Upon This Earth (1)
“Wait—just a moment…!”
“Enough, Priestess.”
“Pardon?”
“The Demon Knight has already refused.”
“B-but Berserk— the Demon Knight is…”
The Inquisitor looked from the receding figure to the one holding her back, unable to understand why Berserk had stopped her.
“Respect his choice, Priestess.”
Berserk spoke each word with deliberate clarity.
“You have no right to intervene with him. You are weaker than he is.”
The words made no sense.
“…I know I am still terribly lacking. But my weakness has nothing to do with whether I am worthy of reaching out to him!”
Strength did not confer rights. And had she not already sworn a vow with that Slicker earlier? She had no intention of giving up.
Yet the moment she cried out, Berserk tilted her head slightly to one side.
Those amber eyes—usually reminiscent of a great beast or the sun itself—shone like gold. The gold of something that had lain buried a thousand years underground and been changed by the dark.
“You are wrong, Priestess. The weak are granted neither qualification nor right of any kind.”
“The right and the qualification to reach out to another are given by courage alone. They have nothing to do with power.”
“Priestess.”
In the Inquisitor’s gaze, Berserk aged in a single instant.
Not that new wrinkles appeared or her hair turned white.
With one breath, Berserk changed the weight of her eyes. The thousand-year gold sank into the earth, into the deep sea. No radiance remained.
“It is not that I do not understand your words. I, too, love those who take courage and struggle. But… there are things in this world that cannot be resolved by courage, endurance, and earnest desire alone. Things that can only be settled by the power of a single person… just as it is right now.”
Hot gold turned to cold iron.
“Why… why is this something that can only be resolved by the power of one person? Why? The Demon Knight is simply in pain—”
“If the Demon Knight goes berserk, can you subdue him?”
“I-I will try. Somehow I will restrain him and…”
“Can you picture that ‘somehow’ in a definite form? Not only for yourself, but clearly enough to convince the Demon Knight as well?”
“…….”
“Priestess. Saving a person can be attempted even with meager strength. Holding someone’s hand and dying together can be salvation for some. But protecting is different. Protecting is an entirely different matter.”
With every word Berserk enunciated, a chill settled over them.
“When you protect an old woman from thugs, what you need is power. When you look after a child pursued by loan sharks, what is required is likewise power. Even when you try to save someone who has thrown himself into a duel ready to die, you cannot do it without power. Whether it is gold, martial might, or authority—there are moments when you must have power if you wish to obtain the answer you desire.”
Her tongue was colder than a blade and more merciless than alpine snow.
“That is also why neither you nor the young hunter have been given the right or the opportunity to protect the Demon Knight. With your abilities, you cannot protect him. You will not even be able to save him.”
At least, that was how it felt to the Inquisitor. A blade could still be blocked; this would reach her even if she covered her ears.
“…Then what about you, Warrior? We know we are weak. But if it is you…”
“Young hunter.”
Yet what grieved the Inquisitor most of all—what made her truly desolate—was this:
“Do not think you are the only one who resents the limits of strength.”
The expression on Berserk’s face as she spoke those words was itself heartbreakingly sorrowful.
“If I could have stepped forward, I would have done so long ago. The Demon Knight is a rare and entertaining opponent. I would love to clash with him again.”
Knowing that Berserk herself did not truly want to step back like this… the Inquisitor could only feel all the more wretched.
“…Even so, I will not give up.”
Yet instead of weeping she cried out through reddened eyes.
“In the end, if I become stronger, the problem is solved, is it not? So rather than give up, I will simply try harder. That is my duty.”
To break rather than bend—that had always been the Inquisitor’s way of life.
“…Do as you like, Priestess. Only… never mind. Just—do not be late. Fate will not wait for you.”
Berserk offered the encouragement with a weary face. That face still seemed to forecast impossibility, and for an instant even doubt and regret flickered across it, yet at least she no longer looked ready to restrain her.
