Shadow Step
After finishing a simple breakfast, the party set out to hunt down Krumo’s shadow.
Daeun was left alone in Atisha’s manor.
With even the owner gone, there was nothing at all she could do.
Atisha had told her not to worry about it, but that didn’t mean Daeun, as a guest, could go rummaging through the house however she pleased.
“Sigh….”
Perched on the edge of the bed, Daeun stared blankly out the window and let out a heavy sigh.
If her mother had seen it, she would have shouted, “You’re going to cave the floor in like that!” and smacked her on the back.
“Because I’m weak….”
Daeun turned Canaria’s words over in her mind.
The one who had “the weakest one among the Four Heavenly Kings” was, of course, her.
And she knew that even if she had followed along, she wouldn’t have been much help.
No, if she had merely been useless, that would have been a relief. Her kind-hearted companions would have been so busy worrying about her that they probably wouldn’t have fought properly at all.
She’d have been nothing but a burden.
If she were to put it in a metaphor, she was probably like a log that had soaked up way too much water.
“But… I didn’t want to just sit there and watch, either.”
If the party that went to subjugate Krumo’s shadow—especially Canaria—came back hurt, she felt like she’d never forgive herself for standing by and doing nothing.
So even though she knew she wouldn’t be much help if she went, Daeun had stubbornly insisted.
“Thinking about it now, I do kind of feel bad….”
How much trouble had she caused Canaria with that stubbornness of hers?
Daeun gave a wry smile as she thought of the little girl who had kept sneaking looks at her, pretending not to care.
The viewers in Daeun’s stream were only too happy to laugh at her misfortune.
Even the chat messages that looked, at a glance, as if they were comforting her were really just making fun of her when she looked closer.
In other words, the sort of chat that was basically, to put it bluntly, teasing her or making a fool of her.
Hah.
Letting out a short breath, Daeun switched the broadcast screen to the outro she used when ending her stream.
“…That’s it for today. If I go live again later, I will.”
“Then bye.”
The viewers’ protests soared to the heavens, but Daeun ignored them and ended the stream.
Later today, or maybe tomorrow, when she went live again, there would be chaos.
Daeun could already picture the chat blazing furiously, set alight by her angry viewers.
Future me, I’m counting on you!
But that was the future self’s problem.
Even if her future self tore into her with every insult under the sun—“idiot… irresponsible bitch…” and so on—the present Daeun only felt refreshed.
“What should I do now…?”
She had turned off the stream, so should she log out and do some housework?
As she thought it over, Daeun’s hand brushed against something hard, long, and cool.
It was the longsword she used.
She looked down at the blade.
Because I’m weak.
Canaria’s voice played back in her head so vividly it was as if someone had pressed a tape recorder to her ear.
“It’s sad to live when you’re weak.”
And here she’d thought she’d improved a lot.
Even Celine trying to stop her had been, to be honest, a little shocking.
“Maybe I should practice swordsmanship.”
Just you wait. She’d train hard and press down on Canaria’s proud little nose bridge until it flattened.
The chance of that ever happening was practically zero, but motivation was motivation, wasn’t it?
Taking up her sword and leaving the manor, Daeun’s spirit was fierce enough to be compared to a general marching off to war after presenting his war manifesto.
Whether the rumor had spread overnight or not, the demons regarded her with far more caution than they had yesterday.
If yesterday their gaze had been 20 percent curiosity and 80 percent wariness, today it had become 80 percent curiosity and 20 percent wariness.
Daeun caught one of those gazes and asked if there was an open patch of ground where she could train.
“Ah, over there? Thank you for telling me.”
Thanks to the helpful demon, Daeun easily found a vacant lot.
It was, quite literally, just an empty lot.
“Well, I did ask for an empty lot.”
She had politely declined the demon’s suggestion that, if she wanted to practice, she could use the training yard instead.
“Practicing while strangers are staring at me feels a little weird.”
Daeun still remembered the looks the gym veterans had given her when she first stepped into the gym.
The flavor was a little different here, of course, but she still had no interest in being stared at with the unspoken, “That’s not how you do it.”
Besides, she was already used to swinging a sword at empty air.
“It was like this… right?”
Remembering the small hand that had corrected her posture, Daeun settled into position.
The feel of the sword grip, which had once felt awkward, was now familiar.
So the day had come when she would train by herself….
Truly, the viewers would be shocked, her friends would be appalled, and Canaria would be jealo—no, she probably wouldn’t be.
Daeun snickered at the pointless thought.
Shwaaaak!
The sword cut through the air with a sharp cry.
