Moonlit Escape (3)
The moonlit escape stretched on for some time.
Only Dieta’s face was known, so Najin could move with relative freedom. He procured food from nearby villages, confirmed the knights’ routes, and gradually adjusted their path of flight.
It was not especially difficult work.
Though he traveled with the injured Dieta, their circumstances were twice as good as they had been in the underground city. Sometimes they spent the night in the forest; sometimes they hid in an alleyway. And so the escape continued.
Then came the fourth day.
“About that,” Dieta said suddenly, watching Najin strike the mineral lamp he had pulled out in the deep forest.
“That’s a rather unusual mineral lamp, isn’t it?”
“Is it?”
“The ones adventurers carry aren’t this color. The output isn’t this weak, either. Looking at the frame holding the crystal, it almost seems outdated…”
“You know your lamps.”
“They’re goods my trading company handles.”
Dieta shrugged.
“Where did you get it? The light isn’t bad. I might want one myself.”
“It comes from my hometown. Hard to come by. The place is fairly cut off from the outside.”
“So the rangers of the Techel Mountains use things like this?”
“……What?”
Najin blinked.
Dieta smiled brightly, as if to say that no amount of pretending would fool her.
“I know everything. You’re from the Techel Mountains, aren’t you? I thought your skill was too good for chance. With stealth like that, you couldn’t be anything but a ranger. At this point it’s certain—”
“You’ve got the wrong idea.”
“What?”
His tone was firm. It did not feel like a lie.
Dieta blinked. Najin spoke with quiet calm.
“I don’t even know where the Techel Mountains are. And I’m not from anywhere that impressive. Though you’d be surprised if you ever heard the truth…”
Najin let out a long breath.
“I’d rather not say just yet.”
“Is that so?”
“It’s not exactly a good place to be from.”
“You have your reasons, I’m sure.”
Dieta asked no further questions.
It was the same as it had been in Cambria—neither of them digging into the other’s depths, conversation ending of its own accord. Dieta did not dislike this light talk, and yet…
“Hey.”
Perhaps it was the moon shining overhead. Perhaps it was the way they were spending the night deep in the woods, relying on a single mineral lamp. Something about the strange situation pushed Dieta forward. Sitting on a suitable boulder and swinging her legs, she looked at Najin.
Bright yellow eyes fixed on him.
She was not wearing the mask she had taken off. She faced the man before her not as the snake that swallowed gold coins, but simply as Dieta.
“Would you listen to a little of my story?”
Dieta stepped into the space after the broken conversation.
Sleep had not yet come, the night was deep, and she wanted to talk a little longer.
2.
The snake that swallowed gold coins—Dieta.
She had never poured out her story to anyone. Of course she hadn’t. To her, everything in the world was simply an enemy, and telling her own story was no different from advertising her weaknesses.
It was a kind of defense mechanism.
The wound of a child who had been forced to grow up too soon.
She had to be thorough to survive. She could trust no one. She had to use everything. And so Dieta had worn her mask and never once revealed herself. She had been that way since her seventh birthday.
The snake who had lived that way for so long
took off her mask, set everything down, and began to speak of herself. In the deep night beneath a risen moon, before a mineral lamp that glowed with the soft light of sunset, Dieta talked about her life.
“That’s how I lived,” she said.
“That’s how I’ve lived. Honestly, I have no regrets. Climbing higher means trampling someone else, doesn’t it? I don’t regret that fact… but.”
She smiled as she looked at the dim mineral lamp.
“When you wear a mask, hide yourself, and live that way for long enough, you start to wonder sometimes.”
The smile was bitter,
and a little sad.
“If I do this… where am I?”
“Last time, you asked me what my goal was. When I said it was collecting gold coins, you asked again—what would I do with them once I had them?”
“I did.”
“Back then I dodged it by saying I’d raise my value.”
Dieta brushed her hair back.
“The truth is, my goal was revenge.”
“I see.”
“Yes. Swallow a mountain of gold coins, raise my value higher and higher… until I became a snake large enough to devour even a ducal house. That was my goal.”
Najin simply listened.
It did not seem like she was speaking because she wanted answers.
“I thought if I swallowed the ducal house and crushed it underfoot, I would be compensated.”
“For what?”
“For the time I had to live wearing a mask. For everything I had to endure. The moments I laughed off, piled up, and simply had to swallow. I thought those years would be repaid.”
It’s stupid, isn’t it, Dieta murmured.
“Even if I crush the ducal house, those years won’t come back…”
She let out a long breath and looked up at the sky. The moon hanging in the night. The same moon she had looked up at so many times from the ducal villa. She smiled bitterly as she watched it.
“It’s stupid, isn’t it? Really?”
“Why would that be stupid?”
“……What?”
Dieta lowered her gaze.
