Because It's Not a Story (5)
"What can I say, the punishment is lighter than I expected."
"Those brimming with hot blood often come to blows over nothing more than a difference of opinion. Drunken brawls are much the same. It is only because the two of you possess such formidable power that the affair looks so large; in essence, it is nothing uncommon."
"True enough."
"So, do incidents like this normally end this way?"
"For the most part, yes. Since it is a matter between two people, once they reach an agreement no separate punishment is levied. Of course, when a third party is swept up and suffers harm, the matter often proceeds to formal punishment—yet even then a good settlement can let it pass."
As I listened to the continuing exchange, I lowered my eyes.
It was because I had learned that the Archmage had not only spoken in our defense but had even shouldered part of the compensation himself.
Of course I had volunteered to pay as well. I refused to dodge my own fault, and my character possessed pride, so I put up a full three million gals of my own accord.
Yet the Archmage, who had not even been a party to the fight, paid two million gals. On the grounds that he was at fault for failing to restrain his companions.
For someone like me—treated as an adult for more than a decade precisely because I was of an age to answer for myself—it was enough to draw a silent scream.
Archmage. You… you really are…!
"Come, let us leave at once. Better than a prison cell, true, yet there is nothing pleasant about lingering too long in the guardhouse interrogation room."
I may not have wished for any of it, but I had caused trouble all the same—not merely a waste of time, but financial damage as well.
So if I still possessed any sense of shame, the only proper course was to shut my mouth and follow.
I obediently trailed after the Archmage. With the whole party moving together, it did not stand out overmuch.
"Ugh, investigations really do take forever."
"Unexpected. I thought a fellow like you would know all about such things."
"Why would you assume I know the guards' business so well?"
"Because you've probably been hauled in before?"
"What was that, you bookworm?"
"Ahahaha! The outside air is so refreshing!"
Hoo, fine. For the next few days, within the limits my concept will allow, I shall have to play the Archmage's dog. If someone asks whether I am already a son of a bitch, I have little enough to say in reply—yet still.
"Heh heh. More than that, the sun is already about to set."
Meanwhile, the moment we stepped free of the guardhouse, evening light unfurled across the sky. The Archmage's words were true.
We had only been briefly questioned, yet the sun was already sinking.
"We had best take our meal soon."
"Ah, so it is. Dinner hour is almost upon us."
"Going to eat? Good. Berserk has been hungry for a while. The little friend needs food too."
"Did you call me?"
"At this hour I doubt anything but the taverns are open. Should we not be heading to the temple?"
The temple, though? The temple felt a little awkward.
I thought of the people who had come all the way down to the lower city because of my fight with Berserk, only to turn around and climb back to the upper city empty-handed.
They had merely rushed over against the chance of disaster, and since there had been nothing for them to do, there was no real need to offer them payment.
Yet because of the work the temple performs in this world, it left me with the vague sensation of having dialed emergency services only to say, "Ah, we handled it ourselves," and send them home again…
Ah, the price of playing for fun is this steep. From now on I absolutely must not fight inside a town.
"No… there is no need for that here."
In the meantime the Archmage cast his gaze about the surroundings. At the same moment, the streetlamps standing along the road flared to life.
"This place is rather bright even at night."
"…It is beautiful."
"Whoa. Wow."
"It got bright!"
"The stars have come down to the earth…."
It was magic. To someone from the modern world it was no more than ordinary streetlights switching on.
No—more than that, have you people not already spent several days here? I may have charged out on the very first day and never properly seen it, but the rest of you had every chance.
"Had I known it would be like this, I would have come out at night at least once."
I had been wondering, but those words made it clear enough.
Just as they had in other cities, once the sun set they must have shut themselves inside the buildings. Truly, every last one of them is needlessly principled. I never expected even Dev to be the same.
"Little friend, look at that. The lamps are moving!"
"W-wooooow."
"Dear me. Had I known you would take such delight in it, I would have told you earlier and brought you out."
Berserk, with Akata perched on her shoulders, bolted ahead.
It was a little irritating that the very same person who had caused just as much trouble as I had could now look so carefree and radiant, yet at the same time it was so very like Berserk that a laugh escaped me.
Even the point that her mental age seemed strangely close to Akata's.
"Do not go too far. That way lies the craftsmen's street!"
"Craftsmen's street?"
"Yes. The artisans gather there for the most part. There are shops selling craftwork as well, so there is a fair amount to see."
