Flares Over the Coast
“I recommended him on your word, Archmage, but I still can’t help wondering if this will truly be all right.”
The castle lord stood by the window opposite the Great Sage who had returned to visit. Beyond the glass, the stretch of coast toward which the scouting party had ridden was only a faint suggestion in the night’s dark.
“If you’ve faced mermen yourself, you already know… their claws are unspeakably sharp. Misjudge the distance by even a little and they’ll sever a horse’s fetlock or shear a man’s leg clean through.”
What he had really hoped for was the Hero herself taking the field. Whether it was proper to put a Hero to such work was another matter, but the lives of his own soldiers weighed heavier.
He thought of the two men who had already lost life or limb on reconnaissance, and of the two elite soldiers the fortress had lost while already reeling from manpower shortages. If it meant protecting precious troops, he would work a Hero as hard as necessary. He had simply been too mindful of the temple’s gaze to ask outright.
“I understand Your Lordship’s concerns, yet I assure you that employing the Demon Knight will bring no disappointment. And I do not say this merely because he travels with us.”
“Is that so?”
“For work of this sort, he will prove superior even to the Hero.”
If the Great Sage would vouch for him so firmly, then so be it. The lord decided to set his mind a little more at ease.
“Well, his fee was certainly higher than other adventurers’. I hadn’t expected the guild itself to name such a price before he even opened his mouth.”
“These days he accepts even trifling jobs so that his schedule may align with ours, but by nature he rarely takes commissions this… comparatively peaceful.”
“Peaceful, you say…”
“Only when measured against demon hunting. Against ordinary work, the troubles of this place are hardly peaceful.”
“True enough.”
Besides, regret was already too late. There existed no power in the world that could instantly recall those already sent out.
“Have the demon worshipers still said nothing?”
“Regrettably not. They seem to sense a traitor among them and have been thrashing about, yet they clearly do not know the precise truth.”
Even allies were casting suspicious looks at how swiftly the investigation had unfolded. How much more so the punished demon worshipers themselves. They had already been shouting that it made no sense, that it had to be a traitor’s doing. Yet no one had named a specific person or group, so for now it remained mere conspiracy talk.
“Those who led this purge are also re-examining the progress with gratitude, but…”
He felt sorry for the soldiers who had labored since dawn, yet there was no choice. He had received the report of the operation only the night before it began. Before that—or rather, until the operational plan itself had been submitted—he needed to clarify exactly what had occurred.
He could not risk overlooking a potential danger simply out of consideration for his men: a plant of the demon worshipers, or even a traitor from his own side. Anyone whose true allegiance remained unknown was an enemy.
“Thus far nothing unusual has come to light.”
Fortunate or not, the account the centurion had given when submitting the plan matched everything the fresh investigation had uncovered.
An anonymous tip accusing demon worshipers had arrived. The source and authenticity had been dubious, yet several names already long suspected of demon-following appeared on it, so a survey had been ordered just in case. Before long the tip’s contents proved true. The operational plan had therefore been submitted at once.
In none of those successive steps did any corruption or impropriety appear to have crept in.
“Ah—so when a tip arrives you do not report it to Your Lordship before acting?”
“How many denunciations do you think arrive in a year? Most are handled at the centurion level; only when the findings are certain do they reach me.”
It was only because this concerned demon worshipers that he received the final report at all. Ordinary criminals would never have come to his desk.
“In any case… immediately after receiving the plan and the preliminary report, I grew uneasy and had every person involved watched until the operation began. No one made secret contact.”
It had not been open surveillance, but rather specialists assigned for that purpose, and still nothing. It was early to be certain, yet it did not seem that a plant had been embedded in the guard itself.
“We are also investigating the sender of the tip, but it was passed through several messengers in a long chain, so I doubt anything useful will emerge from that quarter either.”
“I see…”
An informer (presumed demon follower) of almost regrettable thoroughness.
“Let us turn to other matters. It is not a question that will yield answers easily, and thanks to their internal strife we have largely cleared out the festering disease that was working in secret. I cannot believe any large group remains after a haul of this size.”
“If Your Lordship thinks so.”
Yet the lord did not regard the matter lightly simply because he had spoken those words. It was not complacency; it was trust in the guard he and his predecessors had raised. They would never have allowed demon worshipers easy entry into the city; they would not have missed many during the purges; and even if a few had slipped through every net, their numbers would not be great—and those few would have been swept away by this very tip. That was the belief he held.
“Then how do the mermen fare these days?”
“Poorly. The number of mermen the scouts discover keeps rising, yet the sea itself remains unnaturally calm.”
And so the lord and the Great Sage began a second conversation on a different topic—one, in truth, more important than the first.
“According to the records that have come down to the city, whenever the sea grows quiet like this something vast has always arrived… I cannot say what it will be this time.”
“Hmm. Something vast…”
“A great tidal wave, or a storm… or a dragon, for instance.”
