Life Is Cruel (1)
The captain fired five signal flares in rapid succession to declare the emergency, then chose retreat without so much as a backward glance.
I had no confidence I could handle that many myself, so I simply urged Frederick on without complaint.
Frederick set his hooves to work with pure delight, as if it had been ages since he last ran flat out.
“Sir Dietrich is coming!”
“Open the gates!”
Lucky, I suppose. The merman horde still hadn’t reached the city.
That let the soldiers throw the gates wide without hesitation—something that would have been far more complicated if enemies had already been at the walls.
Creeeak.
They must have prepared the gates in advance. The sentries timed it perfectly and swung them open for us.
The soldiers who had returned ahead of us had clearly left word.
“Captain! The Lord is on the walls!”
“My thanks!”
They had even lit the streets with torches so we could gallop straight through. People heading for the castle spotted us easily and cleared the way; the open sightlines let us thunder all the way to the walls without slowing.
Creeeak.
Residents who opened their windows to see what the fuss was about looked, in the night, exactly like statues. I hate to say it, but I’ve seen this exact scene in horror games.
Snort-snort.
“Hang on a little longer!”
There were far too many torches to get properly scared, though. And unblinking torches meant no ghosts nearby. Hah!
I flaunted the steel nerves forged by every jump-scare horror game I’d ever played and focused on Frederick’s breathing. We had come all the way at a pace somewhere between a canter and a full gallop; his stamina worried me.
We had news that had to be delivered, so there was no choice… still, I hoped we hadn’t pushed him too hard.
I watched Frederick drooling foam and spit and silently begged him to hold on just a little more. The finish line was right in front of us.
“Sir Dietrich! You’ve returned!”
A soldier on the wall spotted us and shouted.
“Where is the Lord?”
“Sector Four!”
“Adventurer, left!”
Wow. Bemyurhen really is huge. I tried to calculate how long the ride had taken while following the captain’s signal.
Soldiers and adventurers crowded the base of the wall as well, so the horses automatically slowed.
“Demon Knight?”
Oh. I still didn’t know where Sector Four was, but I’d found the Inquisitor. She wasn’t alone—Deathbringer and the Archmage stood beside her, along with a face I didn’t recognize.
“My Lord!”
“Dietrich!”
Ah, so that was the Lord. Of course the person the Hero’s party kept close wouldn’t hold some ordinary post. Plenty of soldiers around him too.
“My knight!”
I watched the Lord leap down from the wall—literally jump, not a figure of speech—and hurriedly dismounted.
At last the wild ride ended; the horses heaved for breath.
The captain’s mount looked ready to collapse, while Frederick still seemed to have some left in the tank. Either way.
“Any wounds? No—thank you for returning. The gods watched over you.”
The heavily bearded Lord seized both of the captain’s arms. Dietrich, who had been about to drop to one knee in loyalty, gave an awkward laugh instead. Apparently this sort of greeting was familiar.
“My Lord, I have returned for the castle.”
Then her expression slowly filled with pride. She saluted in their fashion.
“My Lord, more importantly—the mermen on the shore…”
“How bad is it?”
“Severe. The beach is packed solid with them.”
“Damn fish. Anything else of note? Can you estimate their numbers?”
“There were so many I couldn’t properly observe anything special or count them. My apologies.”
“I see… nothing to be done, then. It’s all right.”
The Lord clapped Dietrich on the shoulder and told her to rest after her hard work. She looked briefly moved, then declared she could still fight.
Their lord-and-vassal relationship was wholesome enough, but as a third party I found it a little awkward to watch.
Snort.
“Wait.”
Well, if this counted as time to water Frederick, I had no complaints.
I poured some of the water I’d stored into my palm, sprinkled a little salt, and let him drink. I used my hand on purpose—guzzling a huge amount right after an all-out sprint didn’t seem like a good idea.
Slurp-slurp-slurp. The leather gloves I’d bought not long ago were soon soaked with Frederick’s drool.
“Um, Demon Knight…”
Just then the Inquisitor, who had come down from the wall, tried to speak while gauging my mood. Deathbringer was the same.
He stood dejectedly behind her, staring at me. A long wooden case rested in his arms.
“How did you end up with the knight…?”
Hmm. With a great battle against demons about to begin, it was probably right to open up a little.
But did I have to reveal everything I’d been doing?
