Those Who Lost Their Souls (4)

That night, Kant led me to the dining hall. The fairies I'd already gotten to know were waiting there, Aila among them. Rina — the fairy who'd tried to take her own life — wore a gloomy expression, but she had taken her seat all the same.

Kant had prepared a welcome party for me, the Fairy Sanctuary's newest member.

"Everyone. This is Alan Han, who will be working with us at the sanctuary for a while. Please give him a warm round of applause."

A burst of clapping filled the hall as the fairies welcomed me.

Rina, though, didn't clap. She just stared at the floor with that same miserable look on her face.

Among the fairies here, she's the most useful one besides Aila, isn't she?

Most of the fairies assembled in the dining hall were 3-Star or lower. Even Heni, Kant's own fairy, was only 3-Star. Kant himself was 6-Star, yet his fairy sat at 3. He'd probably summoned Heni after he'd already grown strong.

Status window.

Where Aila was 4-Star, Rina was a full 5-Star fairy. Her traits were excellent, her stats and skill levels high. She even held the Fighter class — an advanced class above Warrior.

The one ugly mark on an otherwise outstanding sheet was Soul Loss, a thoroughly vicious trait.

This was the first I'd ever heard of a trait like that. It had never shown up even once in Fairy Masters. And it wasn't just any trait — it was Special grade, second only to Mythic.

Hah... if I'd gotten here any later, I would have lost a real prize.

If I'd arrived two months from now, I never would have seen Rina at all. In sixty days, three of her stats — Wisdom, Magic, and Luck — would all hit zero.

Lady Montblanc — loyalty, loyalty, loyalty!

Sending me to kill Kant the moment I got back to Littleberry... had that been her way of arranging for me to pick up a new fairy?

Finding Rina was a stroke of luck, and a big one. Once she became mine her overall abilities would drop, but even then she'd still be more than worth it.

I'll make her mine the first chance I get.

If I'd had my way, I would have filled Rina's womb with my seed right then and there and claimed her on the spot. But that would put Kant on his guard, so I had to hold back. Taking Rina would have to wait until after I'd killed him, at the very least.

"—lan. Alan!"

"Yes? Ah, you called for me? I apologize."

"Heh heh. What on earth were you thinking about so hard?"

"...Seeing everyone gathered here reminded me of Aquaril."

"Ah..."

The smile dropped right off Kant's face. I'd actually been staring at Rina's status window and practically drooling, but the excuse I'd thrown together on the spot wasn't half ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠bad.

"I'm sorry, Alan. I didn't mean to..."

"Not at all. If anything, I'm grateful. Perhaps the reason I drifted all the way here and met you is because Aquaril is guiding me — wishing I wouldn't grieve any longer."

"Ah...!"

"Thank you, Kant. And thank you, all of you, for being here tonight. Allow me to introduce myself properly. I am Alan Han. A few days ago, I lost my one and only fairy. Aquaril."

The welcome party fell silent in an instant.

Every fairy in that room, Kant's own excluded, had lost a master. Masters and fairies were beings bound together at the soul. Our positions were different — I was a master, they were fairies — but we shared the same wound. We had all lost half of ourselves.

Even Rina, who had been staring at the floor in that same miserable daze, lifted her head and looked at me. Just wait a little longer. I'll be your master.

"I will do everything I can to be of help to all of you. Thank you."

I bowed at the waist, and the dining hall erupted.

"You can do it, Alan!"

The fairies clapped and cheered all over again. And this time, Rina was one of them.

Just wait a little longer, Rina.

Three days had already passed since I'd started working at Kant's Fairy Sanctuary.

In that time I swept the grounds with the fairies and followed Kant into the village for odd jobs, scraping together a little money. And I learned something that genuinely surprised me: the Fairy Sanctuary ran entirely on Kant's own coin. Nobody contributed a single subsidy for fairies who had lost their masters. Not the authorities. Not even the villagers.

The innkeeper had told me this was a close-knit place, the kind of village where neighbors looked after one another. When it came to money, you could search high and low and not find a scrap of that warmth.

I asked Kant once why he devoted himself so completely to fairies who had lost their masters.

"The truth is, I was raised by a fairy when I was young. Her name was Marliang, and she was a mother to me. So whenever I see fairies wasting away after losing their masters, I see her. I can't just look the other way."

The fairy he spoke of — Marliang — had lost her master as well. That master had been Kant's father.

...He's a good man.