“A dragon…?”
“The records are ancient; no one knows the truth. Perhaps they mistook a waterspout.”
That waterspouts were a species of storm had been established only recently—after magic had succeeded in reproducing storms. Some among the learned still believed a waterspout marked the passage of a dragon, yet at least the lord of Bemyurhen had confirmed the new theory.
“There are two or three records of dragons being sighted, but the complete absence of damage is itself evidence. The probability of a dragon is low.”
On that basis he dismissed the possibility. After all, with even the Sea Dragon of the west dead, only a single dragon remained in the world—so far as humanity knew. And that dragon never left the northern lands of the barbarians. It could not be that one.
“Still, it would be wiser to leave the possibility open.”
“Of course. We have been steadily researching weapons meant for giant beasts, just in case. Technical limits mean we have produced only one thing of real worth so far, but…”
“That there is even one is reassuring—”
The Archmage, who had been listening, suddenly rose. Her gaze slipped past him to something behind.
“Is something the matter…?”
Instinctively the lord turned as well.
“That is…”
Beyond the square window, the pale light of a signal flare announcing the appearance of mermen glimmered faintly. It came from the direction of the coast where the scouts had gone.
Earlier we had dug a channel to draw water from the stream. The moment the ditch filled, however, someone blocked the connection to the brook—why, I never learned—so the water could not be used for washing dishes. It was meant for drinking and for the horses; contamination would have been a problem.
Thus I and a few other soldiers walked out ourselves to clean the mess kits. A few from another squad who had finished eating early hurried after us.
“Whew. The captain says she’ll let us go as long as there are two or more, but honestly, just two people is still terrifying.”
Ah… so that was why they hadn’t moved even though they knew the rules better than I did. Minimum numbers still felt scary.
“You’re not afraid, Adventurer?”
“Someone more used to camping than we are? What’s there to be scared of, senior?”
“Ah, right.”
“And the reason you’re afraid out here isn’t because the night is dark—it’s because a merman might come bursting out.”
“Ah. Caught me.”
I flinched. The line stabbed straight into an old trauma; my body shrank of its own accord. Somebody confiscate that sentence from the world. Just hearing it makes my eyes sting.
“But am I the only one who’s scared? You lot are scared too—admit it.”
“We’re not exactly unafraid… There have been a few precedents, rare as they are…”
“See?”
That said, the spot where we had pitched camp was a fair distance from the beach. The nearby water didn’t even connect to the sea. And still mermen came this far? Mildly surprising.
“…They come all the way out here?”
“Hm? Ah. Yes. There’s water here, so if they put their minds to it they can come as far as they like.”
Because there’s water…?
“You already know, of course, that mermen die if they dry out. That’s why they can’t stay active on land for long… but if there are streams or puddles along the way, they splash themselves and keep going.”
“From our point of view—having to camp near a brook just to water the horses—it’s a complete pain in the ass.”
So mermen had that trait as well… Then the rule about never going to wash dishes alone made the same sense. I filed the new knowledge away. It never came up in the game—or maybe it did and I simply forgot.
“Still, this place is outside the usual range where mermen can operate from the sea, and there’s no special water source between the camp and the shore…”
After rain, though, water sometimes pooled in low spots, and they could always zigzag in from elsewhere. The soldiers grumbled about it.
“But this campsite is one of the safer ones. Other spots get hit about one time in ten.”
Not a bad thing to know. Given that mermen mostly appeared in the east, I might not need the information often… but the world has a way of surprising you.
“So…”
“Halt.”
If I hadn’t heard those words just then, I would never have noticed the restless presence drifting nearby.
“…Stop.”
I held one soldier back; the sharper ones followed suit at once. The rest, startled, did the same. Some may have wondered what was wrong, but none kept walking.
“Enemies?”
“Enemies…!”
My confirmation made them even faster. They mastered their expressions in a heartbeat and seized the spears slung across their backs. The formation that snapped into place was the classic shape for meeting an ambush.
“Keep your distance and follow.”
“Shouldn’t we go together…?”
“You would only get in the way.”
Did this count as acting on my own again? But the captain and vice-captain weren’t watching, so it probably didn’t matter. Still debating, I stepped out in front of the soldiers. “Take a torch,” one of them offered, holding his out.
Click.
But a torch would leave one arm useless and only hinder me. I clipped a lantern to my belt, lit it, and strode forward. The enemy, reading my position by the light, prepared to spring.
Beyond the cut brush meant to open a line of sight, they had pressed themselves low among the reeds we hadn’t finished clearing.
“Is it all right to let him go alone like that…?”
“Let’s wait and see for now.”
But is an ambush still an ambush once it’s already been spotted? I drew the zweihander. Thud-scrape. As the blade left its sheath it naturally dragged across the damp earth between the grasses. Wet ground mixed with grass and moisture makes a different sound from dry dirt.
