Escape (3)
A man of unknown identity, draped in a black robe. And yet, for reasons I couldn't immediately place, his bearing was cautious to a degree you could read at a glance.
I caught on at once. He had gotten something about this situation thoroughly, completely wrong.
...Don't tell me it's because of the Fist Saint.
Had he been watching when I killed the Fist Saint? Was that why he had me pegged as some catastrophically dangerous figure — someone even more of a threat than the Fist Saint himself?
...Yeah, that was a misunderstanding you could hardly blame him for. His reaction made sense, then. What other reason would a powerhouse on par with the Fist Saint have to be this wary of some nobody prisoner?
Either way, it was a misunderstanding I was endlessly grateful for, so I did my best to keep my face as blank as possible and play along. He'd asked who I was, but I didn't have a decent answer ready. Better to just keep my mouth shut. If I let even a flicker of emotion show, I'd only put myself in a worse position.
"I am Daiphon. I have no affiliation with the Rognar Kingdom or the Seintea Imperial Alliance. I belong to the Calderic Overlord Council."
The man introduced himself of his own accord, without waiting for a reply.
"...The Calderic Overlord Council?"
Calderic?
One of RASA's Four Continental Powers, dividing the continent alongside Seintea — the Calderic Overlord Council?
Was this whole situation his doing, too?
The Fist Saint, and now Calderic. What on earth were heavyweights of this caliber doing gathered on a single transport ship? I could only guess that some ugly power struggle had gotten tangled up in all this. But their motives and the politics behind them weren't what mattered right now. What mattered was surviving the next few minutes.
I glanced at his face, reading him, and asked,
"What did you do to the ship?"
The lurching hadn't stopped since earlier. Surely it wasn't going to sink, or anything like—
"If you wish to know the condition of the hull: the transport will not reach Achemon. It will sink shortly."
What, you little shit?
My poker face cracked before I could stop it. I'd just been sentenced to drown in the middle of the ocean — of course my expression crumpled.
"Why would someone of your caliber be aboard this transport as a prisoner?"
I'd like to grab the bastard who dumped me in this game by the collar and ask him the same damn thing, so do me a favor and shut up.
Now what?
My hands and feet were still bound. The ship was about to go under. And sitting in front of me, staring straight at me, was a monster pushing level ninety. From bad to worse — the situation wasn't improving. It was only getting more impossible. What good was staying calm? Was there even a way to walk out of this alive?
A heavy lurch slammed through the hull, worse than before, a warning that time was running out.
And why is he so relaxed?
Even at a level that high, could he really escape the open sea with nothing but his own body? Was land nearby? Then again — he was the one who'd caused all this. He had to have an exit prepared.
Another ship standing by, or maybe a teleport... ah.
The thought carried me to a realization. In this situation, there was only one lifeline I could even hope to grab.
If I can get this robed bastard to help me.
Then at the very least, I might avoid going down with the transport. But the obvious problem was—
As if he'd just help me out of the goodness of his heart.
What reason did he have? His stance toward me right now was unmistakably wary. He couldn't get a read on my strength, so he was being careful, holding back from attacking. And in that situation I was supposed to ask for help — because I couldn't get off the ship, because I couldn't even undo my own restraints? The odds that he'd see through me as a worthless nobody and take my head off on the spot looked a lot higher.
But whatever else was true, he was also the only way out I had left. If I wanted to keep breathing, I had to wring a method out of this somehow. Use the misunderstanding he was carrying around about me, use anything — just find a way off this ship—
"Would you care to accompany me? To Calderic's Grand Lord Castle."
...What?
I looked at him again, careful not to let the blank astonishment show.
"The Grand Lord is one who values ability above all else. Race, origin, the past — none of it matters in the slightest in Calderic. Someone of your caliber would surely be welcomed."
"..."
"Calderic differs from Seintea in a great many ways. There will be far more here to capture your interest than in a land belonging to humans alone."
At some point, he'd even started addressing me as Lord.
What was this guy saying right now?
It was so far off from anything I'd expected that it took me a moment longer to catch the meaning.
...Is this a recruitment pitch?
Was he offering to bring me into his faction? Even granting that he was overestimating me, he was making that offer to a prisoner whose identity he didn't even know?
I realized then that he had gotten something far more deeply wrong than I'd thought. And of course, this was an unbelievably good opportunity. I didn't even have to put on a desperate performance — he had volunteered it himself. Accept the offer, and I could get off this ship before it went under. Except—
The problem is everything that comes after.
What the hell was I, a nobody with no real ability to speak of, supposed to do once I got to Calderic? And what was that about the Grand Lord Castle? He was going to take me to Calderic's Grand Lord in person? I'd be better off sticking my head in a tiger's mouth.
The hull slammed sideways again, harder.
...But there was no other path. Crushed under the wreckage of a collapsing ship, or drowned in the sea — if I didn't take his offer, I was going to die right here. That much was certain.
Better the lesser evil than the worst one.
I'd worry about the consequences later. Surviving the next few minutes came first.
After a fairly long silence, I spoke, my voice low.
"Is that a recruitment offer?"
"It is, of course."
The answer came back without a second's hesitation.
"Calderic, huh..."
I let the word hang there for a beat, then went on.