I see. Then if I have time left tomorrow, I might come here. Staring at a canvas all day long would grow tedious; a little window-shopping would do.
With that thought I watched Berserk continue to race ahead. No matter how one looked at it, she had not heard a word the Archmage said.
"Uh, Mage-nim. The warrior-nim has already carried the kid way over there."
"Hm? Dear me…."
Instead of me—who had noticed yet kept silent—Dev pointed it out. Confirming the truth of it, the Archmage pressed a hand to his forehead.
"We had best chase after them. I fear they may cause another incident."
My chest pricked with a fresh twinge of guilt for no good reason.
"Does the little friend like such things?"
"In foreign lands they use threads of such lovely colors."
Fortunately, Berserk had not gone far.
Or rather, should I say Akata's interest in something had caught her ankle?
At any rate, we overtook them without mishap.
The place they had entered was a shop with clothes, cloth, and thread piled high inside.
"What were you thinking, rushing off so suddenly?"
"Ah, Mage."
The building was not especially large, and I felt awkward about going in, so I remained outside.
Meanwhile the two dumplings, curious about the place where clothes were made, craned their necks to peer inside.
"Hmm. I have heard there exists fabric so sheer one can see a face through it; I had hoped to examine some, yet I see none here."
"What on earth are you looking for? Fabric like that would never be sold in a place like this. This shop caters to ordinary folk."
"Is that silk, then?"
"Yes."
"Then why is silk not sold where ordinary people shop?"
"Because it is expensive. Only humans with a great deal of money ever buy silk."
"I see…."
While we were at it, a little social studies lesson as well.
"Were you buying thread for the child?"
"No. I meant to, but the child refused."
"Is that so. I am told she wished to buy you thread; is it true that you refused?"
"Ah… yes. It is not something I want so badly that I must buy it, and I no longer wish to be further indebted. I only thought, 'So foreign lands have thread like this too.'"
"You need not count even this as a debt… yet if that is how you feel, so be it. Will you look a little longer?"
More than that, what was Akata staring at so intently? I carefully observed the thread the child was examining. It was thread dyed a deep red.
Considering the thread bracelet she had made before, did she simply like such things?
"No, I am fine."
I watched her set down the thread she had been fingering.
"Farewell."
"We enjoyed looking around. Sell much."
And as everyone filed out, my gaze brushed for a moment against the shop's signboard.
"Then let us go and eat."
I wonder what time this place opens in the morning…
"Berserk wants a place with good liquor!"
"That is just a tavern."
"I do not particularly mind a tavern either, but…."
"No. Taverns only serve meat dishes."
After committing the surrounding scenery perfectly to memory, I carefully followed after the party.
"…Let us go somewhere that serves fish dishes. Hudelen is rather famous for its freshwater fish cuisine; it will not be bad."
"Oh."
"Fish does not have much of a chew to it."
"Meat is meat. The warrior-nim can yield this once."
We are going to eat freshwater fish dishes; will that be all right?
"I do not mind."
In the midst of it all, tonight's dinner had been settled as fish. Not a bad choice. Freshwater fish might reek, but every dish in this world already did.
"Whoa. Once we enter the restaurant district the crowds are insane."
"Even though the sky has gone black, so many people can still walk about… Magic truly is mysterious. I wish more of these were installed."
"Well. The installation cost is still quite high; I am not certain it will be possible."
More than that, there really are a lot of people here. I took care not to lose the party amid the throng.
"Hey, that place tastes terrible."
"I was wrong, I will never look at another person again. I mean it."
"Once you get old, nothing else matters; the worst part is when you lose your appetite and cannot force the food down."
"Pasha!"
Then, suddenly, amid the clamor rising from every direction, I found myself recalling the world I had originally lived in, along much the same path as that morning. My eyelids drooped.
"Nim, this is the place!"
"So many people…."
"Do you think it will taste good?"
"With this many customers, it can hardly taste bad."
"Meat!!"
Yet when I opened my eyes again, at least the weight I lifted was not one of sorrow.
That was enough.
I can still endure more.
Deathbringer had been dozing off atop a rooftop when a sound brought his eyes open with a snap.
When he quickly strained his ears, he caught footsteps quieter than those of ordinary people, and perfectly even in stride. They belonged to a trained warrior.
And of the people staying at their lodgings, there were only two warriors.
Berserk, because of her build, produced a rougher, heavier sound. Besides, she had risen before dawn and gone out to train; it could not be her.
Therefore the sound could only belong to the Demon Knight.
