Because It's Not a Story (6)
“Where have you been?”
I returned to the temple the moment I finished buying the thread.
Because the shop sat on the lower levels, the round trip took only an hour, and my plan of slipping out unnoticed collapsed before it ever had a chance.
The Archmage was sipping tea in the combined dining room and living room.
—Who’s there?
A sphere like a polished orb rested in front of her; some sort of communication device, no doubt. White Wind’s voice spilled from it.
“It’s the Demon Knight. No need for concern.”
—Ah. Busy already, first thing in the morning.
I had braced myself for an interrogation, yet the matter slid past with surprising ease. Surprising if it was surprising; ordinary if it wasn’t.
After all, grilling someone over where they went on a holiday morning was hardly universal practice. Yesterday’s incident and a few other peculiarities had simply made me flinch first.
I crossed the living room without letting any of that show. The lodgings were laid out like an ordinary house—rooms branching off a central living space—so there was no other path to my door.
—Anyway, let me finish. Those magic-eating snakes we sent ahead this time…
That particular topic was harder to walk away from.
The moment Jahukaya came up, I stopped with my hand already on the door. Anything that might brush against demons was the sort of conversation I couldn’t simply ignore and leave behind.
The Archmage noticed. Without a word she pointed to an empty chair.
Clink.
—Bottom line: nothing unusual has turned up so far.
Instead of refusing, I sat where she indicated.
—There are only four of them, and everyone’s handling them like glass, so we haven’t even managed a proper experiment yet.
Even though a pot of tea already sat ready, the Archmage set fresh water to boil. Dry leaves sank one after another into the rising heat.
The color steeping into the water was different; she must have chosen a different leaf.
—All we’ve learned is that they eat mana fixed in empty space the way a barrier is fixed—mana that isn’t bound into matter. And that within a certain range they can sense where mana is, whether it’s stored in something or not, and head straight for it.
White Wind chattered on without pause.
—Oh, and the one we caught last time still carried residual demon energy. These ones don’t. After watching them a few days, it doesn’t look like they ever held demon energy to begin with. Whether they can convert demon energy into mana is still an open question.
It was the sort of report that made me wonder why I’d bothered sitting down. From our perspective it yielded almost nothing.
If they didn’t carry demon energy, there was no special reason to chase them. Eating mana was a problem the mages could solve on their own.
“Not every creature born in a nest of dense mana ends up carrying demon energy. That much, at least, is fortunate.”
—What good is that? They almost all have the mana-eating ability. We’re going to die at this rate.
“Which is precisely why we are working so hard to prevent that outcome. It will be fine.”
—Aaaaargh, this suuucks.
For that reason I simply watched the tea deepen in color. Whether White Wind whined or not was none of my concern, and there was little else to look at, so my gaze stayed fixed there.
Yet the fragrance rising from the cup was strangely familiar—almost exactly like the tea I preferred.
“Well done. Any word yet from the Great Forest?”
—Still en route to Jatav territory, so no reports have come in. Sangun did pass along a few things, though… He himself is carrying demon energy. Says it feels unpleasant, so he’s converted every last scrap of it into mana already.
“Disgusted by his own origin. That is curious in its own way.”
—Probably because he wasn’t born inside mana that had fully turned into demon energy. He absorbed all the ancient mana around him when he hatched, and it was thinner than true demon energy.
I found myself wondering whether it was pure coincidence that she had chosen, of all leaves, the one I particularly liked, when a perfectly good pot had already been ready.
Had it shown on my face? There was no reason the Archmage would go out of her way to match my tastes.
“…If that is the case, it may also explain why the Jahukaya never developed demon energy. Whether a creature is born with it or not depends on how far the mana has corrupted.”
—I was thinking the same thing. We’ll need to check where the Jatav raise their snakes to be sure, but the odds are high.
I turned the question over for a long while, then simply stopped thinking about it. Whether the Archmage was catering to my palate or it was pure chance, the only sensible response was to accept the tea gratefully.
—I’ll look into that again… When are you coming by today?
“Are the examinations scheduled for today?”
—Of course they are. How long do you expect us to wait when we have no idea when you’ll leave?
“…Your consideration is appreciated.”
The conversation I had half-listened to, if summarized, amounted to little more than a promise of back-breaking work ahead. No further attention required.