That was enough. The Inquisitor was someone who could act even without anyone joining her.
“Slicker. Are you coming too?”
“…Where to?”
“We must follow the Demon Knight! Whether he leans on us or not is beside the point—we at least need to find out whether something is wrong with his health!”
“…Ah. Right. We should.”
Still, she would force this one to join her. Seeing the fellow turn gloomy again after being told he was weak, she smacked him hard across the back.
Slap!
“──!!!”
One hit and he flopped and melted like a freshly caught fish!
Forgetting that she herself regularly walked around carrying thirty or forty kilograms of armor, she stared down at the scoundrel collapsed on the ground.
“We are only just beginning—do not start making weak noises already! Around the Demon Knight, are you nothing but a joke?”
“…….”
“Answer me!”
“…….”
“…Um, Priestess.”
“What is it?”
“The young hunter appears to have fainted.”
“What???”
⌈Urgently Seeking Demon Knight for Health Checkup at the Castle⌋
⌈Seeking Demon Knight Willing to Accept Gift Delivery and an Apology⌋
Those two messages—what were they, you ask?
They were the words that greeted me the moment I came downstairs for breakfast after a refreshingly good night’s sleep at the inn.
“Demon Knight!!”
“My lord!!”
I lost all speech at the sight of the two people holding picket signs outside the inn. The form their appearance had taken was so far beyond imagination that my mind simply went blank from sheer mortification.
…What the hell are those two even doing?
“Er, guest? Do you happen to know those peop—”
While I stood there staring, the employee sidled up and asked…
“I do not.”
“Yes, sir.”
I had no desire whatsoever to answer. Embarrassment was embarrassment, and this was overwhelmingly, spectacularly embarrassing.
After sending the employee away with a far more murderous and forbidding air than usual, I gathered my mana.
Crack!
“Eh!”
“Whoa.”
A small spear of mana formed, shattered only the pickets in the Inquisitor’s and Deathbringer’s hands, and vanished. Passersby looked mildly startled, but this was no time to spare their feelings. Whew. At last the mortifying spectacle was gone.
“Demon Knight, the fact that you destroyed the pickets must mean you are willing to speak with us after all—!”
…No. Apparently it was not gone yet.
The instant the pickets broke, I watched the two of them come charging into the first-floor tavern area of the inn. They looked like dogs… no. They looked like madmen on a rampage.
“Your order is—whoa!”
“Hup!”
Reflexively I kicked the nearest table. The customer sitting at it and the employee who had been approaching to set down food both clutched their hearts, but there was no actual damage.
“Hup-cha!”
The table went flying and scored a direct hit on the Inquisitor and Deathbringer. The Inquisitor caught it, spun once, and set it down safely—but still.
In the meantime I ducked into the kitchen. I had known there was another exit through there.
“Guest, this isn’t a place customers are supposed to—well… please, by all means, use it.”
Thank goodness I always kept my luggage in the inventory.
I passed the flustered cook and went out through the kitchen’s back door—or side door, really, since it was on the side. An alley between the inn and the building next door opened before me.
“Ah! Demon Knight!”
“My lord, let’s go together!!”
These lunatics. I slammed the door and strode quickly out of the alley. With so many people on the main road, blending into the crowd seemed the wiser choice.
“Demon Knight!!”
“My lord!!”
Don’t yell so loud! It’s humiliating!
I did not run—yet I moved swiftly through the throng.
For the record, the reason I did not run was that I was absolutely not a fugitive. Anyway. Why should I feel guilty enough to make a desperate escape? I simply wanted to avoid getting entangled, so I was only changing location.
“Demon Kniiiight!!!”
“My lord, I know I’m not qualified, but I still felt I had to do this…! Argh, please wait just a moment!”
Fortunately they were not running either. Probably because of the crowds.
Tap, tap, tap.
In any case I slipped into another alley. Destination: the bookstore I had visited yesterday.