“Take this one as well.”
“Ah, yes.”
I handed Frederick’s reins to the soldier collecting the captain’s horse. Frederick tossed his head, refusing the stranger.
“…When you reach the stables, give him this.”
“Yes, sir.”
I had a special contingency for moments like this. I passed the soldier the pouch of blueberries as well.
The moment Frederick recognized the blueberry pouch, he settled down again. Crafty beast.
“Shall we resume our discussion, Great Sage?”
Why was my timing so perfect today?
The instant I sent Frederick off, the Lord finished speaking with the captain. His foot was already on the first step of the stairs leading back up the wall.
“Indeed. You as well… Demon Knight, will you join us…?”
The Archmage called to me in a faintly hesitant tone. I had no reason to refuse. Knowing where one would be stationed was a privilege only a lucky few enjoyed.
Once the label of “Hero’s party member” was removed, I was just another adventurer with no way of hearing any of this without their help.
“My Lord, may he take part in the discussion?”
“Would I refuse one whom the Proxy has chosen as a companion?”
Fortunately the Lord accepted my presence. Whether Dietrich had said something about me or not, the look he gave me was fairly favorable.
“Additional information has come in, but it doesn’t seem likely to change what I said earlier in any major way.”
He spoke not to me but while standing atop the wall. The two who had been ignored and were now looking dejected, and I myself, lined up beside him.
“Hero, remain at the center and move to wherever the enemy numbers are greatest.”
“Yes…!”
“Archmage, you will be with the mages. And you…”
“I’ll stick by the Hero and assist, y’know. In other defense battles there’ve been ambushes that exploited the opening when I was stuck holding a sanctuary.”
“I’ll leave that to your companion’s discretion. Just don’t leave the Hero’s side carelessly. Soldiers or knights who mistake you for an enemy might attack.”
But hadn’t someone been missing this whole time?
Thinking of the person I’d expected to find on the wall—and who simply wasn’t there—left me with a strange feeling.
“If we’d had more time I would have made your presence known, but you don’t have as eye-catching an appearance as the Hero, and the enemy is about to hit… Hmm. Would you wear a shiny ribbon or something so people can tell you apart?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Then I’ll ask your understanding on that point.”
“Yes.”
“In exchange, move as you see fit. So long as you do the castle no harm, I will protect you with the Lord’s authority.”
Surely he hadn’t stepped away because of the fight we’d had… right?
“And as for you…”
Our relationship being what it was, I couldn’t even ask, which only made me more melancholy. I focused on the Lord who was addressing me.
“Strictly speaking, knights mean little on this ground. We use the walls to shoot arrows and thrust spears in one-sided attacks.”
As he spoke he pointed to the seaward face of the wall beneath us. Another wall stood at a distance, and beyond it a space bristling with spikes. Magical lamps placed here and there helped illuminate the dark.
The twisted embankments and turrets lay just beyond that.
“So the only times knights step forward are for reconnaissance, when mermen break through the walls, or after the battle when the water recedes and they walk the embankments killing any mermen that failed to escape.”
That certainly made it hard for me to take the field. In truth, every naval battle had been like that.
“Therefore, if there is a place you prefer, I will assign you there…”
Maybe the protruding section of the outer wall. I studied the bridges connecting the first row of turrets—too flimsy to really call them “towers,” and serving little purpose beyond linking the sea towers—and the soldiers standing on them, weighing my options.
If I went there I could unleash sword aura or mana spears as wildly as I liked. Being in the middle of the ocean meant no worries about friendly fire or collateral damage.
“You want to go there? We usually staff it with adventurers, so I don’t mind, but…”
My words made the Lord’s expression complicated, yet he didn’t object. Instead he offered a warning: that spot produced the most deaths, and knowing how to use a bow made fighting far easier.
I was reasonably confident I could survive a fall into the sea, and since I could just spam mana spears instead of arrows, the warning didn’t particularly apply to me.
“Fortune favor you.”
With that the Lord gestured that he would inform the officer in charge. Several waiting soldiers hurried off and returned with someone.
“I know I’m not someone who could talk you out of it, and I have no right to interfere…”
In the meantime the Archmage, who had only been watching, spoke.
“Return in one piece.”
“…Indeed, Demon Knight! Please do not push yourself too hard!”
