I Respect You, Teacher Carrier

Tasili let out a long sigh, as if settling his mind.

"I mean it exactly as I said. Alone, he took the lives of an entire nation."

A Hero, killing people. If that wasn't the taboo of taboos — the shortest road to corruption — what was? Lupin couldn't claim to have consumed all that much fiction, but even so, she had never seen a Hero soak their hands in that much blood and go on living in their right mind. She had, however, seen the other sort: the lunatic who spilled so much demon blood that he threw his head back — Khahaha! I've cut down so many demons, I want to become one myself! Die, humans! — and drove his blade into his own planet.

The adventuring party Tasili had belonged to had probably weathered a crisis of just that kind. Perhaps the whole nation of Snohaim had been dancing on the Demon King's strings, and they had been forced to a crossroads. Lay that backdrop down and let Lupin hazard her own guess, and the picture drew itself: Tasili with the opposition, the Cult Leader with those in favor.

"Master, you were against the massacre?"

"Not that I mean to boast, but yes."

"The Hero — no, the Cult Leader — would've been for it. What about the rest of the party?"

"They opposed it. It was the Cult Leader's decision alone."

"Oof... that's a bit..."

It felt like a wrong that couldn't be forgiven. And yet, maybe they had only been able to bring the Demon King down because he made that choice. Still, Lupin wasn't of this world. Mm. Not her judgment to make. Once the thought fizzled out without a conclusion, her curiosity slipped sideways and pointed somewhere else.

"So all of you tried to hold him back, and the Cult Leader just knocked everyone flat and left?"

"That's right. The priest fought beside us even while wounded... but it wasn't enough."

Well, fair enough. That fist had split Lupin's skull in half. Nobody was going to hold up against it. An attack that flew straight into the nerves — hard not to get dizzy just thinking about it.

"You may well fear that fist now, the one that acts directly on the senses. But the Cult Leader's true terror lies elsewhere."

"Elsewhere?"

"He looks like a Grand Master of structured aura. He is not."

"...Huh?"

"To him, the fist is merely one way of expressing power. If he is the only Grand Master on the continent who wields formless aura — do you feel it?"

In other words, to the Cult Leader of the Heavenly Mandate Cult, a fist was nothing but a single technique. He had something greater still, something strong enough to outrun even Lupin's imagination. The first thing to surface in her head was that man from the pirate comic, the one ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠with the anchor-shaped beard. The miracle of throwing a punch into space itself, and having space split apart...

Should I send Klein back, even now?

For a moment she wondered if she had been too sure of herself — and then the fact that failing to clear this wall meant losing the Holy Ark snapped her wide awake. There had been nowhere to run from the start. When they met, she would have to fight, or she would have to come to terms. She had already been dragging Klein around for weeks, and he hadn't shown so much as the tip of his nose; that suggested he was treating the full strength of the Imperial Alliance and the North Country with considerable caution. Strongest alive in a one-on-one, but even he got a little uneasy when it was many against one? So maybe an amicable agreement was still possible? Even so, just in case, Lupin figured she ought to talk things over where Klein was concerned — ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠all while Klein herself hadn't the faintest dream that Lupin feared a clash with the Cult Leader.

"Come to think of it, a Lupin so interested in treasure chests ought to have heard that rumor."

"Rumor?"

"The national treasure of fallen Snohaim. Frederica's music box."

A chime sounded, as if in answer to Tasili. No status window appeared, so Lupin peered around and around, and only after a long search did she find the thing in the pocket of her harness.

It had simply been a cursed music box. Somewhere along the way, the name had changed. Tasili saw it and asked, startled.

"Where did you find this?"

"Mm. Found it while shaking down some bandits. Is it important?"

"This is the national treasure of Snohaim I just mentioned. The color leaves no doubt. When Snohaim's royalty wound this music box, Spirit King Frederica descended and fed the entire nation."

The Spirit King, once descended, had helped Aura Users form contracts with ice spirits — much as a Holy Ark raised a nation's Aura Users. Before the fall, Snohaim had apparently been the country with the most spirit mages in the world. Spirit mages were already drying up under industrialization and all the rest, and with Snohaim gone on top of that, they had become genuinely hard to come by. Or so she'd heard.

And that spirit? Lupin could call her up on the spot with a snap of her fingers. Reflecting on how she had grumbled back when she first received Pigeon Magic, she found herself, with fresh sincerity, admitting the trick was a cheat skill. And so, without another word, she gave it one more click.

Meanwhile Tasili, who had opened the music box and was turning it this way and that, spoke.

"But... I don't see a winding key."

"A key? Ah. So it's a wind-up."

"There should be a key that fits this hole. It seems to have been lost."

"Either way, we can't use it."

"More than that, there's a high chance it's cursed, so better not to."

"Cursed?"

Tasili swept his beard downward and sank into thought. This might be a story tied to the Hero's party. Lupin waited for him to go on.

"It was just before the Cult Leader cut down Snohaim's royalty. The Demon King appeared and, in the Cult Leader's place, stabbed the last remaining royal and contaminated them with demonic miasma. At that moment, the royal was holding the music box for the rite to summon the Spirit King. So the odds it was cursed are high."

Lupin turned it over and muttered.

"Think a vengeful ghost got in? Like, I can't die like thiiis—"

"Ghosts do not exist. It would simply be contamination by ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠demonic miasma. Those who came from another world know how to corrupt aura."