Originally I had planned to go to the castle, ask about the schedule, then inquire after a decent smithy… but I could not very well drag those two around with me.
“My lord, you’re really fast…”
“Demon Knight! Where are you going? To the temple? Ah—you can have the examination at the castle! The Archmage has changed it so it will be done there!”
In the end they caught up. I was walking at a brisk warning pace while those two were half-running, so it was inevitable. They stuck two steps behind me and chattered nonstop.
“Um, that is, my lord. So…”
“Stop stammering and speak properly.”
“…I’m sorry. It’s late to say this, and I know I have no right… but still, I have to apologize, so…”
“Stop dragging it out!”
“You stay out of this! Ah—I’m not joking. My lord, I know it’s far too late… but I mean this with all my heart. I’m sorry. Back then… when I attacked you. I am truly… truly sorry… I didn’t mean it, I really didn’t. I, I just… no, not just… only at that moment I was a little…”
Then, for a moment, when I heard an apology I had never expected to hear, a corner of my mind went blank.
“So… damn it, I’m sorry. I really… really am… If you were hurt at all…”
“What is this ‘damn it’? Speak properly!”
“Argh! Would you please stay out of it?! I-I want to do this properly too, but the words just won’t come out right now!”
So he hadn’t hated me.
…He hadn’t been afraid I would kill him.
“I’ve never done an apology like this before… So… argh, I’m not even asking for forgiveness or anything! Just, just this one feeling that I’m truly sorry… You don’t have to accept it, but still, I wanted to convey it… Because I was really in the wrong… I, I acted so stupidly back then, and I’m sorry…”
I listened to Deathbringer’s voice finally breaking into sobs and barely managed to suppress the urge to turn my head away.
“I can’t call it compensation, but I… bought a longsword… If you would just… take it, would that be all right? I won’t dare think I’ve been forgiven just because you accept it…”
“Someone who can’t even apologize properly is still an idiot through and through. But Demon Knight! This fellow has truly repented a great deal. I have no right to intervene and certainly no intention of forcing forgiveness upon you, yet would it not be better to at least grant him the chance to apologize?”
There was no helping it. His apology had come a little late. Perhaps very late. Or perhaps inevitably so.
As if it were fated.
“…….”
Realizing the true nature of the longsword Deathbringer had been cradling yesterday, I opened my mouth—then closed it again at once.
It was a story that no longer held any meaning.
“…My lord?”
“Demon Knight, did you hear?”
If only to close my ears, I focused on finding the way. Before long a familiar alley came into view.
Knock, knock.
“Where is this?”
“…There’s only one window.”
I knocked and concentrated on the presence inside. Apparently I had come too early. No sound answered. Well, it was morning; the shop might not open for a while yet.
“Oh? Customer?”
“Hm?”
“……?”
“…Huh?”
Luckily, the bookstore owner arrived not long after. His gaze lingered for a moment on the two people stuck behind me.
“Er, why is someone from the temple…”
Bookstore Owner, do you not get along with the temple? I jerked my chin at the man whose face had gone pale.
“Open it.”
“Um… customer, I think there may be some misunderstanding…”
“Demon Knight! Who is this person?”
“He looks like a scribe… is that right, my lord…?”
“……??”
What was I supposed to do with this collective monologue? And why was the bookstore owner acting like this today? What misunderstanding?
“…Um, Priestess. You haven’t come to inspect the shop, have you?”
“…? No?”
“Ah—ahhhh! I see! Then a transcription commission…?”
“Are you a scribe?”
I exhaled and knocked harder on the door. Thud.
“If you will not open it, I will leave.”
“No, no! Just a moment!”
The shopkeeper, who had been distracted by the other two, scrambled to the door. Clunk. The old door opened.
“Please, come in. There are many books I don’t have, but transcription is always possib—”
Thud!
“Eh.”
“W-wait, my lord!”
“Demon Knight?”