Kant really was. Unless someone had an interest in a fairy's body, nobody spared a thought for the ones who'd lost their masters. In a way, that was only natural. People were busy enough staying alive. How many of them were going to go out of their way for someone else — and a fairy, at that?

Which made Kant, who was spending his own money to look after them, a genuinely good person by any measure.

What a shame.

Because unfortunately, I was going to have to kill him. Montblanc had ordered it, and that was not an order I could refuse.

What I couldn't figure out was why he'd been branded a spy in the first place.

Everything I'd seen of Kant up close told me he was the last man alive who would do that kind of work. So why had Leblanc called him a spy? Was there something I still wasn't seeing?

...I don't know.

I'd have to keep watching him a while longer.

Another three days slipped by. I had been in this village for a full week.

She really does just keep stuffing her face, doesn't she.

I clicked my tongue at the windows waiting for me the moment I opened my eyes.

This made six times I had offered Uroboros 3,000 Gems as tribute. All told, I had burned ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠through 18,000 Gems just to keep the class.

Uroboros isn't a snake. She's a pig. A damn pig.

Watching 3,000 Gems vanish every month only sharpened the need to get stronger, and fast. Get strong enough to put that serpent in her place, and the bleeding would finally stop.

Time to get up.

I rose, washed up quickly in the bath, and headed outside. I pulled a broom from the cleaning shed and made for the yard.

"...You're up early again."

"If I want to sweep with you, Loshuka, I have to be."

At that, the beautiful fairy with the gloomy air quietly turned her face away. After the days we'd spent together I could tell she was embarrassed. Look closely and a faint flush had risen to her cheeks.

Loshuka was 3-Star, and her status window had been built in a rather unusual direction.

Most masters raised their fairies to kill monsters more efficiently. Bak Ismail, Loshuka's former master, had raised her as an actual thief — a burglar, not an adventurer.

According to Kant, she and her master had been caught stealing in Kenveli. Loshuka held off the soldiers long enough for him to run, and she was arrested on the spot. Her master fled, and a soldier's arrow took him through the throat.

If Kant hadn't paid her ransom, Loshuka would have gone to the gallows with the rest of the condemned.

"Loshuka. Would you like to go into town with me later and have lunch? The weather's too nice to eat inside today."

"...Just the two of us? You and me?"

"Yes."

I tossed it out casually while we swept, and Loshuka bit her lip. She kept her head down and stole glances at me, gauging my face.

In a manner of speaking, it was a date. The flush in her cheeks had deepened, and that said plainly enough that she wanted to say yes.

"...I'll pass."

"Is that so? A shame."

But the answer was no. It wasn't the first time she'd turned me down, so I wasn't particularly put out.

And it wasn't just Loshuka.

Over the past six days the fairies and I had grown considerably closer. But the moment I asked any of them to eat alone with me, every last one refused.

The reason was simple. They still hadn't forgotten their former masters.

They smiled and went on living, but inside each of them the dead man was still very much alive.

Force it is, then. No other way to make them mine.

I'd been experimenting, wondering if there was some method besides the Temptation skill (Lv. 2 / Mythic) that could turn another master's fairy into my own. There wasn't. Of course there wasn't.

Loshuka and I went ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠back to sweeping in silence. I could feel her watching me from the corner of her eye, worrying that ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠she'd hurt my feelings.

"You're both working hard so early in the morning. Alan, Loshuka."

A low voice came from behind us. I turned. Standing there was the master of the Fairy Sanctuary — and the man who, before long, was going to die by my hand.

"...Good morning, Kant."

"Ah, Kant. Hm? Are you heading out?"

"I am. I have some business."

It was early, but there was nothing ordinary about the way he was dressed. He wore a vest of iron plate over light cloth armor, and a silver mace and a morning star hung at his hip. A backpack stuffed to bursting was slung across his shoulders.

He looked like a man riding out to war.

"Business? I'll come with you. Let me help."

"That's all right. This is something I need to handle on my own. Ah — and I'll be away for a few days, so I'd be grateful if you looked after the sanctuary in my place, Alan."

"What? What's going on?"

"Haha. It's that sort of thing. Anyway, I'm leaving the sanctuary in your hands."

"Ah... all right. I don't know what it's about, but come back safely."

"I'll be off, then."

Kant gave me a short nod and walked out through the sanctuary's front gate.

Do I follow him? Or...

A powerhouse of Kant's caliber didn't walk out in full battle gear for anything ordinary. For all I knew, this was the spy work Montblanc had talked about.

I watched his back recede into the distance, and I couldn't decide.