The Sun's Blessing
Black Wolf. That was me.
Yellow Dragon. That was me, too.
Shit.
I was screwed.
What the hell am I supposed to do with that?
Go catch myself, apparently.
"The commission is complete, Your Majesty."
"Yes! And where is Black Wolf?"
"Here. I am Black Wolf."
"...Hm?"
"...Yes?"
"...Hm?"
"...Yes?"
Is that even a conversation a person could have?
Worse, a highest-grade warrant was already out on Black Wolf. Walk in like that and it wouldn't matter which face I wore. Black Wolf or Yellow Dragon, the head was coming off either way. The one small mercy was that the Named Commission hadn't been forced on me yet. If refusing it meant failing a subquest, or tripping a bad ending, I would have had to solve the thing even by the absurd method above.
A grace period of 7 days has been granted until the next bad ending, 6.???, is set!
The system was still quiet, though. Fail the commission, or abandon it outright, and nothing much seemed likely to come of it.
So just refuse.
I'd been walking around in Black Wolf's face, sure, but I'd already left them a direct hint. It would be fine.
"Ah. We're here, Yellow Dragon."
"...So we are."
The thought finished just as we reached the capital branch of the Mercenary Alliance. Dalan, who had been treating me as Yellow Dragon ever since we slipped the barrier of the Verdant Forest, tipped me a sly smile.
"Been a while. We ought to have a drink, don't you think?"
"Refusing the commission comes first."
"Oh, come on. You joyless man. The Branch Chief won't even clock in until noon. You planning to stand around like a post for a whole hour?"
Annoyingly, he had a point.
A Named Commission. The client named the mercenary personally, and the security on a thing like that put an ordinary request to shame—as did the pay. If the named mercenary refused, only someone of Branch Chief rank could process the refusal.
"Then again, from what I overheard, he's being questioned over that mess at dawn yesterday. Noon, my foot. Play it right and he might not come in today at all."
The Branch Chief's seat was empty precisely because Black Wolf had shown himself at dawn.
"Is that true?"
"Don't play dumb. You can hear them too, can't you? The small fry in there, running their mouths."
I really can't, old man.
"Anyway, since that's how it is, let's pick up a little information on the first floor and then head back."
"You just wanted a drink."
"Hey now, Yellow Dragon! What do you take me for! ...You've got me dead to rights."
I followed him to the entrance, and it was exactly as he'd said.
"So the sewer rat was Black Wolf's doing too?"
"Who knows, friend. Anyway, if Lady Ruby's gone in for questioning, something more ought to be making the rounds by tomorrow, no?"
"Still. Taking Lady Ruby hostage? What kind of bastard does that?"
"Wait, wait, brothers—Lady Ruby isn't coming in today?! I bought flowers!!"
"Pfft! A B-rank scrub ought to know what he can and can't reach for! Sit down and drink, kid!"
Black Wolf's name was moving through the room, and with it the news that Ruby wouldn't be coming to work.
"What did you do?"
"What needed doing."
"Haaah. Magnificent. Truly."
Magnificent, my ass. I cringe every time I open my mouth.
"Enough. We'll do as you said, Dalan. Gather a little information, then go."
"H-hey, w-wait!!"
What's his problem?
I ignored the thumbs-up he was shooting me and threw the Mercenary Alliance doors wide.
"I-it's Lord Yellow Dragon!!"
"Oh, fuck!! Move!! Out of the way, right now!! This time I am getting Lord Yellow Dragon's signature if it kills me!!"
"L-Lord Yellow Dragon!! I just landed an A-rank commission—won't you come with me!?"
Mercenaries came at me in a wave.
You sparkle. You shine. Gosh, so cool. If anyone harboring Respect for you looks upon that glittering light, they are afflicted with the status Worship. The Sun's Blessing is the greatest in the whole world!
Eyes glittering. Arms linked through mine with not a breath of distance. Voices trembling, sweet as sugar.
...So this is Worship.
The full-body rush of a pop idol hitting the stage lasted about a second. Then the crowd that had packed in around me started raising its voice.
"I was in line first!!"