It was a powerful strike—one that would have earned admiration from anyone watching—but Daeun, the one who had actually swung it, knitted her brow.
“…I still don’t get it.”
How was she supposed to handle mana?
When she used a skill, mana flowed into the sword, but that wasn’t what she wanted.
She wanted to be able to handle mana even without using a skill.
That was the level she was aiming for, but she still couldn’t get a grip on it.
At one point, she had asked Canaria how she could control mana so well.
“Mana?”
“Yeah. I want to use mana like you do, Canaria.”
“You’re already using mana…. Ah, right.”
After hearing Daeun’s words, Canaria nodded as if she’d understood something.
“I can teach you if you want.”
“-Can?”
“For now, practice your sword first.”
If she kept moving her body, she would naturally learn it.
That was what Canaria had said.
“If you still can’t get it, I’ll teach you myself.”
“O-okay…. Please do.”
It was definitely a kind thing to say, so why did it make her uneasy?
Still, Daeun had received Canaria’s promise of help, but she hadn’t stopped feeling impatient.
She also wanted to show Canaria that she could do it without any help.
“I wonder if Yuki knows….”
For some reason, it felt like Yuki would know.
Muttering to herself, Daeun struggled this way and that to control mana.
Of course, her attempt failed again.
“Hoo….”
Focused on her practice, Daeun eventually noticed her shoulders and arms, which she had been swinging for so long, growing stiff. She sheathed her sword.
How long had it been?
Maybe a few minutes.
Maybe a few hours.
Even though her body was exhausted, Daeun felt a sense of pride at having thrown herself into training to the point of losing herself in it.
She had worked this hard, so maybe she had gotten one step closer—no, half a step, at least.
Grrrrowl—
“Ah.”
Her stomach chose the perfect moment to growl, as if pointing out what a ridiculous thought that was.
There was no one around, but she still glanced about awkwardly and scratched her cheek.
“It’s already empty again? I should hurry back and eat…. …Actually, there’s no need to do that.”
Daeun remembered that even if she went back, there wouldn’t be anyone to eat with.
And the ingredients at the manor were all soaked through with magi….
Maybe it would be better to just eat here.
“No. Actually, what if Krumo’s shadow is just an overly grandiose name and they’ve already dealt with it and come back?”
Yeah, yeah. Canaria was strong, so maybe that really had happened.
Fine. Back to the manor.
She hesitated, drifted, and wandered without any clear direction until at last her footprints across the empty lot settled on a destination.
Just as Daeun turned back toward the manor, she suddenly noticed that the sky had gone dark.
“…Huh?”
Was it about to rain?
“That’d be a pain if it does….”
She muttered it and lifted her head to look up at the sky.
Her eyes slowly widened.
Whoooosh—
A fierce wind slapped Daeun’s hair across her face.
But she couldn’t even think of fixing the mess.
A vast shadow had overturned the sky.
The scent of scorched ash rode the wind.
“That….”
What?
Just as Daeun was about to voice her question—
Kwaaaaaa—
Black-red flames poured down from the heavens.
* * *
Atisha tilted her head.
“It should be here….”
She had been leading us, but now she looked around in confusion.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure…. Look…. You can still see traces here….”
“Hmm.”
I scanned the huge claw marks and the monster corpses strewn everywhere.
Sure enough, it did look like it.
But there was no sign of Krumo’s shadow anywhere near the lair it seemed to have made—not even the shadow of Krumo’s shadow.
The shadow of a shadow. That sounded weird no matter how I said it.
“If we keep looking, we’ll find something.”
If it really did have draconic traits, maybe it had sensed us invading its nest and would come looking for us.
So our party searched the surrounding area and waited for hours for the thing to show up.
“…It’s not coming.”
“It’s not coming….”
“It doesn’t seem to be coming.”
Still, no sign of it.
“Maybe it already moved its nest?”
“If so, that would be a relief, but….”
Atisha said she had a bad feeling about this.
“Hmm….”
Normally I’d have told Atisha not to say ominous things like that.
But I had a bad feeling too.
I just didn’t say it out loud.
What would be the point? It would only drag morale down.
“Still, it really is close to the village.”
It was amazing there hadn’t been any clashes until now.
If I focused, I could probably even see the village from here.
While I was testing that thought and looking toward the village, something caught my eye.
“…Atisha.”
“Mm…?”
“Is Krumo’s shadow some kind of monster that looks like a black-scaled wyvern?”
“Yeah… but…?”
“Yeah.”
So that was the source of the bad feeling both Atisha and I had been getting.
I nodded and spoke in a low voice.
“We’re screwed.”
Apparently, we weren’t the only ones who thought the best defense was a good offense.