After all, if the earlier talk wasn’t foreshadowing both mana-eating beasts and beasts that had gone further and begun carrying demon energy, what else could it be?
Factoring in Sangun, similar cases could appear among intelligent beings as well. Distinguishing friend from foe would certainly become an advanced problem.
“Did you hear that, Demon Knight?”
The tea had finished steeping. The Archmage poured while she spoke. I had let the words wash over me, yet I had still absorbed the information; I narrowed my eyes.
“The time.”
—Come whenever it’s convenient. Daytime would be better.
“Then we should go after the midday meal. How does that sound?”
Eating first suited me perfectly. I nodded. The Archmage took that as the schedule settled and ended the call with White Wind.
“Here. Drink.”
She held out a cup. I reached for it on reflex.
Whoosh.
“…?”
I would have taken it if she hadn’t pulled the entire cup back at the last instant.
“Take it.”
I was about to wonder what sort of game this was when she offered the cup again. The moment I moved to accept it, she withdrew it once more.
“…What are you doing.”
What. Seriously, what. Archmage, are you training me? Housebreaking a puppy?
“Say thank you once, would you?”
…I had been joking, but this was actual training?!
“What nonsense—”
“I have never once heard a thank-you from you. That’s why.”
W-well. That was true. Concept-wise I had never once uttered the words.
Caught between the barrage of facts and the concept that refused them, I simply blinked. Shifting my pupils was not an option, so the reaction was inevitable.
“Just say thank you. Then I’ll give it to you.”
But this was too much! This really was too much!!
I was flung into a whirlpool of every emotion at once: blank-faced disbelief, the sheer ridiculousness of the situation, the question of why the Archmage had suddenly decided to do this, and the existential crisis of whether a man my age should still be dealing with something so childish simply because of roleplay fallout.
“Hah.”
Yet standing above every last one of those feelings was the concept.
“Do you take me for your damn dog?”
No—my concept was not some child, and more importantly, was I really going to bow my pride over a cup of tea? It wasn’t as though the character setting included any special passion for food.
Besides, while the real me might be feeling the stress melt away, the concept itself had no reason to be in a good mood right now.
The constant demon problem, the bastard I had encountered in the Great Forest, and then, the moment we returned to the city, Berserk interrupting my rest and forcing a fight.
And that was not all. Sangun had even prodded at questions of values. In short, no pleasant reaction was ever going to come out of this.
“You’ve come to look down on me completely.”
I deliberately made noise as I rose from my seat. My expression, of course, was set to pure, towering rage. With this, the Archmage’s favorability inside the concept dropped to –100.
Not that it had ever been on the positive side to begin with.
“You seem to be under the delusion that, because of the demon, you hold the leash around my neck—”
Thud-thud-thud!
Just as I was about to raise my voice, corners of my mouth and eyes trembling, a presence burst into the lodgings from outside.
It was closing in at high speed—either fleeing toward us or preparing an attack.
Bang!
My leg kicked the table away in a flash—clearing space—and my hand went to my sword.
“What in the…?”
The Archmage must have raised her staff the same instant I moved. She half-rose in surprise just as the door slammed open with enough force that a little more pressure would have torn it clean off its hinges.
“Hah… hah…”
Yet who came through that door mattered far more than how roughly they entered. It was Meat Dumpling.
Meat Dumpling looking distinctly pale.
“You…”
“I—”
If it was Dev, there was no need to stay on guard. I took my hand off the hilt and brought my half-spread stance back in. Dev, still braced against the door and gulping air, finally opened his mouth.
“I—”
“You—?”
No, it opened and then closed again.
“…It’s nothing.”
Anyone with eyes could see something had happened. What exactly was “nothing” about this?
I twisted my brows hard at the man who kept fumbling and then simply gave up speaking. If Dev refused to talk, I could not ask, so the reaction was natural.
The real problem was that Dev’s arrival had completely ruined the atmosphere; continuing the staring contest with the Archmage was no longer feasible.
In the end I stepped past the table I had shoved diagonally across the room and headed for the door Dev had come through. The tea had all spilled when the table moved, so I took care not to slip on the wet floor.
Dev, still catching his breath, glanced once at me as I left and once at the Archmage.
“D-did something happen…?”
Oh, something happened all right. But you can hear the explanation from the Archmage.
I walked straight past him, expression carved from stone.
