Filled with Anguish (7)
“A wager…? You made one with a demon…….”
Meister pushed himself away from the bars and turned to face the Demon Knight. The irritation that had been rising over how stupidly the man was acting mid-sentence suddenly reined itself in. The Demon Knight he had seen so far was no ordinary halfwit; he was, in his own way, a regular person you could actually talk to.
And yet that regular person had just downgraded himself into a halfwit on the spot? There had to be a reason. Something like his intelligence hadn’t actually dropped—he simply had no memory of it.
Meister recalled the words his grandfather had passed on. Until the moment the signal flare was fired. If that wasn’t a deliberately incomplete statement, then it was the plain truth. In other words, the Demon Knight had no memories from the instant after he fired the flare until the moment he woke up here again.
…Not even the memory of the wager with the demon, or the warning he himself had spat out at the end.
Meister’s head began to throb.
“From what I heard, the demon that was inside your body couldn’t kill any of us—couldn’t even land a single scratch—because of some kind of wager. Every single one of us, myself included, concluded that the wager was made between you and the demon.”
Still, he had to say what needed saying. He hurriedly explained the situation to the Demon Knight. The man seemed somewhat startled; like Meister, he turned his body slightly and parted his lips as if to speak, then closed them again.
“…Did they tell you the terms of the wager?”
So he had only been playing dumb because of the missing memories; his intelligence itself hadn’t fallen. Meister felt a quiet satisfaction watching the Demon Knight refuse to waste time with questions like “Is that true?” or “I don’t remember any of that.” If the man who used to be reasonably conversational had truly become a halfwit, it would have been a pity for about an hour. Thank goodness.
“They said if we tried to kill you, he would come out again himself.”
“If that were true, it would have been more advantageous to keep silent.”
“I agree. But the problem is that he went and announced that even telling us the condition was part of the wager. If it was a bluff, fine—but if it was real, we would have had to face a Great Demon without anyone capable of handling him.”
In that sense, the Demon Knight waking up unharmed was nothing short of a miracle. Not only for the Demon Knight himself, but for every human present in this place.
“On top of that, you left a message telling us to prepare properly. From our side, we had no choice but to trust that rather than rush in and screw everything up.”
“…I left a message.”
“Yes.”
He had expected as much, but the man didn’t even remember leaving the message. Meister ran a hand through his bangs again as he looked at the figure whose face was hidden by hair and darkness. He wanted a cigarette.
“…He said he didn’t want to lose a vessel he’d finally obtained. That’s probably why the wager started. The real issue is the process of settling the terms. Anything else you can guess?”
“…….”
But there was no fire. That was always the problem. In this world, fire was still precious. Fire that neither burned people nor tormented them—fire that actually helped them—was rarer still.
“You there, stop!”
In the meantime, the knight who had been standing a little apart—as if wary of the Demon Knight—straightened his back. The soldiers did the same. They quickly pulled their discipline back into place and adjusted their grips on their weapons. Every nerve among them was fixed on the figure approaching at an awkward pace.
Judging by clothes and posture, the newcomer looked like nothing more than an adventurer of the lowest rank. The person froze in startled surprise.
“This is a restricted area!”
Once the stranger stopped, there was no need to keep the edge in their voices. Maintaining a moderate level of tension, one of the soldiers stepped forward.
“Um…….”
The newcomer’s eyes rolled around helplessly. The sheer awkwardness of the display almost made the earlier caution feel silly. Even Meister, who hadn’t been on edge like the soldiers, felt his tension drain away for no good reason.
“I-is it completely forbidden to come near?”
The voice that emerged was so servile it was almost flat on the ground. This was clearly not someone who had come bearing some great resolve. A short gray ponytail, hastily gathered and tied, swayed gently with every small movement of the head.
“If you have business, first identify yourself.”
“I-I’m an adventurer. One of the recent reinforcements.”
“Badge.”
“Here it is.”
The appearance screamed civilian with zero combat experience, yet the person carried a proper adventurer’s badge. Meister narrowed his eyes and observed the stranger. The conversation with the Demon Knight had fizzled out, making this possible.