There, shining with the same sunset light as the mineral lamp, Najin’s eyes looked straight at her.
“People say revenge is foolish. That you get nothing back for it. That’s all nonsense. Why wouldn’t you get something back?”
Najin gave a short, dry laugh.
“Endure it, break the cycle of hatred—what the hell is any of that even supposed to mean? Doing that doesn’t wrap up a shit past in a pretty package.”
The words that came out were rough.
The hunting dog who had lived in the underground city began to spit raw language.
“Even if there’s nothing to gain, you’ll feel better after you get revenge, won’t you? Isn’t that reason enough?”
Najin lowered his gaze.
It fell on the mineral lamp holding the light of sunset. A flicker of bitterness passed through his eyes. Just as the moonlit night stirred Dieta’s past, for Najin the artificial sunset glow of this lamp did the same.
“I’m the same. There’s someone I have to climb high enough that no one can ignore me… and take revenge on.”
The Holy Light Church.
He swallowed the name and spoke.
“Because only then do I feel like I can move on.”
“Move on…?”
“Whether I smash them, burn them all, or grind them underfoot… I have to settle it cleanly, one way or another, before I can go any further.”
Move on. Next.
Dieta suddenly looked at herself. She had never once thought about what came after growing large enough to swallow the ducal house.
“Next… I don’t really know yet.”
“You don’t have to overthink it.”
Najin looked at her.
“You don’t always have to wear the mask, do you? Sometimes take a breath. Do the things you want. Get angry if you feel like getting angry. Live like that and it’ll come to you on its own—what you want to do next, at least.”
Najin smiled.
“That’s how it was for me.”
The two who resembled each other faced one another.
Following Najin’s lead, Dieta smiled back.
“It looks good on you. You should smile more often.”
“I—is that so?”
“Why are you stuttering?”
“You said it looks good…”
“What?”
“……Nothing.”
Haa, Dieta breathed out at length.
She stretched luxuriously, letting the tension drain from her shoulders. Then she spoke as if tossing the words away.
“I think… I’m a little happy right now.”
“Doesn’t quite fit the situation.”
“Even so.”
Which is why, Dieta said,
“What’s your name?”
“…….”
“If it’s awkward, you don’t have to say. I just… wanted to know your name, at least.”
No one had ordered her to, yet Dieta had laid bare her insides and her weaknesses. She had taken off her mask and revealed everything honestly. Faced with that question, Najin hesitated only a moment. The hesitation was not long.
Hiding behind his own mask alone would be cheap, he decided.
“Well, if you really don’t want to ans—”
“Najin.”
Najin spoke.
“Najin. That’s my name.”
Dieta rolled the name around in her mouth, then smiled brightly. She held out her hand toward him. Clasping his hand, she said,
“Thank you, Najin.”
And then,
“I’ll be counting on you. From now on, too.”
3.
On the fifth day, the end of the chase was in sight.
Far ahead, the territory of House Trevache came into view.
Once they crossed that gate, the pursuit would end. No matter that they were knights of a ducal house—they could not simply rampage through a marquis’s domain at will.
“How’s the ankle?”
“One of them’s a little better.”
Dieta limped as she walked.
Thanks to every potion they had managed to buy in the village, she could put weight on one foot. She still dragged it, and every step hurt, but she chose to find meaning in the fact that she could stand at all.
“Then let’s go.”
Najin lifted Dieta onto his back and started moving.
The steps did not last long. After only a few strides, Najin slowly came to a halt.
Someone was blocking the road.
The only path leading into the marquis’s territory. Standing across it was a single knight in armor engraved with the crest of the Arvenia Ducal Family. He stood as if he had known they would come this way.
“I have come to escort you, Lady Dieta.”
He spoke.
From her place on Najin’s back, Dieta’s eyes wavered as she looked at him. She knew who he was.
“Sir Griffin.”
Knight Commander of the Arvenia Ducal Family. A powerhouse of the Sword Seeker rank, the sharpest blade of Arvenia. Dieta swallowed hard and touched Najin’s shoulder.
Najin lowered himself and set her down.
Clinging to his arm for balance, Dieta planted her feet and looked straight at Griffin, who barred the road. This was one of the worst outcomes she had imagined. She had every right to panic—yet the tremor in her eyes settled almost at once.
“So even the Commander has been dispatched.”
“His Grace holds the young lady in high regard. Return with us.”
“And if I refuse?”
“You already know.”
Griffin rested a hand on his sword hilt. Dieta let out a long sigh and looked at Najin. They had already discussed this possibility.
Knight Commander Griffin.
He’s a Sword Seeker. Of all the knights who might be sent after us, he’s the only one who can completely overpower you. There are three other Sword Seekers, but they won’t have been committed to this chase.
In the deep forest after sunset.
If you ever come face-to-face with Griffin…
Leave me and go to the destination. Having me would make persuasion easier, but it can be done without me.
