The Fangs Aimed at Zakrati

Baramson and Dev kept twitching their lips the entire time we rode. It was plain they wanted to stick their ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠oars into whatever business concerned the pearl.

Of course, after watching me split a fallen tree—an enormous one—right in the middle of the road with my bare hands, they finally abandoned the idea of wagging their tongues.

Yeah. When a man not only shatters a tree into splinters but lifts and flings aside a mass that would take three grown men to budge, nobody is going to open his mouth carelessly.

The side effect was that afterward the commander of Gamak Bay and the men escorting him sealed their lips as tight as oysters. Adventurers and pirates put even greater distance between themselves and me.

They had already been eyeing me warily for taking down the dragon alone; that wariness only hardened further.

Still, as far as the concept went, it was the correct thing to do.

It was a little lonely, but not bad.

Anyway—enough digression. The moment we reached Gryu Telz we sought out the lord of the city. We had come to collect what had been promised.

Even with the dragon’s head in front of him the lord still showed doubt, muttering about whether the thing was truly a dragon…

“If Your Lordship makes light of their sacrifices, the temple will not stand idly by.”

“If you decide it isn’t a dragon, then you hardly need it, do you? We can take it ourselves, right?!”

Faced with the stubborn priest who had insisted on tagging along and the mage whose eyes glittered as she tried to snatch the prize, the lord finally conceded.

Baramson looked faintly displeased at the priest’s and the Magic Tower’s meddling, yet also grateful for the help; the expression on his face was complicated.

“Ah, yes. You must not forget to pay a proper price to those who lent their strength to this affair.”

For the record, the reward question I had been fretting over was raised on our behalf by the temple priest.

Given how badly the temple had been hurt, they were probably using us as leverage to claim their own cut; still, if they secured mine as well I had no reason to object.

“Is it not only proper that half the carcass should go to the one who rendered the greatest service in the hunt? It is my considered judgment that such a share must be guaranteed to the man who faced the dragon almost alone.”

Especially since he made certain my portion was properly reserved.

“What?! Half? The Magic Tower was the one who maintained the ship’s barrier!”

“Ahem—yet we supplied the vessel itself…”

Once the talk turned to degrees of contribution, things were bound to grow tangled. Greed and the simple refusal to take a loss were mixed in; no clean decision would emerge quickly. It was obvious we would spend days wrangling at the least.

“It doesn’t look like a conclusion will come easily.”

Perhaps that was why Baramson bit his lip and shot me a sidelong glance. Given the value of what hung in the balance, and given that my walking away would amount to forfeiting the claim, he could hardly do otherwise.

“We depart.”

“Hold on—are you all right about the reward?”

“Did you have so much leisure that you could spare concern for me?”

But what choice was there? A contract was a contract.

Besides, I had already steeled myself for this yesterday, so it did not weigh on me too heavily… no, it was bitterly disappointing, but I simply let it go.

Equipment greed was the real reason; honestly a shop-bought sword would have been enough. Shop options are trash, true, yet my original longsword had been starter gear whose options were every bit as mediocre.

“…If you walk away like this, young master, I won’t get anything either. Ha—damn it.”

I felt a little sorry for Dev… if he wanted the pay, he could stay and collect it. I could not wait.

“…That.”

“Don’t bother saying you’re sorry. I know it can’t be helped. And I never expected to receive anything in the first place. You have to have done something to earn a share. I wasn’t really speaking out of greed.”

“…Then I’ll make sure your cut is covered on our side.”

“I won’t refuse that.”

“Thanks.”

“You ought to say that to the knight, not me.”

Baramson reached an understanding with Dev as well. Whether it was fortunate or not that Dev turned out less obsessed with reward than expected, I could not decide. That guy quietly takes a lot of losses too.

…I had anticipated the reward turning out this way and had already pocketed a few scales and teeth. Maybe I would gift them later. Concept-wise there would not be many chances to hand them over, though.

“Hey—divide the dragon corpse however you like. I intend to collect what was promised me.”

The moment I appeared to abandon the carcass—more precisely, the moment I declared I would follow Baramson and he announced he was leaving the city—the Magic Tower and the lord both nodded eagerly, as if the solution had been heaven-sent.

It was plain they considered a single ship given to Baramson a cheap price for the entire dragon.

“Then let us adjourn for a short while. I wish to see these people off.”

Thanks to that, the business that had seemed about to stall began to move again with brisk efficiency.

The priest walked with us a little way, intending to see us off.

“Hey.”

“Yes.”

“I will not thank you.”

“There is no need.”

The priest whose head still bore a cracked wound answered with a dry tongue, voice arid.

“I already know I have no right to such thanks.”

At this point I could not help wondering what had happened between the temple and the Yabad Region. What sort of incident could make one side hate so unilaterally and the other endure so silently?

This was worse than Somon. Even after it came out that civilians there had been sacrificed by corrupt priests, the non-victims never grovelled quite this thoroughly.

Could something still more terrible have taken place?

“May you remain safe.”

“Hmph.”

Baramson and the pirates did not even let the words brush their ears.

“Get aboard already!”

They simply climbed onto the ship the lord had provided. Lacking knowledge of vessels, I could not tell whether it was a fine ship or a poor one; I could tell the stores were amply stocked.

“Everyone—this is the last stretch. You’ve worked damn hard until now… just a little more.”

“You’re the one who’s worked hardest, Captain.”

“Don’t you worry about us!”

“Kwahahat! I rested proper the day before yesterday—I’m fine!”

Baramson and his men shared their final reflections. The adventurers who had not only joined the dragon hunt but followed all the way here, together with Dev and myself, watched them.