Honestly, he would rather continue the earlier talk than study this greenhorn… but the Demon Knight didn’t seem ready.
“Reason for approaching?”
“W-well, I have something to deliver…….”
“To whom?”
“That person over there…….”
An adventurer with something for the Demon Knight, of all people. Meister searched for whatever the adventurer intended to hand over. A sizable package was being carried, so guessing the delivery item wasn’t hard. It was simply bound in leather, making the contents impossible to identify.
“…Ah.”
A soft sound of recognition came from behind. It belonged to the Demon Knight, and it didn’t feel negative. More precisely, it seemed he knew exactly what the adventurer had brought.
“Something important?”
“…Possibly.”
When he asked in a near-whisper, the answer that returned wasn’t a denial. That was enough.
“Uncertain items for a prisoner are not permit—”
“Ah, looks like the thing I ordered finally arrived.”
Meister opened his mouth with deliberate exaggeration. Of course, if it was something even the Demon Knight didn’t know about, there would be no reason to pass it along—it might be dangerous—but if he recognized it, then it ought to be delivered. That was a right any human being should enjoy. A right that must not be stripped away for a crime that wasn’t even a crime.
“You’ve got some real professional spirit. You could’ve just brought it later.”
With that, Meister pushed past the soldiers who tried to block him and approached the adventurer. The adventurer looked a little flustered, but quickly rearranged their expression into something more competent.
“I was told it was urgent… Since I spent the whole day looking for it and ended up late, I figured I should deliver it as soon as possible.”
“Right, thank you.”
Ah, so they do this job because they’re quick on the uptake. Meister awarded extra points for the competence as he accepted the package.
Of course the soldiers looked like they wanted to say something. Even that was settled when Meister shot a glare at Sergei, Sergei rolled his eyes, and then glared at the soldiers in turn.
“Meister, the conversation…….”
“Just a little more and we’ll be done. I don’t think I’ve been here that long, do you?”
Meister waved the adventurer off and moved back toward the bars. He could see the Demon Knight quietly lifting his head to look at him.
The faint outline of the face revealed by a distant torch stand was as sharp and unyielding as ever.
“…You.”
“Here.”
Meister pressed himself as close to the iron bars as possible so the soldiers couldn’t see him pass something to the Demon Knight. Fortunately the gaps between the bars were wide enough for an arm to go through.
“…….”
Now the problem was the other man. Even after all that effort, he hesitated, reluctant to stretch out his hand.
Dissolved into the darkness, the slender line of a figure barely revealed by the thin light twitched its fingers. The fingertips sank deep into the black or slid through the scarlet glow depending on the movement, like a night sky holding a meteor.
“You’re not taking it?”
But he did not like meteors. In his most wretched days the only thing that had given him hope was the star visible through a tiny window, and a meteor meant a star falling to earth. So he disliked them. Meister deliberately prodded the other man. At last the hesitant figure reached out.
“Nothing you can put inside, I assume?”
Naturally he didn’t hand over the wrapping leather as well. Since he had claimed it as his own to the soldiers, he would need something to show them on the way back.
“…….”
The Demon Knight took the contents—what looked like a bundle of papers—and kept silent for a moment.
“Take this.”
Then he offered something that could be put into the wrapping leather. All sorts of odds and ends. A handkerchief, a headscarf, specialty products and handicrafts from various regions. Things one wouldn’t even know how he had come to possess.
By that point Meister was so incredulous he couldn’t even laugh. He realized anew that the only reason the Demon Knight remained locked in that place was because he himself wished it so.
Not because of the iron bars, not because of the soldiers’ vigilance, not because he lacked the strength to escape—purely because he allowed it.
“…Thanks.”
And it seemed permission for conversation ended here as well. Meister turned away after the man who was already turning his back, still wondering what exactly that word of thanks had been for.
He had gained only a few clues, but now it was time to go back and think.
