If They Exist (4)
I barely made it to the city of Manahfelt, and the first thing I did was catch my breath.
Walking the highway with my Disguise Skill deactivated, I'd run into a subjugation party dispatched to hunt a demon—not me; the one supposedly appearing along that stretch of road was their target—and nearly jumped out of my skin.
Good thing I'd triggered the Disguise Skill before they saw me. Otherwise a wanted notice would have gone out on the spot. That they mistook my Demon Energy for the demon they'd already been tracking was just as fortunate.
I couldn't have been luckier if I'd tried.
"Well. I made it, so that counts for something..."
I adjusted the weight of the glasses—unfamiliar and yet familiar—on my face. A soft rustle. My half-tied hair (the wig) and cloak swayed with the breeze.
"Ugh."
But the wind wasn't entirely welcome. If my hairline showed, I'd be in serious trouble.
My hands hurried to press down the bangs and the crown of my head. Between the gloves I couldn't remove and my scalp, I felt a few securing pins.
"Next!"
Meanwhile, the person right in front of me stepped into the checkpoint. True to a city bordering Maryeok, a priest stood alongside the guards. Where the guards inspected identity and safety, he screened for impurity.
"I sense no impurity."
"Good. Next!"
Perhaps because of incidents in other cities, the priest searched luggage with painful thoroughness and didn't hesitate to bathe anyone even mildly suspicious in Holy Power. My throat worked in an involuntary swallow.
"Next!"
But looking too frightened here would only make me more suspicious.
I gripped my bag strap hard with both hands and walked forward. To set myself apart from the Demon Knight, who strode with confidence wherever he went, I deliberately rounded my waist and shoulders—not unnaturally so; just the level of an ordinary person who'd lived a crooked life.
"...You're pretty tall."
"Makes things a bit inconvenient, yeah."
Luckily, a guard who looked good-natured drew me as his charge.
So I crinkled the corners of my eyes as warmly as I could. Knowing my height and build were extremely rare among the Middle people, the performance grew all the more desperate.
"Where did you come from?"
"I'm on the road from Schubruken."
"Reason for visit?"
"I heard there's a knight academy here..."
Separately, answering these little questions always made me think of airport immigration...
I answered wholeheartedly with the skills honed from passing through several castles. The stricter interrogation compared to other cities made me dizzy at times, but overall the screening proceeded smoothly enough.
It was fortunate this world didn't have people's identities properly registered. Some places were so lax I wondered if this was really all right.
"Your hand."
Then someone who'd only been watching everyone from a corner of the checkpoint approached. Full plate, a sword, and the authority that made the guards snap to with a single word. A knight, most likely.
"Remove your gloves and show me your hands."
But why had such a knight singled me out of all people? Swallowing the urge to cry, I fumbled the gloves off. Skin whitened by the Disguise Skill was revealed.
"A hand that's held a sword. For a very long time."
Just because my skin had gone pale didn't mean the calluses on my hands had vanished.
Between index finger and thumb, across the fingers, the palm—calluses and scars characteristically etched into my hand briefly revealed my... no, the Demon Knight's life. Parts I hadn't managed to hide, or simply couldn't.
My eyes met the knight's.
"Anything else to say?"
"...I've given every answer I can provide."
But I couldn't yield to this. Quietly, I removed my glasses with my right hand and wiped the dust from them.
Since this, too, was judged as contact with my hand—that is, my skin—my eyes remained green. The knight's blue irises reflected mine and shone blue-green, so it was certain.
"So you really came just because you wanted to see it?"
"Hmm... I think there might be some misunderstanding."
But what exactly was this man suspecting me for? What was strange about a guy who'd lived off the sword for a few years coming to look at a knight academy?
...Ah. Just the fact that I'd hidden my combat ability was suspicious?
"Just because I've held a sword for a long time..."
Then I'd simply have to demolish the foundation of that suspicion. With that thought, I put the glasses back on. Mana circulated through my body a few times—then reversed course.
"Doesn't mean I can still swing one, cough."