"A D-rank nobody, shouting?! And I dropped my pants first!!"
"Why, exactly, did you take your pants off?"
"How else am I supposed to get a signature!!"
Now this is a proper shitshow.
I was being shoved every which way with no idea how to stop it when Dalan sidled up.
"See? Why'd you go in first? Follow behind me like you usually do and none of this happens."
Oh, right. I had this old man.
I nudged the nearest bodies back and leaned in at his ear.
"Get this under control."
Because I am tired enough to die.
Dalan didn't move. He worried at it for a moment where the others couldn't see, set a hand on his sword hilt, and asked me back.
"Is that a request from the Sun? Or... a command handed down by the Moon?"
Blue light turned in the eyes that asked it. Clear as open sea, and deep as a lightless trench—the moment I met them, I understood.
So Dalan really is Black Wolf.
He'd played the easy, familiar middle-aged man so well that I'd never rated him past a tenth-tier hand. Now that I'd given an order, it was different. If I answered that this wasn't a request from Yellow Dragon, but a command from Black Wolf...
...he'd clear the room even if he had to kill every last one of them.
I caught the chill of it and let the strength slip out of my voice, wheedling like Yellow Dragon.
"Come now, Monster Dragon. Just help me out a little. What's the point of a friend?"
"...Very well."
A brief standoff. Dalan looked at me from beyond the helm, and then the sly smile was back.
"Thanks to you, Yellow Dragon, a seat's opened up. I'll go ahead and drink."
"Wait. Isn't that a bit much?"
"Ho ho. What's the point of a friend?"
He turned, old coat flaring. The crowd pressing in would never have known.
...The click of a sword settling home.
That madman had drawn his blade fully meaning to kill them all.
"Hey, kid! Two beers over here—no, scratch that. Yellow Dragon's too popular to sit down anytime soon, so just bring the one for now!!"
And then he was grinning and ordering a drink as if nothing at all had happened. I swear, there isn't a single normal person in the Black Wolf.
Which brought me back to the problem.
"Just one signature!! Please, just one signature on my panties, Lord Yellow Dragon!!"
"Tch. A rival, is it? No wonder that bastard Talon. I thought his panties smelled especially fine today."
"...Brother Namgung. How would you know that?"
How do I get out of here?
"E-everyone?"
I gave up after a moment's flailing and tried, carefully, to talk my way out.
"YEEEEESSSSS!!!!!!!!"
"Lord Yellow Dragon called on me!!!!!"
"It's me, you bastard!!!"
"Brother Namgung, how would you know that!!!!"
All I'd done was make it worse. Open my mouth and they cheered. Shift half a step aside and they poured into the gap and stuck to me.
Maybe I should just run.
I'd turned, finally, to look for a way out when a man painted head to toe in blood came barreling into the Alliance, white to the lips.
"D-disaster!!"
Steel rang.
"That's far enough."
The clerks, friendly faces a moment ago, had weapons out and leveled in a breath. The rest of the mercenaries fixed him with the same look.
The man saw the blades, and only then did he choke his panic down and speak to the clerk.
"I—I'm Mud, an E-rank mercenary!! Unknown assailants have appeared in the middle of the Central Plaza, right now!! They've called a crowd together, and they keep killing the people they dragged in!!"
...What?
An execution, in the Central Plaza—the very heart of the Babylonia capital?
What kind of lunatics—
I was about to bolt out and see for myself.
A soft slide of steel. The clerk in the maid uniform checked the mercenary badge, then lowered the axe.
"Do go on."
"Go on with what?! People are dying this very second, I'm telling you!! Shouldn't we be going to help them right now?! The Central Guard was wiped out ages ago!!"
The man, mud-colored as the name suggested, was still shouting when the clerk asked, bone-dry:
"Is this a commission?"
"...What?"
"One gold, minimum. Ranks F through D may also be hired by private agreement, payable in silver."
"People are fucking dying!!"
He roared it and swept the inside of the Mercenary Alliance with his eyes.
Cold looks. A few bright with interest. Not one person stood up.
