Five Desires and Seven Emotions (5)

In the end, their departure was delayed by a day.

The reason was that Esmeralda had knocked Jim out cold and dragged him halfway to the afterlife's doorstep.

As far as this whole affair went, Jim's only fault was being endlessly, brazenly confident in himself. And, come to think of it, the fact that he hadn't doubted the temptation for even a second.

Truthfully, neither of those quite deserved to be called a fault.

After all, the whole incident had started with Irina's honey-drenched flirting.

"You ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠really are... something else, you know that?"

Esmeralda had watched Irina, flustered to the point of tears, and thought that at the very least, this much of a lesson had to have landed.

Surely now she would abandon her plan to spirit Jim away and run off with him?

That was what she'd believed.

But look at her now.

Undeterred by failure, she was now studying for her next attempt.

And she was starting from there? Esmeralda, who had assumed Irina's purity was nothing more than an act perfected to deceive people, realized it hadn't been the whole story at all.

Even with her face burning scarlet, Irina was reading the book with utter seriousness.

Pure... she really had been pure.

'Then that time before, when...'

Esmeralda ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠began recalling the book she and Irina had read together in the carriage, then quickly shook her head. That had been the catalyst that sent the two of them careening off the rails at full throttle.

The culprit, of course, was their sheer ignorance of the subject.

Ignorance really was a terrifying thing.

Terrifyingly, terrifyingly terrifying.

"Pfft."

Esmeralda snorted at the awful pun that had popped into her head. For a woman who had worked herself to the bone like a beast of burden her entire life, even a stupid bit of wordplay like that was a delight.

And so, at that very moment — Esmeralda secretly smiling to herself, Irina fidgeting restlessly over her sex-ed book —

"Hrk?!"

Jim, who had been unconscious, came to with a strangled, dying-animal yelp.

"Hah... hah..."

"Jim, are you all right?"

Unfortunately, Jim's condition upon waking was worse than expected.

Worried she might have hit him somewhere she shouldn't have when she knocked him out, Esmeralda anxiously grabbed his hand and asked after him.

Ordinarily this would have been Irina's job, but she was still too rattled by what had happened earlier to do anything except hover awkwardly at a distance.

Esmeralda, feeling partly responsible herself, didn't call her out on it.

Then a single tear rolled down Jim's cheek.

"Why are you crying all of a sudden?"

"I had... I had a dream."

"Sounds like it was a nightmare."

When you thought about it, Jim really did lead a wretched life.

After all, he'd had reasons he couldn't back out of from the moment he accepted the mission to infiltrate the Hero Party.

"It wasn't a nightmare. No, it was the happiest dream of my life, actually..."

"Then why on earth are you crying like it's the saddest thing in the world?"

"Because it was only a dream."

Jim clutched at empty air, as though he'd lost something precious beyond all recovery. At the sight, Irina flinched hard and edged a little further away.

"Ah. I... see."

Esmeralda could piece it together now. Having passed out mid-grope on Irina's chest, he apparently believed the whole thing had been a dream.

"Well, of course it was a dream. Something that wonderful couldn't just happen out of nowhere... Even now, I swear I can still feel it in my hands. And to be told it was fake — it's heartbreaking. Truly, deeply sad."

"..."

Fortunately, there was no need to prepare any excuses. Jim himself was convinced it had to have been a dream, because anything else was impossible.

"Ah, o land flowing with milk and honey, o paradise... why, oh why..."

"Hyaaah?!"

Irina trembled like a leaf at the sight of Jim grasping at nothing.

And yet, even as she shuddered, she seemed to be deliberating over whether she ought to offer her own body up instead.

It could only be called remarkable devotion.

"Irina, it's just a figure of speech. Calm down."

Esmeralda handled it with the weary grace of an adult. She had long since grown used to Jim's brand of sexual harassment.

Thanks to the lingering aftereffects of her authority, the Emerald Tablet, she had spent ages single-handedly absorbing the brunt of Jim's lust. By now she could keep a perfectly straight face through far worse than this.

Irina, on the other hand, had spent her career playing politics at the very center of power, and she had zero resistance to sexual ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠harassment this direct and this... specific.

Then again, who in their right mind would dare utter so much as a lewd joke in front of the Saintess of the Heavenly God Order?

Politically or personally, it simply couldn't be done.

And anyone who had tried would surely be dead by now.

"The Demon King... do you think I could ever catch him?"

Esmeralda gazed at Jim wistfully reminiscing about the feel of Irina's chest, and Irina half-delirious at the sight of him, and felt a pang of doubt.

Maybe setting out on the journey alone would have been better after all, she thought.

Once Jim's lunacy had run its course, a day later, the Hero Party set out on their journey once more—

"Hm. Fortunate timing, indeed. To think I would have the honor of meeting you like this. Hero, Lady Esmeralda."

"...Yes, the honor is mine as well, Tower Master Glisha."

They hadn't managed to leave. Before they could, a welcome party had come out to greet them.

She was the master of one of the Seven Great Magic Towers of the continent — the Glacies Magic Tower.

Glisha Lentissimo.

The moment she laid eyes on her, Esmeralda froze stiff, unable to even put on her usual clown act.

She had heard the words "Magic Tower" all her life, but she'd never grasped what they actually meant until now.