Ah, long live mana reverse flow!
I coughed up a stream of blood and smiled as pitifully as I could. Sensing me move mana, the knight who'd carefully shifted his hand to his sword hilt looked startled. So did the soldier behind him, and the priest who'd just finished inspecting and sending off another person.
"Th-that's—?"
"I don't know exactly myself. But every time I handle mana, my insides turn over."
"W-wait, if you know that, why—"
Because showing it directly is more effective, that's why.
I wiped the blood running from my mouth with my sleeve and slightly adjusted my expression. It was the face of someone resigned over something he could never have—and thus carrying a certain bitterness.
"Even without using mana, the problem remains the same."
Of course, the voice I produced in that state held absolutely no moisture. The tone of someone who'd given up long ago and grown calm would feel more poignant than someone still clinging and emotional.
"The problem remains even without using mana...?"
"I'm not sure of the details... but a mage who passed by said that as long as there's mana in my body, it'll keep breaking down. Said it's a constitution issue that can't be fixed."
Good. Looking at the knight's eyes, this seemed to have landed pretty well. I wore a hazy smile to drive the final nail.
"But... even knowing it's impossible, you still get the urge to hold it in your eyes, don't you?"
There. A young man whose constitution meant he could never become a knight—who even had his past efforts denied—yet still couldn't abandon his remaining attachment, and so set out on this journey. Could he really keep suspecting me in the face of this narrative?
"You..."
I politely declined the priest who approached wanting to heal me—with a message of You still have duties to perform here; you shouldn't expend your strength carelessly. I'm fine—and looked at the knight again.
Perhaps the part about coming to hold it in his eyes because he simply couldn't give up had struck a deep chord of empathy; the knight's eyes had somehow grown moist. What a sensitive knight he was.
"Hang in there."
"You look so young, really..."
But I succeeded in shedding the suspicion and passing through. Wasn't that enough?
Receiving the pitying gazes of the people around me, I left the checkpoint. Now I just needed to secure an inn room, and at last it would be time to track.
In the end, it meant pretend to cooperate with the Hero while looking out for the Demon Knight. Meister summarized the request his grandfather had conveyed in such a roundabout fashion.
Considering the item he'd been commissioned for and the person it was meant for, there was no room for misunderstanding. This was clearly an order to help the Demon Knight.
"Oh, come on..."
A better choice for your life? Seeing a world you haven't experienced?
The justifications were nice. Though they were ultimately excuses cooked up to send him on this errand.
"..."
...Or rather, excuses that included pure truth and sincerity.
"Ha."
Meister squatted down, searching for a cigarette he didn't have. He'd belatedly realized that the thoughts he'd just had were no different from a child's tantrum.
No—he hadn't exactly realized it. Knowing the truth and deliberately, unavoidably thinking discontented thoughts: that was what he'd just done.
"I'm not a damn kid..."
Not some little brother jealous of a sibling. What was this? He rubbed his cheeks that threatened to burn with his palm and pouted his lips.
But honestly, wasn't this Grandfather's fault first? If he'd said it in a different order, wouldn't it have looked like he was looking out for me rather than the Demon Knight?
The brief embarrassment passed through his nature that loved turning tables, and before he knew it had manifested as irritation toward his grandfather.
"What the hell did that bastard even do..."
And once again, questions about the Demon Knight rose up.
What on earth was that guy's identity that his grandfather would go this far for him? Giving a holy power filter to someone who housed a demon—who'd even shown the possibility of losing control—meant ultimately accepting that level of risk. Just how valuable a being did he have to be for such a judgment to be made?
"Some fallen god or something..."
He thought this every time, but he really had no idea. Meister's face held a subtle irritation.
"Meister-nim!"
But even that irritation was less than the stress he'd gain by remaining here. As Grandfather had said, he didn't have much attachment to this city.
"Meister-nim, so you were here! The temporary lord is requesting Meister-nim's cooperation—"
"Ah, about that."
"Yes?"
"Please tell them I can't help."
"Excuse me?"