There was nothing else they could have done. These were people who staked the only life they had just to earn today and tomorrow—a trade that kept death close enough that staying sane was the harder work. Climb high enough and you went mad. Linger in the middle and you made a mistake. Stay low, and the cold and the hunger finished you in the end. That was a mercenary of Babylonia.
A thoroughly pessimistic world, and for that very reason a realistic one. The world of a dark fantasy. Feeling it again, the stir in my chest slowly went quiet.
...Right. And what exactly was I going to do if I went?
No delusions. I wasn't Black Wolf, and I wasn't Yellow Dragon. I was a person, ordinary to the bone. A run of fortune had made me a little stronger. A little. That was all.
The Central Guard was B+. As a unit. Which meant A-rank knights were mixed through their ranks, and people of that caliber had been taken apart to the last. I didn't know what kind of madmen were responsible, but they were as strong as they were insane. That much was certain.
I'm human, too.
And not even a human of this Babylonia. An ordinary twenty-five-year-old from Korea. Of course the dying were pitiable. Of course the mercenaries who wouldn't move were hateful. Of course I wanted to step out like a hero and put a stop to it.
But I'm afraid.
I didn't know how to stop it, and even if I found a way, I didn't know whether I could make it real. What mattered to me now was the bad ending that would start a week from today. Stop the remaining ten as fast as I could, go home, and see my friend's dream through. This place was only a story in a book. A person only has to live their own life well. It might not even be real. So I was going to keep my head down, move for nothing but my own goal, and absolutely not step forward.
And then he said it.
"Those bastards put a robe and a mask on a little kid and they're making the kid do the killing!!"
That, I couldn't ignore.
"Monster Dragon."
Not Black Wolf's voice. Not Yellow Dragon's. Nothing in it but anger.
"We're going to end this. Now."
"...Is that so."
The voice at least resembled Black Wolf's, and Monster Dragon rose from where he'd been sitting. By the time the chair finished scraping, a path had already opened between us. He walked it, and he asked.
"Is that a request from the Sun? Or a command handed down by the Moon?"
One choice, and the result swung to the opposite extreme. Hide that I was Black Wolf, and the answer was the first. Get his help no matter what, and it was the second. I only had to pick according to what I wanted. But stopping what was happening out there—
"It's what has to be done."
I answered short and turned. Dalan murmured, barely loud enough to hear.
"You are always exactly as you were, that very first time."
"Then I'm glad."
At least it meant the Nahan of this world hadn't been some unhinged murderer.
"So. Shall I kill every one of the culprits for you?"
"Take them alive if you can. If you can't, kill them."
"Pfft—!"
"Then I don't get to kill them, do I?"
Dalan burst out laughing, stroked the old sword, and smiled as if he had all the time in the world.
Slowly.
"W-wait!! It really wasn't me!! I only passed along a few vials of the drug!!"
"Ugh. I thought that smell was foul."
"S-save—!!"
Taking her time.
The dagger moved like a dance, and the screaming man's head dropped with a dull roll.
A slender silhouette, childlike at a glance, prodded the fallen head with a fingertip and mused.
"Hmm... Duller than I thought. It'd be so much easier to clean them all up in one go, like before."
"Not allowed. The Captain's... hint."
"Tal! I told you not to nag me! Anyway, how long am I supposed to kill them one at a time?"
"People. More must... gather."
"Yeah? Then we'll need a better show, won't we?"
Her gaze flicked, a dreadful emerald, over the trash bound at her feet.
"Found one. You're next!"
"No, I said no!!"
"Mm. I don't like you either. You stink. Ugh, I can't even play with you."
Another chop. The blood-stink was thick enough to sting the nose, and she didn't care.
"Whew. Who should be next?"
Once the cleaning was finished, the sweetest-scented person in the world would come back and hold her tight, just like before.
...But, you know.
"That one's scent is really nice."
...Enough that she wanted it.
The woman sniffed the air, and quietly watched the golden armor drawing nearer from far off.
"...Dalan. Am I seeing this wrong?"
"Not a chance. Those are definitely our kids. My, my—been a while. Good to see them."
"...Don't wave."
"Ah. Forgive me, Captain."
I am actually going to lose my goddamn mind.