Chapter 17
Inside the enormous magic circle, all the knights had gathered. I tried my best to ignore Kal's piercing gaze fixed on me from amid the group.
"We'll teleport right away."
The robed mages began pooling their mana. I could feel it condensing around us.
"Teleport!"
A fierce wind whipped up as space twisted. Along with the nauseating sensation unique to spatial movement, I opened my eyes to see a dense forest.
I quickly scanned for any dangers nearby, then turned to Parve.
"Where is this?"
"It's a mountain in the Trasu region. If we move diligently today, we can camp at Harten Mountain."
We'd set out from the Trasu region in the early afternoon, but it was already evening by the time we reached Harten Mountain. From around Harten Mountain onward, the influence of the northern cold front made the temperature drop sharply.
I pulled a fur-lined black cloak from my subspace pouch and put it on. Aside from Kal muttering about whether I only owned black clothes, the journey passed without incident.
"It'd be best to camp here."
As the sun began dipping behind the ridgeline, Parve surveyed the area and selected a campsite. I furrowed my brow and looked around.
The ground itself seemed fine, but...
I checked the surrounding leaves and grimaced.
"Wouldn't it be better to move a bit farther before setting up camp?"
"Hm? Is there a reason?"
Parve asked with a puzzled expression. Kal turned to look at me as well. The knights focused their attention on me.
"If you look closely, the leaves on the trees around us have a faint reddish tint."
"You're right..."
"Kipira, the magic beasts most common around Harten Mountain, frequent areas where the leaves turn red like this."
The people gaped in shock, their faces paling as if they'd heard a ghost story. It made sense they didn't know—such minute details were only familiar to long-time mercenaries like me who'd spent years hunting magic beasts.
Kipira were nocturnal pack hunters. Every time they flapped their wings, they scattered red hallucinogenic powder, which turned the leaves red in their habitats.
Kipira are easy enough to deal with... But there was no need to invite unnecessary trouble.
"The tint is faint, so we're probably not too close to their main habitat. A little farther and we should be clear of it."
I stood up in my saddle, plucked a leaf, and fiddled with it. The group's sharp stares turned toward me. I blinked awkwardly.
"Uh... was that too presumptuous of me?"
"No, not at all. It sounds like a good idea. It's just... even though I studied magic beasts extensively before this subjugation, this is the first I've heard of it. You're remarkably knowledgeable."
"It's hard to learn without hands-on experience. It's my job, so of course."
I replied calmly and lightly tugged the reins.
"Let's go a bit farther. A suitable spot should come up soon."
About ten minutes later, we reached a flat clearing where the leaves looked normal. There were few rocks around, so no snake-type magic beasts either. We helped the knights pitch their tents there.
They got flustered whenever I approached to assist, which was a bit awkward. After placing items that popped out one by one from my unlimited subspace pouch, the surroundings had already grown dim.
A bonfire was lit at the center of the campsite. I sat on a lone rock away from the group, staring blankly at the flames.
"Eat up."
"Ah, thank you."
I'd been watching the knights get their rations from afar when Kal strode over and handed me a bowl of stew. Seeing the soup bowl in his hand as he plopped down casually beside me, I asked hesitantly,
"...You eat this too, Young Master?"
"Did you think I couldn't slice a steak on my own?"
Honestly, I had. Every noble I'd seen acted like they'd drop dead eating the same food as commoners—pufferfish-level snobs.
Reading the subtle agreement on my face, Kal sighed.
"I don't know what kind of monster you think I am, but I'm not so spoiled as to indulge in luxury alone while camping."
In the original story, you were that spoiled monster...
I let my lips droop as I recalled the original Kal's atrocities. I was trying to ignore the massive gap while working, but no matter how I thought about it, this Kal was nothing like the original.
His attitude toward people, too. It doesn't make sense that this psycho hasn't done a single psycho thing yet.
After hearing he'd join the subjugation, I'd figured there was no way I'd return unscathed. But this was way off my expectations.
If Kal hasn't gone mad, that's a relief, but...
"Are you a mercenary or a scholar? You've been lost in thought all day."
"...Ah."
Kal's sarcasm snapped me back. His face was still impassive, but there was a faint gruffness to it.
"Are you bored?"
"Do I look like a five-year-old kid to you?"
When I asked just to be sure, he bristled and snapped back fiercely.
He looks like a sulky kid mad I won't play with him...