“And don’t collapse for two whole weeks again this time…”
They were words that could have been said even in a perfectly ordinary relationship, yet somehow my mouth felt dry and rough.
“And also…”
Perhaps it was because of the case Deathbringer had been carrying this whole time, the one that had been bothering me.
“Just in case… please take this… won’t you, milord?”
Click. Through the open lid of the case a white blade gleamed—an utterly beautiful, pure sword.
“It’s a better sword than that one, y’know.”
…Deathbringer still had the sword he had offered me before. Why, I couldn’t say. Maybe he still clung to the hope that I would accept it someday.
“You break swords pretty often when you fight. Having a spare for those times wouldn’t be bad. So…”
Except… the color doesn’t match. Yeah, color palette matters.
I turned my gaze away with the lightest thoughts I could manage. The person who had just finished speaking with the soldiers was kindly waiting, seeing how serious we looked.
“May I go?”
“Well, you can, but…”
Good enough. I approached the soldier who seemed to be in charge. His eyes were a little strange, but he didn’t try to speak to me.
“This way.”
The soldier led me along, listing several points to keep in mind.
Unless the wall itself collapsed, stay at the assigned post as much as possible.
If there was no room and someone died, push the corpse outward or clear it away and keep attacking.
Unless specifically ordered, never go onto the bridges.
If you were on a bridge and it looked ready to collapse, evacuate toward the nearer side—turret or castle.
“Don’t force yourself across to the castle just because you don’t want to be isolated on a turret. More people die that way.”
Even though armor covered most of his body, scars showed here and there. The soldier gave the advice in a dry tone.
“Bridges collapse extremely fast.”
Because they fell so often, they weren’t built all that solidly—not shoddy construction so much as simply not meant to withstand bombardment—he explained.
“And don’t start chatting with the people next to you just because you can’t see enemies. It means you mustn’t let your guard down, but there’s another reason too.”
Mermen often tried to gnaw through the base of a turret to bring it down, he said, so staying quiet enough to hear that sound was important. That was definitely something I needed to remember.
“Keep an eye on the lamps lighting the sea as well. They always start by putting out the lights to hide their approach—that’s as good as the start of battle.”
Lucky or unlucky, the rest of the information was nothing special: meals, latrines, shift times.
“Adventurer, you can stand over there for now…”
Then the soldier broke off mid-sentence and smacked the back of a man who was trembling in place.
“Relax! If you can’t get your head on straight you’ll miss the chance to live!”
That random shout carried the weight of long experience.
“Ahaha, leave him be—he’s a newbie. Even a priest couldn’t fix that!”
“Tsk. Why’s a newbie even here?”
“’Cause the pay’s fat. This is the only place that pays even if you die!”
“You gotta be alive to spend money… tsk.”
The Lord’s claim that the post was staffed by adventurers seemed accurate. A quick look around showed only a handful of soldiers; the rest were all adventurers.
“First time here for you too?”
“You don’t look like the type to get tense… but just in case, here’s some advice—don’t worry too much. Fewer people die than the rumors say.”
“Of course if a turret collapses, everyone dies no matter what!”
“Eek!”
“Wahaha! Newbie’s scared!”
Even so, for adventurers they seemed extremely used to the place. Only their clothes were free-form; the way they moved was no different from the soldiers assigned here.
Which meant they had been showing up to this post for a very long time.
“Stop chatting and watch the sea! Report immediately if any light goes out!”
“Yessir.”
“Heh, you sounded just like a soldier just now.”
From the Lord’s perspective, of course he wouldn’t want to regularly throw soldiers into a low-survival post. Soldiers didn’t pop out of thin air; they cost money and time to replace.
Adventurers, on the other hand, brought their own gear, died without costing the castle anything if they weren’t skilled enough, and new ones kept coming to fill the spots as long as you paid. Efficient if you looked at it kindly; sacrificial if you didn’t. Since proper payment was given and they came of their own free will, it wasn’t something to condemn.
“Front! One light just went out!”
One of the few soldiers shouted. The voice from the top of a turret rolled powerfully across the night sea.
“Forget any thought of returning to the castle! All hands, arm yourselves!”
The lamps that had been burning bright enough to see into the water even at night began vanishing one by one.
“Remember this! The more of them we kill, the less burden falls on the walls!”
In the water that had risen with the sea, thrashing tails began to appear one after another.
“Attack!”