“He must have something in mi—”
And when the distance had narrowed just enough, I flipped the zweihander upward to meet the merman that burst out. Slash. Without any need to kick it, the blade leapt into the air, cut the first merman on a diagonal, kept its momentum, spun, and took the second.
Legged mermen. The kind with feet.
“Mermen!”
Not finished. I found and cut the ones still hiding. Once three of them were dead, even the ones that had meant to ambush us came charging all at once.
Slash!
Suddenly it felt tiresome, so I simply swept them with a blade of aura. At first I had meant to spare the scenery and use only the steel… but thinking about it from Bemyurhen’s perspective, fewer reeds would probably be better. All they ever served was as cover for mermen ambushes exactly like this one.
“You—run back to camp for no—”
In that interval the one who looked highest-ranking among the soldiers started to give an order to the youngest-looking.
“No. All of you go back.”
I spoke quickly. The senses I had stretched to check for remaining mermen were now ringing alarm bells.
“Dozens of mermen are coming this way.”
The ones just now had been only the vanguard; more were on the way.
“Captain! Mermen approaching!”
“What?!”
I considered staying behind alone to fight, but something about the feeling was off, so I chose to pull back with them. Looking back, it was not a bad decision.
Judging by the number of approaching presences, the soldiers would need to withdraw all the way to the city—and if they did, they would certainly take Frederick with them. That would leave me walking home. After preparing two days’ rations just in case when I learned the commission was outside the walls, I still had no desire to be a footslogger.
“How many?”
“At least thirty.”
I hadn’t confirmed them with my eyes, but the count would not be far off. Feeling the presences draw nearer by the second, I swapped the zweihander for a longsword. As an extra precaution against mermen arriving first, I planted myself across their path of approach and readjusted my grip.
“Within forty meters.”
“…Prepare to withdraw! Drop anything useless! Everyone mount!”
The captain looked as if she wanted to say something to me, yet she did not waste time verifying whether my words were true or false. It was the judgment of someone who first considered what wasted seconds would cost if the report proved real.
“Call out every ten meters they close!”
Instead she took her place beside me. Perhaps she meant, like me, to buy the soldiers time to escape.
“Thirty meters.”
I watched the soldiers abandon water, rations, and blankets, snatching only weapons as they raced for the horses.
“Damn it, I haven’t even eaten yet.”
A faint note of pathos colored some of their shouts. In truth, if they had left the cleanup to me alone I could have finished the lot before they even reached us, so there was no real need for such haste. It still felt a little sad.
“Twenty meters.”
But explaining all that at length would have been awkward, and ignoring the unease would have been awkward too. So I simply reported, steadily, as the captain ordered. For creatures that didn’t even live on land, their feet were impressively quick.
“Captain, Adventurer—horses!”
The vice-captain brought mounts right up behind us so we could leap on at once.
“All mounted!”
“Good—move out!”
And when the distance had closed to about ten meters, everyone was in the saddle. “You first.” Pitch-black mana gathered along my blade.
Slash!
If I had no intention of fighting a prolonged battle, there was less need to conserve mana. I casually carved through several dozen meters of the front in a single stroke.
“…Would have been quite a spectacle in daylight.”
Probably. The sight of living bodies turning into meat might not be pretty, but the way the reed beds fell would have looked impressive.
Whicker.
In any case, once the mermen that had closed in were wiped out at a stroke, we had breathing room to flee. I swung up onto Frederick, who showed not the least tension or excitement. Only then did the captain, already mounted, urge her horse forward.
“We head for the city for now! And Adventurer—are more enemies still coming?”
“They are.”
“How many?”
Well… they weren’t close enough for an exact count. I could tell they were there, but the precise number escaped me.
“…Can you handle them all?”
“Do not ask the obvious.”
Oh… good thing I hadn’t spent all my mana. Or rather, I simply hadn’t needed to go that far. At my answer the captain swallowed hard, then shouted:
“Vice-captain! Lead the soldiers back to the city!”
“What?!”
“Everyone, return to the city with the vice-captain! The Adventurer and I will gather a little more information!”
“But—!”
“Adventurer, we slow!”
“…Ah, for fuck’s sake!!”
Because the three of us had started late, we were still at the rear; peeling off was easy. Our horses gradually decelerated. Frederick snorted and scraped the ground with a forehoof.
“We eliminate every approaching merman, then reconnoiter the coast. Any objection?”
“None.”
Would it be better to dismount and meet them, or simply stay mounted, fling aura blades, and cut them down before they even got close? I considered briefly and chose the latter for now. If it looked bad I could always jump down and fight.
“…Let’s go.”
I followed the captain forward. Luck was with us: most of the mermen had already died to the earlier stroke, so the stragglers could be finished from horseback without trouble.
“Now we only need to check the coast…?”
The problem was the sight that met us once we had killed the last of them and approached the shoreline.
“…We turn back at once!”
Defense battles are usually wars of attrition, but isn’t having so many that they blot out the very waves a bit much?