”
Larilura caught me before I could sprawl completely. Her clothes were naturally stained with bodily fluids and potion residue, yet she looked at me with pure worry, as if none of that mattered.
“Senior, does it hurt a lot?”
“Not that much…… just a little sore all over. Your senior is currently medium-rare, extra bloody.”
“……Senior, jokes aside, your condition is seriously bad. You didn’t get hit by all that flashy lightning, did you?”
“All of it? At most two or three bolts. If I’d taken the whole barrage you’d have had to measure me for a coffin first.”
“Stop the bullshit and lie down already. Looks like you just slapped some cheap potion on and called it a day.”
—Flutter.
Dana stripped off her robe, spread it over the bed, and glared.
“We used up all the elixir we brought, too. If you don’t get proper treatment that wound’s going to scar forever, you know?”
“Even if it scars, I can get it healed later……”
I answered feebly but obediently lay down. Once the adrenaline or morphine or whatever had been pumping through me ran out, all strength left my body.
—Slide.
Dana sat beside me. Veronica sat down as well. Franc even offered her lap as a pillow. Being surrounded by my wives made me feel strangely awkward.
“……Franc. You don’t have to worry about me.”
“I want to worry.”
Franc half-closed her eyes and poked my cheek.
“Don’t think about my feelings or anything. Just stay still. It only makes me feel worse that Nord got hurt this badly because of me.”
“That’s not true, Franc. How could I treat something involving you like it was none of my business? The reason I got hurt is entirely because I was too weak.”
When I answered seriously, Dana clicked her tongue while casting healing magic.
“You know it well, you idiot. If you know it so well, why did you come back roasted on both sides? If you thought you couldn’t handle it alone you should have run and joined up with us.”
“No, fuck. You terrible wife. It’s because I couldn’t see that crazy bastard fighting, okay? The guy was spewing aura from his hands, shooting lightning, swinging Mjolnir around—it was no joke.”
“……Mjolnir?”
Veronica reacted to the familiar word, then continued without breaking the flow.
“My dear husband. Pray understand. The moment Dana heard thunder she declared she had to help you and tried to smash straight through the wall. She nearly had her head crushed by the hammer that man threw.”
“……Eyes?”
“……Shut up. We were just scared all three of us would end up widows without even having children.”
Dana made her excuse while tugging on my cheek. Her face was bright red. But why did all my wives keep pulling and poking their husband’s cheeks?
“By the way, that hammer was caught by me and Ringling 3.5!”
“Shit, our wife’s lifesaver is right here. Lady Priscilla, thank you very much. Loyalty, loyalty, loyalty.”
“Hehe. You can thank me more, you know~♡?”
She wasn’t even telling me not to use her real name anymore. As the treatment continued I felt my body growing heavier, yet I savored the softness of Franc’s thighs. Larilura, apparently bored, stuck herself to my side. She had been left alone at the foot of the bed.
“Larilura. Isn’t this positioning a bit weird?”
“Huh? In a four-person married party, don’t you think this is the perfect distance for someone like me who’s awkwardly tagging along without reading the room?”
“Wow, this girl’s talent for making people feel like trash is professional level.”
It was all my fault. When I raised the white flag our party members burst into laughter. It finally felt like the fight was truly over.
Veronica, who had been laughing as if enjoying herself, gently stroked my lightning-fried hair.
“By the way, my dear. Did you not say Mjolnir earlier?”
“Ah…… explaining that would be fucking long again. More than half of it is just my speculation.”
If I started talking it would probably sound like I was bragging about my exploits. Everyone knew our wives were understanding, but there was nothing women hated more than men going on about their heroic tales.
“You never not did that before? I’ll let half of it go in one ear, so just tell us, husband.”
“Sob sob. Today’s fight was hard.”
“Stop bullshitting. How did you end up twice as messed up as usual?”
“This husband’s rhymes are on point. Joking about her husband being in pain—your eyes are full of demons, I see.”
“Your mom, your mom.”
“Do you know that’s factual defamation?”
“Sue me then. I’ll just make the husband pay alimony anyway.”
Sigh. Why was my wife so prickly today? She was peeling my burnt skin with an expression like she was about to cry, yet her mouth and her actions didn’t match at all. Hey, are you crying?
“Uh—so, that thing.”
Feeling sorry, I started chattering and explained what had happened.
“The god was a weakling.”
“What, you punk?”