Only then did I realize Kal wanted to talk. It was such a fresh, boyish action I never imagined from him.
Well, he's only just turned nineteen now.
I suddenly realized it anew. Kal was my brother, but at only nineteen years lived, he couldn't possibly be more mature than me—with my past life memories making it nearly fifty years total.
The original Kal, who drove everyone insane at the drop of a hat, had been the anomaly. A normal nineteen-year-old should act like this.
"Of course not. It's just that I'm pretty bored... If it's alright, would you keep me company, Young Master? Is there anything you're curious about?"
I set aside my worries and figured I should spend time with my newly met brother. I put down my bowl and turned to Kal.
The bonfire burned steadily. The chill of the winter night air. The soft, tickling scent of Kal's body. Away from the group, the surroundings were quiet save for the distant chatter.
Uncharacteristically relaxed, I let my tension ease.
"...So how'd you end up a mercenary?"
Kal asked slowly, a hint of languor in his voice. There was no prying intent, no probing for my identity, so I suddenly found myself thinking purely about why I'd really become one.
"For money."
No need to overthink. It was simple.
"I wanted to protect what I love. I didn't want to lose it. Turns out, all I could do was earn money."
My heart ached anew. I'd thrashed endlessly in that horrific helplessness and self-loathing as my loved one faded. I'd given meaning to those futile struggles—for Aria—and that meaning kept me alive.
At least when I swung my sword, I could truly feel I was stubbornly clinging to life under the heavens, that I had a reason to live.
"I guess I made this my reason to live."
Yeah. I'd turned spilling blood for Aria into my reason for living.
Maybe the name Mir—stained black with blood—had kept me going.
"I see."
His calm affirmation came back. No misunderstanding, no excessive empathy—just pure neutrality.
In Kal's attitude—affirming another's life he couldn't understand and had no business trying to—I felt at ease. A comfortable silence followed.
"You started mercenary work to make money."
"...Yes."
"Then why'd you become a hero?"
Yeah, why did I become a hero?
I slowly closed my eyes. How nice it would be if I could just brush off this unprofitable nonsense.
"Because I know how agonizing loss is."
One face flashed through my mind. My radiant ideal. The one I'd lost. Just recalling it felt like something inside me crumbled.
I met Kal's eyes, suppressing my sorrow.
I was terribly afraid of losing what was precious. Because I'd felt loss before—mourned the departed, endlessly regretted the past—I'd suffered that pain.
No one can fill another's empty space. An empty spot remains forever empty; what's filled is a different space.
Losing something precious is like carving an irreplaceable blank into your life.
Knowing that, I didn't want others to suffer loss.
"All those people dying pointlessly to magic beasts—they're precious to someone. I didn't want to see anyone lose the one they love."
Kal's eyes flickered at my answer. His gaze was like he was seeing something bizarre.
After a long pause, thinking deeply, he spoke slowly.
"...What’s a life with someone you love that much like?"
His voice dripped with utter ignorance. He didn't know love. Kal was just that kind of person. He didn't know it, didn't seek to, didn't need it. Born that way.
So it was profoundly strange for him to ask me about love.
I slowly reflected on my life. The fierce existence driven by the vow to save Aria. The efforts to keep her from vanishing into the snowy wastes like that person. Moments when love and life itself felt burdensome.
I shook off the thoughts and spoke calmly.
"Despairing."
"Despairing?"
"Yes. Utterly, terribly despairing. Grueling. Overwhelming. So painful you think it would’ve been better never to love. Loss... terrifies me."
My love was always pitch-black, roiling like mud. The color of my aura.
"But... that despair keeps you going."
Despair drives people to death—and kills many—but some find life's meaning on death's doorstep. Poison and medicine are always a hair's breadth apart.
"Clutching that despair desperately, somehow surviving... and then..."
"You inevitably find yourself happy."
Enduring despair brings moments where mere survival feels unbearably joyful. Happiness possible only because you didn't die.
"That's just how it is."
Realizing I'd said too much pointless stuff, I hurriedly wrapped up.
Kal was silent for a long while. His expression unreadable, I worried I'd irked him when he finally spoke.
"Fascinating."
Meeting my eyes, he smiled slowly.
"I want to meet someone who'd love me that much, too—and love them back just as fiercely."
This might've been the moment. When Kal Crisis began to love his sister, Kashmir Crisis.