I’ll buy time.
That was what Dieta had said.
Even Najin could not hope to win against a Sword Seeker. From her perspective it was the only rational judgment.
She did not want him to die.
“…Go.”
She whispered it and released Najin’s arm. Then she took a step forward—ready to work her silver tongue against Griffin and buy at least a little time.
“I’ll do that. But I have a condition.”
“I hope you understand this is not a situation in which you can demand conditions.”
“Then call it advice instead of a condition.”
Dieta pointed at Najin standing behind her.
“This man is the escort I hired in Cambria. He only moved according to the terms of the contract. Any problems that arose in the process are Cambria’s responsibility to settle.”
“…….”
“So let him go.”
“That is impossib—”
“The Knight Commander of a ducal house murders a red-rank adventurer of Cambria. And does it near the territory of Marquis Trevache, who runs the Cambria Foundation.”
Dieta’s lips curved upward.
Before anyone noticed, she had put the mask back on.
As the snake that swallowed gold coins, she narrowed her eyes.
“Can you handle that, Commander?”
“That man is a criminal. He invaded the ducal house—”
“You never publicized that fact. And the ducal house itself is hardly in a position to claim clean hands, is it?”
As she spoke, Dieta gestured.
A signal for Najin to run at once.
But Najin did not move. Dieta was trying to buy a little more time, masking her anxiety, when—
Thud.
Najin caught her by the shoulder.
Dieta flinched and looked back. There stood Najin, quietly watching her. Meeting his eyes, a memory rose unbidden.
I’ll buy time.
You run.
When she had said that, what had Najin answered? He had said nothing. He had only looked at her with the same eyes he wore now.
Thump.
Najin pushed Dieta behind him and stepped forward. The meaning of the motion was simple. Standing in front of her, he pointed toward the road leading into the marquis’s territory.
“Go on ahead.”
Najin said.
“I’ll buy the time.”
Dieta’s eyes wavered.
They wavered—but she quickly understood that Najin would never change his mind. In that case, there was only one thing left for her to do.
“Don’t die.”
Gritting her teeth, Dieta began to walk.
Dragging one leg, she set out. She was giving it everything she had, yet the steps were slow. Reaching the marquis’s gate would take a long time.
“…Hah.”
Griffin exhaled as he watched. What farce was this? He started to take a step after the limping Dieta—
Clang!
A chill raced up his spine.
Griffin snapped his head around.
There stood Najin with his sword drawn. In an instant, pure white aura bloomed along the blade. Najin leveled the aura-wreathed sword at Griffin.
If you take even a single step.
I will cut you down where you stand. That was the sharp killing intent the stance declared. Griffin narrowed his eyes. Judging by the form of the aura, the man was a Sword Expert.
A martial artist of a lower realm than himself.
Someone he could break with ease if he set his mind to it—yet the will behind the blade could not be ignored. He would not yield. He would buy time even if he had to clamp onto an ankle and refuse to let go. That fierce resolve radiated from the man.
“…….”
Without a word, Griffin drew his own sword. He looked not at the fleeing Dieta, but at Najin. It was a gesture of respect for the will the man had shown.
“I will not ask your name.”
What rose along the blade he had drawn was aura given form—the exclusive domain of a Sword Seeker, one step beyond mere aura.
“His Grace has commanded: secure Lady Dieta’s person, and kill the one who aided her flight.”
He declared it.
“I am the sword of Arvenia, a knight who obeys the Duke’s command. In carrying out a mission, the target’s identity is of no importance. Therefore I do not care who you are.”
Whether he was a titled noble,
or a celebrity of the adventurers’ city,
or some great figure who must not be killed—
“His Grace has ordered your death, and I will simply obey that order.”
That was not a matter for him to concern himself with.
The Duke had commanded,
and he would obey.
That was the loyalty Griffin spoke of.
“Even so, I say this
out of respect for your choice.”
Griffin leveled his sword at Najin.
The only difference was the object of their devotion.
Had he been Dieta’s knight, he would have done the same. The man before him was of unknown identity—whether he was even a knight at all was unclear—yet what he had shown was the nobility a knight ought to possess. Griffin respected that nobility.
Najin quietly raised his sword.
He had no intention of denying the knight before him. Offering unlimited loyalty to one’s lord—that, too, was a kind of knighthood. Following a master’s command while setting aside all judgment of right and wrong, all personal values—he would not deny a knight who called that loyalty.
It was the man’s conviction.
Even so, he raised his sword.
Simply because
Najin, too, had a line he could not cross. Dieta had asked him to get her out of that villa, and Najin had an obligation to fulfill that request.
He had promised.
And in that promise there was no room for compromise.
Simple as it was, that was the whole of Najin’s reason for challenging a Sword Seeker.