“If you’re grateful, then at least try to stay alive. I hate pointless deaths more than anything—especially the ones dressed up as ‘sacrifice for everyone.’”
I gave a bitter smile at Meister’s words. Sacrifice for everyone. Could this really be called a sacrifice for everyone?
Was it all right to wrap the simple desire to rest because I was exhausted in the packaging of sacrifice?
“…….”
Most people were trying to kill me, yet I didn’t regret the struggle I had made for everyone. From the start it had been less an effort for everyone and more an act born of knowing my own nature—that I couldn’t bear to watch people die.
Nor did I resent those who wanted to execute me. Of course people would be frightened of something overwhelmingly powerful they couldn’t resolve. Just as the people of old deified natural disasters or feared them as the work of demons. Just as they preferred to blame someone for committing a sin that incurred heaven’s wrath rather than seek the actual principle behind it.
Humans were that kind of animal by nature.
“Hey.”
But.
But…….
“Don’t even think about leaving.”
There were moments when, even if the raw malice and exclusionary attitude could be understood and accepted intellectually, it still became emotionally unbearable.
Even knowing that humans were originally like that, even knowing that this situation was more than enough to justify it, there still came a time when the heart simply could not accept it.
“Don’t worry.”
That didn’t mean I wanted to complain about how no one acknowledged my hardships. I didn’t want to regret what I had done and think, I shouldn’t have.
If I admitted that, then what would become of every effort I had made until now? My best? The desperate thrashing I had done to face the present?
“I have no intention of leaving.”
I did not want to watch every one of my actions turn meaningless. That was why I endured.
But my situation was already bad enough that I couldn’t even endure the flood of negative emotions. I didn’t want to bear that either. I didn’t even have the stamina for it. I didn’t want people to know how hard I had worked, but even reacting—getting angry at the curses, laughing them off—was too bothersome.
Yes. Enduring their hostility while still living was hard enough.
“Hah.”
So I exhaled a small breath, drew one knee up, and rested my head against it. In my hand was the information on the “Demon Knight” I had requested two months ago, but I felt little desire to read it. Even the work of learning something, interpreting it, and drawing inferences felt tedious.
The fact that if things continued this way the probability of dying was high only fed my apathy further. If I was going to die and become meaningless anyway, I didn’t want to bother using my head.
I just wanted to rest.
I buried my head against my knee and closed my eyes.
I missed my parents. My parents.
.
.
.
“Oh, Great Sage.”
“You’ve worked hard.”
…Yet the world seemed to have no intention of letting me rest.
In my half-sleep I felt the space behind me grow noisy again. Even though the night was late, someone had come looking for me.
“What brings you here…….”
“At the lord’s request, I’ve come to check on the condition.”
Judging by the voice, the visitor was a Great Sage. It didn’t sound like the Archmage; it was someone else.
But did I really have to respond to him? Did I have to deliberately shatter the meager peace that this quiet and solitude brought?
I curled my body a little tighter around the hollow emptiness of a stomach that had eaten nothing since waking. The sensation of hunger having gone past its limit until even the hunger itself could no longer be felt was surprisingly comfortable. As long as the restriction of not needing to move remained.
“Doesn’t seem like he’s sleeping. May I speak to him?”
“How can you tell he isn’t sleeping?”
“Because he looked at me.”
“…He’s facing the other way.”
“In the world you see, perhaps.”
But the other party showed no sign of backing down easily. Listening to the two voices exchanging words, I exhaled weakly.
I still didn’t want to deal with this.
“Hm. You, step back for now.”
“Pardon?”
“I need to speak with him alone, so either wait nearby or leave first. Just get some distance.”
“…Yes, well. If that’s the case. I’ll wait over there. Give me a signal when you’re ready to leave.”
…I didn’t want to deal with this.
“At last we can speak the two of us alone. I apologize for disturbing your rest. There are things that would be troublesome if overheard.”
I really didn’t want to deal with this.
“Well then. Are you truly not going to speak with me?”
Truly—
“Precious soul who has come from another world.”
Huh?