And so Meister smiled brightly.
"W-why..."
"I've done enough. I'm just going to leave the city. The workshop's all wrecked anyway."
Grandfather's help had been involved a little—okay, a little quite a lot—but.
Anyway, he was free now.
"It's huge..."
The moment I took in the Chechebator Knight Academy, I was a bit surprised. I'd expected a middle-or-high-school building at most, but it was bigger than I thought.
Or maybe it looked bigger because the walls and buildings were built right up against each other. Normally it would be wall, then training ground, then building—but here they weren't showing the grounds at all.
"Cheap, cheap—you there, young man, want one too?"
"Ah, one with vegetable pickles, please."
I was looking at the massive school—more like a barracks in some ways—built into the castle walls when I bought a snack from a stall in front of it. Bread with the inside hollowed out and filled with fruit and vegetable pickles.
Crunch.
Oh, a bit sour. When I took a bite, the sourness rising made me instinctively scrunch my eyes. The fact that I didn't have to force myself to endure it brought a small happiness. The sweetness that followed the sourness delighted my tongue and inflated that happiness a little more.
Hehe. Delicious.
"Young man, you eat well."
"It's incredibly tasty."
"Of course! If it doesn't taste good around here, you go under."
"Really?"
I didn't think it'd go under easily just from customers coming to see the knight academy. At my look, the stall owner waved his hands.
"More of the soldiers and knight lords buy than the transient customers."
"Ah..."
Right—this was right in front of the school. If it didn't taste good, the main customer base wouldn't come.
"The building is enormous."
I quickly finished one loaf, bought a new one, and casually struck up conversation. Perhaps because it was an awkward time for customers, the shop owner was happy to engage.
"There's a soldier training facility with it too."
"Aha."
"So, are you interested in that place too, young man?"
"...It's not that I'm uninterested."
"I see. But the recruitment period is over now... you'll have to wait a bit."
"If I wait, will spots open up?"
"Depends on how hard the demons hit us."
Demons? I tried to gauge what that had to do with anything when the word appeared out of nowhere. If people die, empty spots will naturally appear. The realization came half a beat later.
"...I see."
"Still, soldier positions open up pretty often... if you're thinking of settling, give it a try. No matter where you rolled in from or what you did before. Survive five years or more as a soldier without causing trouble, and this city grants you citizenship."
How should I put it. Truly a city bordering Maryeok. The fact that many people died was fully visible in the systems and the way people talked.
"If you want to be a knight rather than a soldier, you don't really need to wait... but that costs quite a bit of money."
Meanwhile the owner continued chattering. A glance. His gaze touched my earring and immediately fell away.
"Well. Doesn't look like money will be a problem for you..."
"...?"
"If you think you're short—if it really won't work out—try finding Sir Walter. He often sponsors young people with talent who can't afford school. Of course he has his own standards and doesn't take everyone..."
"There's such an excellent person here."
"An excellent person indeed. Well... a guy like me can't really understand how someone makes that their pastime."
Separately, was it okay to take people in like that while leaving the knight academy alone? I harbored a slight doubt and roughly let it go. If it worked, it worked.
"Given my circumstances that would be difficult... May I ask how long you've been doing business here?"
Above all, I hadn't come here to attend school. My real business was separate.
"About twenty years?"
"Twenty years—that's traditional."
"Not enough to call it tradition."
"Still. You seem like the local fixture who practically runs this place."
"Kehehehm. I am... something of that sort, yeah."
I quietly asked while gently scraping the surface of the bread I was holding with my thumbnail. Perhaps because of the earlier praise. The shop owner, looking rather pleased, seemed ready to answer whatever I asked.
"So, if you've been here twenty years... you must know a lot about what happened in this city?"
"I know as much as I know?"
Then I should seize that opportunity immediately.
I opened my mouth, groping for an opening cinematic I barely remembered anymore.
"Then... have you ever heard of an incident where a family with three knights in it all died or went missing overnight?"
The voice that spilled out grew unexpectedly bleak on its own.