Ah. So this was a worldview where the occult didn't exist at all. But hadn't she seen something ghost-ish a few times while hunting Abandoned Chests? Surely that hadn't been her imagination?

"What happens if you wind a music box contaminated with demonic miasma?"

"Without a key, there's no way it can operate.... If it did, something strange would certainly happen. But no one can predict what. That is the danger of miasmic contamination."

Tasili said it was easiest to picture things like test subjects. Those monsters — the ones with an innate resistance to aura — were themselves mutations born of demonic miasma. Curious, Lupin put her imagination to work. The Spirit King wouldn't be summoned at all, and suddenly the whole area would become a snowfield? That would be quite a spectacle. Snow in high summer. It might even become a famous tourist spot. Or maybe a cool breeze would blow around whoever wound the box, all year round. A walking human air conditioner.

Would it be all right to try it somewhere with no people? It's getting on toward midsummer, and the weather's hot....

As if he had read the thought, Tasili probed her lightly.

"I do hope you aren't thinking it might be fine to wind it somewhere without people."

Lupin sprang like a cat that had just found a cucumber at its back.

"Ghk! N-n-no. What. Hah! As if!"

The next day.

After ordering his subordinates to guard the mountain stronghold well, Dharma Protector Cheong crossed hill and field with the little young master on his back. He was tracking Lupin by the Manrihyang. Repeat a meeting disguised as chance often enough, and it becomes inevitability — a chance, perhaps, to draw a righteous knight-errant naturally onto their side.

He followed the border down for a long while and came to the slopes north of Shanhai Pass. The greenwood camps found there had been reduced to ruins, nothing left but traces. A wagon sat nearby, and atop it several figures of identical appearance were stacking boxes, one neatly atop the next. A ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠tall woman. One of the Rounds. Ekaterina.

Before he could even wonder why Ekaterina was here, the gold token fastened to her sleeve caught his eye.

Why is that thing in Ekaterina's hands?

It was bewildering. The gold token scented with Manrihyang ought to have been with Lupin — so why had it ended up in a Round's possession? Had Lupin been caught while playing at being a thief? Dharma Protector Cheong began to step quietly backward. He had come a long way and wore light garb, like an ordinary martial artist of Cheonghwa, but that did nothing to ease his unease.

There was something people forgot, though, because they only ever saw Ekaterina loafing — slapdash, half-hearted, going through the motions. The moment she fixated on something, she drove her opponent into a corner without a single gap: monstrous instinct, and those signature clones. The clone barring the path of Dharma Protector Cheong, who had been about to flee, was enough to show just how sharp she was right now.

"Who are you? Doesn't look like a bandit."

Dharma Protector Cheong stilled his trembling chest and spoke.

"A wandering swordsman, passing through. The mountains were rough, and I lost my way. If it seemed I was spying, allow me to apologize for the discourtesy."

The true enemy of Snohaim was the Heavenly Mandate Cult, and the Cult Leader who stood at its peak. But Dharma Protector Cheong's intent — to restore a nation that had already vanished onto the territory of nations that very much still existed — could look, to a Round who upheld the order of the Imperial Alliance, thoroughly treasonous. That was why he was tense before a Round. Had their eyes met at the mountain stronghold yesterday?

"Where are you headed? If it's Beijing, it's that way."

Fortunately, Ekaterina kindly pointed the way. Relieved, Dharma Protector Cheong bowed his head and turned at once. What she said next was chilling enough to cool his spine even in the heat.

"Hold on. The little one on your back... something familiar. Have I seen them somewhere?"

Time passed in a tension that felt as if it would stop his breath. In that span Dharma Protector Cheong ignored her and took five more steps——

"Hey. Can't you hear me? You're not about to ignore a Round's questioning and just walk off, are you?"

The Rounds stood above the law. They were walking courts, and if you refused questioning, you could be punished on the spot, legally. But Ekaterina was Rostov's Round. She could not wield legal authority in other nations as well. So on his sixth step, Dharma Protector Cheong turned and spoke without flinching.

"From here on is Cheonghwa's territory. A Round will not be able to pass judgment."

Ekaterina grinned. That exchange had told her Dharma Protector Cheong was no ordinary man. Everyone in the world admired the Rounds, but few understood that their authority grew and shrank with the border. More than that, Ekaterina was thoroughly disliked by the other Rounds, so calling on Cheonghwa's Round for support would be difficult. Ask, and she would only be scolded for grabbing innocent people. If Dharma Protector Cheong had known that, and had crossed the border marked by the small wooden posts on purpose, it was all the more suspicious. So Ekaterina did not let it go.

"Sorry. I'm confiscating this. You're too suspicious — I don't feel like just letting you walk."

"...!"

Something glinted in her hand, and when he looked, it was the winding key he had originally worn inside his clothes, hung like a necklace. The key Dharma Protector Cheong had found first and kept, so it could be fitted into Frederica's music box. When?

For the first time in a long while, Ekaterina wore the confident, dignified smile of a proper Round.

"If you want it back, tell me straight what you are. Of course, if you're someone suspicious, I'm dragging you off. You were ready for at least that much when you provoked me crossing the border, weren't you?"

Inwardly, of course, she was delighted. She had something new to brag about to Mom.