"You've piqued my interest a little."
Ah, that wasn't it.
I regretted it the instant it left my mouth. Intrigued, my ass. I could've just said yes. I overshot it trying to play it cool.
Still, it seemed I'd landed it safely enough — his previously expressionless face appeared to brighten, just for a moment.
Now how about these restraints.
Couldn't he have the sense to undo these first?
Fortunately, the desperation must have gotten through. He strode into the cell, footsteps echoing off the walls.
A sharp crack rang out. The restraints shattered under some unseen, formless force and clattered to the floor in pieces. Only then did I have my body back.
I snuck a glance at his expression. He didn't seem to find it strange in the slightest. Right. As if anyone would imagine that the man who'd killed the Fist Saint was too much of a weakling to break a few scraps of metal.
"Allow me to introduce myself properly. I am Daiphon Cladinel, of the Calderic Overlord Council's Grand Lord Castle — Chief of Staff, reporting directly to the Grand Lord."
Chief of Staff to the Grand Lord?
No wonder his level was obscenely high.
I finally placed him. I'd been too overwhelmed to put the name together when I first heard it. The Grand Lord's Chief of Staff — her closest aide, a heavyweight whose actual influence rivaled even that of the Nine Lords.
He finished speaking and looked at me steadily. Waiting for my answer. I felt a flicker of awkwardness. How was I supposed to introduce myself when I didn't even know who I was?
After a brief silence, I managed a single short word.
"Ron."
It didn't mean anything. I'd just spat out a suitable name that happened to surface in the moment. I could hardly give my real three-syllable name in a Western-style fantasy world.
It was enough. Fortunately, Daiphon didn't press for more. He simply nodded.
"Ah — and if I may be so bold. Would you permit me to recover the Fist Saint's corpse?"
"...?"
"There is someone who would have a particular use for it. Needless to say, ownership of the corpse belongs to you, Lord Ron."
No, I didn't need that at all. Ownership, over a corpse? And someone out there actually wanted it?
Ah... don't tell me he means Mangjawang.
Either way, it made no difference to me, so I told him to do as he liked. Daiphon offered a brief word of thanks and swept a hand toward the Fist Saint's body. A dark energy surged forth and swallowed the corpse in an instant, leaving not a trace behind.
"Then, Lord Ron — I shall escort you to the Grand Lord Castle at once. I will open a teleportation. Please do not resist the mana."
Daiphon said this and held out his hand. So that's how we were getting out. A teleport after all? Come to think of it, one of the Chief of Staff's abilities had been ultra-long-range teleportation... wait.
...To the Grand Lord Castle. Right now?
I stared at the offered hand with a sour feeling in my gut, then took it and rose to my feet.
A low hum rolled through the air. A muted azure glow gathered, and the space around us began to warp. For a moment I felt my body lift, weightless.
...My stomach lurched. How long had it been? Ten seconds, maybe?
When my vision sharpened again, I was no longer standing in the transport ship's prison. I blinked, hiding my surprise at a landscape that had changed in a single breath.
A dark, cavernous chamber. Enormous stones glowing with blue light were set into the walls on every side, and the light pouring from them pooled at my feet, assembling itself into a geometric figure.
...A magic circle?
I watched it fade, then lifted my head and took in the rest of the room. Never mind the circle — robed figures stood all around us, motionless as statues. We'd only just arrived, and already the atmosphere was like this.
"Lord Daiphon."
A woman, the only one dressed in what looked like a butler's uniform, approached and bowed her head.
"You have worked hard in distant lands. I am relieved you have returned safely."
My eyes went naturally to her sharply pointed ears. An elf?
"The Grand Lord?"
"She is in attendance. The Lord Council will convene shortly."
"I've returned at a rather exquisite moment."
Daiphon muttered this, then continued, addressing the woman who was glancing my way with a look of puzzled curiosity.
"He is a distinguished guest I intend to introduce to the Grand Lord personally. Attend him with the utmost courtesy."
"...!"
She flinched, surprise flashing across her face, then snapped back to a blank expression. Folding one arm, she bowed at the waist with the utmost deference.
"I have committed a discourtesy. My name is Kaylen."
...Things were moving awfully fast. I'd gotten off the transport, and the situation was still barreling along without a pause.
So this is Calderic's Grand Lord Castle, then?
Had we really just crossed that enormous distance from Seintea's territory all the way to Calderic in a single jump? And from here on, I was supposed to stand in front of Calderic's Grand Lord?
It was all exactly what he'd said it would be. But this immediately?
You've got to be kidding me.
I found myself wondering what kind of reaction I'd get from Daiphon if I took it back right now and refused. Unlike the transport ship, this was his home ground — the absolute center of Calderic's power. Would it be too optimistic to hope he'd just laugh it off and let me go?
"Allow me to offer you a sincere welcome to Calderic's Grand Lord Castle, Lord Ron."
Daiphon, who had no way of knowing what I was thinking, just kept saying things that made me want to sigh.
The price of escaping a sinking ship was walking straight into the tiger's den.
Calderic's Grand Lord, Rashatein. A titan who ranked among the very greatest in the entire world of RASA — and she was the one sitting at the head of all this.
Ah... I genuinely had no idea anymore.
Come what may.