Yes. The enemy's full strength reflected in her eyes dwarfed anything she had imagined, by an entire order of magnitude.

Even measured against Eleven, the Legion Commander she had once faced, this woman was stronger.

For a fleeting instant, Esmeralda wondered why someone like this had never taken the field in the war — but she quickly shook her head.

Someone holding that much power and influence was worth far more holding the rear than standing on the front lines.

Worse still, even with her ability, she couldn't pierce the surface of Glisha Lentissimo's thoughts. No — to be precise, she couldn't read them at all.

It was nothing like human thought.

Esmeralda understood in a flash. Endless layers upon layers of meaning had piled on top of one another until the whole of it curdled into unreadable noise.

What filled that woman's vision was surely not one world but dozens, hundreds of them — which was why, upon glimpsing a single thing, she perceived dozens, hundreds in turn.

Yes. Because she saw the world in a way no one else could, they called her one who had grasped the truth of things.

Esmeralda went pale. What she was witnessing in Glisha's mind at this very moment was a state of thought Milia had only ever shown her once in a great while — and only in the thick of violent battle — now running calmly, at all times.

"Milia has told me a great deal about you all. A child with no friends, you see — I worry about her terribly. And to hear she has grown close enough to you all that you would come out to meet her in person... truly, it warms this old heart."

Glisha smiled upon them with the benevolence of a grandmother greeting her granddaughter's guests.

Esmeralda couldn't tell whether it was genuine or an act.

After all, weren't the Magic Towers the very people who had wanted to take Esmeralda's corpse and dissect it for research?

One look at Milia's warped mental state made it obvious the Tower was no ordinary place.

'Deep breath. Stay sharp.'

Fortunately, they had a Saintess with them — Irina.

In terms of authority and backing, the woman was second to none, so even if they walked straight into the Magic Tower like this, nothing untoward would befall Esmeralda.

However far the Heavenly God Order had fallen, if their Saintess were ever threatened, they would declare a holy war against the culprit — even if that culprit was a Magic Tower.

"I shall be using spatial transfer magic. It is quicker, and far more convenient, you'll agree."

"We're so sorry to put you to the trouble. Thank you kindly."

Irina, who had been watching the exchange unfold from the back, shoved Esmeralda aside and stepped forward to offer her thanks.

The message was clear: from here on, she would carry the conversation.

Partly because Esmeralda lacked political savvy, of course —

"Though wouldn't it be proper to tell us our destination first?"

"Heh heh heh heh heh."

— and partly because Irina had tasted the Glacies Tower Master's scheming nature often enough in political circles to be thoroughly sick of it.

"Sharp as ever, I see, Lady Saintess."

"You're too kind, Tower Master. So then — where exactly are we headed? I don't believe I've heard an answer yet."

"My, my. Where would you like to go?"

"The front gate of Glacies Magic Tower would be best, wouldn't it? Announcing our arrival to everyone nearby would be more comfortable for all parties involved."

Two women, both wearing beatific smiles — one gentle as a grandmother, the other sweet as a flower — trading words that belonged to an entirely different conversation. Esmeralda felt the sudden urge to throw up.

Glisha knew that Milia had changed.

She had not welcomed the fact. To be fair, that was her opinion alone — the other Tower Masters had embraced it gladly, for the change had widened Milia's thinking all the further.

But Glisha was different.

Her magic was water, ice, and stillness — the magic of freezing things in place.

And so she did not care for change.

To freeze a moment and preserve it forever — that was the ideal she pursued.

In that spirit, she had been displeased that Milia, whose emotions had seemed frozen solid since childhood, had lately begun to thaw.

Of course, she had no intention of turning Milia into a doll out of her own selfishness.

It didn't please her, but—

'That is clearly the right path, in the end.'

Glisha had not insisted.

Even if Milia walked a different road than the one Glisha would have chosen, she would undoubtedly complete some grand magic capable of lifting humanity a whole stage higher.

To meddle would be to obstruct Milia's evolution — nothing less.

And yet...

'So then. Who was it? Who taught our Milia these strange things?'

She did want to at least put a face to the culprit.

And if she could squeeze in a little petty retaliation while she was at it, all the better.

Glisha swept her gaze across the members of the Hero Party, smiling with grandmotherly warmth.

Her eyes traveled over Esmeralda, Irina, and Jim in turn.

'There you are. It was you, wasn't it.'

Her gaze came to rest on none other than the Saintess — Irina.

A splendid deduction, delivered by one who had spent long ages comprehending the world and arriving at its underlying truths.

It missed by a country mile.

It was, in its way, proof that the Tower Masters were still human after all.

Recalling the book Milia had been carrying around everywhere these days, Glisha fixed on Irina as the culprit beyond any doubt.

'Typical brood-mare of the Order. Corrupting our pure, innocent Milia like this.'

Had the woman in question — several dozen times purer than Milia herself — heard that inner monologue, she would have clutched the back of her neck and collapsed on the spot.

Glisha nodded to herself, satisfied that her case was closed, then stole a glance at Jim.

'Hm. She keeps a demon in tow, does she?'

A slave, perhaps?

Glisha worried that the arrangement might have a bad influence on Milia.

And in a certain sense, her worry ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was not entirely wrong.