The moment I stepped inside the bookstore I shut the door before the Inquisitor and Deathbringer could enter. Both the shopkeeper who had just lit a candle and the two left outside made startled noises.
“Um, the two outside don’t need to come in…?”
Clink.
“Do not let them in. Under any circumstances.”
“Yes, sir.”
A coin purse thicker than yesterday’s dropped into the shopkeeper’s hand. Of course the man beamed at the silver coins glinting through the gap.
“Then I take it you’ll be reading upstairs again today.”
Of course this barrier could still be breached if those two paid more… but Deathbringer was a notorious skinflint and the Inquisitor rarely carried money. They would never outbid me.
I… bought a longsword… If you would just… take it, would that be all right?
…Even though Deathbringer was a skinflint.
Grrrk.
My attention shifted to the timely sound. Ah. I had skipped breakfast, so my stomach…
After a brief hesitation I pulled another thirty thousand gal from my inventory and added it to the shopkeeper’s hand.
“This is?”
“I would like to order the same delivery I ate yesterday. Handle it for me. Keep the rest.”
“Ah, of course!”
Someone young enough to run a shop should be fairly clever; I wondered if it was proper to dump such a trivial errand on him… but he did not seem particularly offended. Relieved, I went upstairs.
“Um, I’m sorry, but could you please leave…?”
“W-we’re sort of companions, though… so maybe…?”
“These days do people call a relationship in which the door is shut in your face before you even enter ‘companions’? I haven’t heard that the meaning of the word has changed.”
“No, that’s…”
“Th-that is…”
“Well, I don’t know the full story of your relationship so I won’t comment… but right now I cannot let you in. This guest came first and made the request first. If you really are companions, sort it out among yourselves later.”
“Ah, well. We came right now in order to sort that out.”
“We came because we have something to apologize for… that too…”
“That situation is none of my business. Please leave. Honestly, from my perspective you two look a bit like stalk—”
“A-a commission! We’ll place a commission! Yes! We came to place a commission!”
“Is that so? Then please go over to that shop. The interior here is too dark for conversation.”
“No, that is…”
“Is there a problem?”
For the record, the shopkeeper earned every single coin he had been paid, and admirably so.
I would have to leave him a bigger tip on the way out.
The Archmage sighed as he looked at the piece of Biryuho’s corpse before him.
He said he wanted distance, yet he left something like this entirely in her hands.
Was she supposed to take it as a sign that she was trusted even if not bonded? Or should she assume the Demon Knight simply placed so little weight on the act that he had dumped it on her? She was not sure.
Probably the latter, in all likelihood.
“Will you buy it?”
“…The temple will not be able to purchase any of it.”
“I see. Then the Magic Tower will take everything after all.”
Still, considering the devotion he had shown, her task was clear.
The Archmage examined the butchered remains once more while calculating how to set the price as high as possible.
“Hm?”
Then a sudden thought: the thigh bone of this thing might make a rather fine sword.
He had already bought a longsword for the Demon Knight, but that was only ordinary iron. It would break before long.
“I should buy this myself.”
He was ignorant of weapons, so he would seek Berserk’s or the Inquisitor’s advice… yet he doubted they would give a bad answer regarding the material.
“The formula has stabilized nicely, so if things go well…”
He roughly estimated his personal assets and rummaged through his knowledge of who could be entrusted with the crafting.
Fortunately there was someone he had contacted recently for formula refinement and item production.
“If I’m lucky, I might receive it right on schedule.”
Piling this additional request onto the existing commission made him feel a twinge of conscience for overloading the man, yet looking at skill alone there was no other choice.
The Archmage decided that if he was not going to use his connections now, when would he ever?
“Archmage…”
“Mage-nim…”
“…Inquisitor? And you?”
Of course, whether the gift would ever actually reach its intended owner was another matter entirely.
After hearing the full story from the two who had returned in tears, she tapped her forehead repeatedly.
Somehow, fixing a single bond was turning out harder than hunting demons.