Deathbringer flattened himself low. To tail someone whose senses were so sharp required even more care than usual.
Guilt over shadowing a companion? The moment he became certain the Demon Knight would not harm himself when alone, he would stop. Until then, he would not leave the man by himself.
It was the only thing he could do.
Of course, if he were caught, the Demon Knight would grow extremely… extremely angry, yet Deathbringer chose to believe the man would not kill him. He had a surprisingly generous side, after all.
…He really would not kill him, right?
Clinging to that shaky faith, Deathbringer quickened his pace. Dawn was only just breaking, so the streets held few people. He would have to use every obstacle carefully if he wished to remain unseen by that keen knight.
"I thought I saw that kid from yesterday."
"What?"
"…Never mind. Just my imagination. More importantly, are you ready?"
"Y-yeah."
Fortunately this city was relatively easy to tail people in. He stepped across the inn roof and carefully leapt to the next building.
"That tickles!"
"Haha, sorry."
In the process he overheard every sort of conversation—traveling groups chatting, a couple confirming their love first thing in the morning—yet that was the work he had always done, so he felt little guilt.
If they hated their words leaking out, they should have bought a house with proper soundproofing.
"Hm?"
At any rate the tailing proceeded smoothly. He followed without being noticed right up to the moment the Demon Knight stepped into the craftsmen's street.
"His sword shouldn't be broken yet…."
Yet being unseen and being free of questions were two different things.
He wondered whether the Demon Knight had come to replace his sword. Considering the man's track record of shattering one every month, it would not have been strange.
"Being a mana-user isn't all good, huh."
At first he had wondered why the man broke them so often, but now he knew, having heard it from a mage of the Magic Tower.
It was not the Demon Knight's fault that the swords shattered; it was the nature of his mana.
In short, because it possessed the property of unraveling the binding structure of matter. Unlike a body capable of self-recovery, substances such as iron could not be restored, and so they eventually broke.
Of course he had also been told that ordinary mana-users did not shatter a blade every month; the Demon Knight's mana was simply too overwhelming.
Either way, from the Demon Knight's perspective it was an unavoidably troublesome structure.
"…Wait."
And at that thought a new question arrived.
"Then what in the world is that zweihander of his made of…?"
The mage had clearly said that once mana had weakened the binding structure, not even magic could reverse it. Restoration spells were useless.
So how had that sword endured until now?
What on earth was it made of?
"Don't tell me that one is made of dragon scales too…."
The thought even crossed his mind that perhaps that was why the man had so readily gifted dragon scales to him and the bookworm. Of course that was impossible. This was the first time a dragon had been slain.
…Probably.
With the Demon Knight it would not have been strange if he had already taken down one or two Ancient Beasts before meeting them, yet surely not.
Clunk.
At that moment the Demon Knight entered a certain building. Deathbringer's thoughts, which had wandered far off course, snapped back into place.
"Ah, what might you be looking to purchase—"
"Yesterday, the six-armed child looked at some threads. I want to buy them."
The shop the Demon Knight had entered was the very one where Berserk and the child had been found the day before.
"She looked at several… which ones in particular…?"
"All of them."
Ah. So he had come out to buy thread.
Deathbringer finally released the tension he had kept coiled just in case.
The Demon Knight truly had a talent for making people anxious for no reason—despite how strong he was.
"I will buy them all."
Yet in the end, that was probably because he was a kind enough person that others found themselves wanting to worry over him.
If he had truly been mad only for hunting demons, trampling others and living without mercy, people might have praised the Demon Knight but never treated him as a fellow human being.
"Did I stay up all night outside for nothing…."
All his various assumptions had been wasted; the Demon Knight had not gone out to harm himself but for someone else's sake.
Feeling sheepish at that fact, Deathbringer turned on his heel. He meant to return to the temple before the Demon Knight did.
He had not slept properly at night, so a nap would not hurt either.
"Huh?"
Someone had called to him.
It was a figure with a white-and-blue snake coiled about the neck, draped in layer upon layer of silver silk that called to mind fish scales.
"What are you—"
A face he had never seen in his life, and already speaking of potential from the first meeting—it did not feel particularly pleasant.
Thinking that some strange bastard had attached himself, Deathbringer made to turn away again.
Ssrrk.
Yet before he knew it the other stood right beside him.
The tongue, split like a snake's, was truly black—utterly different from the pure-white exterior.
Vmmm.
The dark sword he kept at his side began to tremble faintly. In the sky above, it almost seemed as though a whale that should never have been there was visible.