Where to? Well, it was nearly mealtime, and I certainly could not eat under that roof. I would find somewhere decent, have a proper meal, then head to the Magic Tower.
No more watching anyone’s mood. I was going to order every single thing I felt like eating.
“What the hell actually happened??”
Deathbringer urgently compared the Demon Knight’s face from earlier that morning—when he had not looked especially displeased—with the face that had just swept past him.
His own mood had not been wonderful either, yet seeing the Demon Knight wear an expression like that made all his anger simply evaporate.
“It was more or less the usual. I simply made a small misstep. You, on the other hand, look as though something is wrong.”
“W-well, there was something.”
A moment ago he had claimed there wasn’t, but that had only been because the Demon Knight was present. Instinct had told him this was something he must not mention in front of that man.
Perhaps the shock of meeting the Demon Knight’s murderous face head-on had been too great; every sentence he had prepared simply vanished.
Deathbringer wiped away sweat that might have come from running, or from the killing intent itself—he could no longer tell which.
“What did you actually do to put His Lordship in that state? He seemed fine until just a little while ago.”
“Nothing major. He… puts up with a great deal, quite separate from the fact that he does not enjoy our company. Whether that endurance comes from awareness of the demon or from simple dislike of speaking with us, I cannot say.”
“And so?”
“Lately he has seemed to soften somewhat, so I thought I would test the distance between us and try to set our relationship on a proper footing. As you can see, this is the result. It appears I moved too early.”
“Mage-nim…”
Once he heard the explanation, it did not sound like a catastrophe.
He still had no idea how the Archmage had taken that first step to provoke such fury, yet it was something they would have had to go through eventually.
They had gathered because their goals aligned, but a relationship in which everyone constantly watched the Demon Knight’s mood was warped in its own right. Even if perfect equality was impossible, some change that allowed normal mutual communication was clearly necessary.
“More importantly, are you all right? You weren’t attacked by someone, were you?”
“Attacked… no. Probably not.”
“Probably?”
With worry for the other man fading, only his own problem remained. Deathbringer scratched the back of his head under the Archmage’s gaze.
“I didn’t take any direct injury, after all.”
“…Not being injured is not the same as suffering no harm. What happened?”
Well. How was he supposed to explain this?
Deathbringer recalled the person he had run into earlier, and the words that person had poured into his ear.
“Have you ever felt resentment over how vastly inferior your combat strength is? You followed out of admiration, yet you can’t even offer any real help—have you never felt disgust at yourself?”
“…I don’t know.”
A black tongue had engraved those words into his ear; he chewed them over again.
“There’s no need to be so wary. I only want to help. Honestly, it’s irritating, isn’t it? That dim-witted priest, that hopeless child—both of them more useful than you.”
“Just… just…”
“But I can help you. If you want it, I can help as much as you need.”
“Just…”
“Yes. I can make you stronger than even the Hero. If you simply want it.”
Those words had been a more thorough poison than any toxin he had brought back from the Great Forest.
“Shit.”
The more he chewed on them, the more pathetic his own position became.
Knowing that, Deathbringer scrubbed both hands through his hair and squeezed his eyes shut.
“I think I was just… bewitched by a demon. Whether it really was a demon, I couldn’t say.”
“What do you mean…?”
“The things it spouted before leaving just had that feel, you know? Like a con artist… something along those lines.”
“What on earth did you hear to make you—”
“Nothing important. Just garbage about whether I wasn’t jealous of the Hero, about how it could make me stronger, that sort of thing.”
And in the first place, he was not so stupid as to fall for something like that. Nor was he the sort of fool who would keep quiet about it if he had.
Being so startled he never even thought to attach a shadow was pure idiocy, true—but at least he would never swallow that kind of sweet talk and start helping with anything strange.
“It knew you were a companion of the Hero?”
“Yes. If it hadn’t known that one fact I would have written it off as a simple scammer, but that made it suspicious. And then my sword reacted, of all things. I even thought I saw something like a whale for a second—could’ve been a hallucination.”
Of course.
Even so, the fact that the offer had stirred him even the slightest bit was something not even he could bring himself to confess.
“…This is no ordinary matter. Keep it secret from everyone for now. The moment they hear this story, every one of them will abandon the rest they have barely managed to obtain and charge straight out.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Born a Hero, always upright even when exasperating—the Hero was not someone a worthless orphan thief had any right to envy.