“Hell, I’ve been at this nearly twenty years and I’ve never taken commissions back-to-back like this.”

“Is taking them back-to-back the remarkable part? Nobody gets to join something like this.”

The whip-wielding adventurer sipping liquor beside him cackled.

“Dragon hunt, then Pirate King hunt. This is medal-of-honor material for sure.”

From the standpoint of someone who already possessed one such medal, I found it hard to relate. Dev’s eyes rolled lazily.

“Come to think of it, why did you people take this commission? If you were after medals, this alone should have been enough.”

I had been wondering the same thing. I had known the adventurers had joined long ago, yet never heard the reason. There had been no chance to ask, either.

I did not desperately need the answer, but neither would I refuse the chance to satisfy curiosity.

“If we leave now we won’t even collect the pay.”

“Uwahahat! Pay? The guild will receive it for us and hold it—no need to rush! Collecting after we return is plenty!”

“More than that… the dragon hunt—honestly, we didn’t do much.”

One of the adventurers said that while glancing my way. My cheeks stung.

“Of course, simply having been there is already the greatest achievement of our lives. Whatever commissions we take from now on, surpassing this will be impossible, won’t it?”

“What do you mean ‘won’t it?’ It is impossible. If I ever quit adventuring I’ll live the rest of my days talking about this. That I lent a hand to a legend.”

“Same here. Just because I didn’t do anything doesn’t mean this isn’t a legend.”

The man shrugged after that.

“It’s just… that. Since we got to walk with a legend, we want to see it through to the end, you know? Money can be earned any time. The chance to travel with the man who hunted a dragon comes only once.”

His gaze was still on me. That was why, probably, my cheeks still burned.

Even if he had not been looking, my face would have flushed. Protagonist-type characters are supposed to rack up deeds, receive praise, and be admired—but do they get elevated quite this high? Not really.

Most of the time those fellows treat the real protagonist so shabbily it borders on stinginess.

“…That’s so.”

“I’m more curious about your side. How did you end up traveling together? Doesn’t look like an easy pairing.”

“It’s a little difficult, yeah. More than that… how did we end up together in the first place…”

Oh—this! ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠This I absolutely had to hear! I pretended indifference and pricked up my ears. Raise the sails! The cry announcing departure rang in my ears.

“I think it’s much the same for me.”

Yet the answer that finally returned was maddeningly vague. I clicked my tongue in disappointment. The ship began to cut through the waves.

“Hey—before we reach Zakrati there’s something we need to discuss about how we’ll proceed.”

We had filled our bellies on the abundant stores for supper, or so it seemed.

Around the hour when most would turn in, Baramson quietly summoned me.

“I gave you the rough outline, but skipped the details for lack of time. I wanted to talk about those.”

Why now of all moments, I wondered… yet once we reached Zakrati it would be too late. Even speaking now was already overdue.

I stepped out of the private cabin Baramson had given me. The seasickness I had been ignoring by sleeping alone immediately slammed into my gut.

“Well—now that our last guest has arrived, shall we begin?”

Looking around, I saw he had not called me alone. Of course not. I was hardly the only one on this commission.

“Everyone, gather over here.”

Baramson collected the people scattered throughout the captain’s cabin. A round table sat among the circle they formed.

Clack.

A map and a lamp were set upon the table.

I stepped back, leaned against the wall, and watched. The cabin was not especially large, yet everyone thoughtfully cleared the line of sight, so I could see without trouble.

“This is the full map of the Yabad Region.”

At Baramson’s words I studied the chart carefully.

If this were Earth it would resemble the Philippines—island after island filling the parchment. Overall it formed a shape like the letter Z.

“Here is Zakrati.”

He stabbed a finger down on one spot.

If you poked a point in the blank space between the middle diagonal and the bottom stroke of a Z, you would land roughly where Baramson had indicated.

“And the territory Bipurit holds is Montata Island, which nearly encircles Zakrati.”

He swept his hand across the cluster of islands surrounding Zakrati. If that was Bipurit’s domain, then Zakrati was effectively under siege.

The talk about how hard it was to receive aid from other cities suddenly made sense.

“Originally I planned to gather only the skilled and burn Bipurit’s base over here. Collapse the gang holding that point and the forces of Ruwan Castle can push through.”

“Originally? Meaning things have changed?”

An adventurer asked; Baramson shrugged.

“Depends on your answers.”

“So you’ve got another idea already. Spit it out.”

“The second plan isn’t much different. Only the place we strike changes.”

He jabbed a finger down again—dead center of Montata Island. On the Z it would be the lower tip.

“What happens if we hit there?”

“We can take Bipurit by the throat.”

…In other words, strike the main nest itself?

“Of course I’ll follow your decision. Whichever we choose, a path opens for Zakrati.”

I tried to think while leaning against the wall. I would have managed it if every person in the cabin had not been watching me for cues.

Why even the adventurers? I had heard their sincere confession that they wanted to be present wherever I acted—but shouldn’t they still worry about their own lives?

If I said “charge,” would they follow?

“Speak clearly.”

Honestly. I don’t know. You’re the ones who kept silent.

“Whether what you desire is the salvation of Zakrati, or the death of Bipurit and his entire pack.”

“…Isn’t the question pointless? To save Zakrati we have to kill Bipurit.”

“Wrong.”

Ah—Vikings used to compose verse and supposedly possessed high literary refinement, yet Baramson, pirate though he is, cannot catch this nuance of difference.

I grumbled inwardly, straightened from the wall, and approached the table. My face remained an ice sheet, as always.

Thunk!

A dagger punched through the map and buried itself in the wood.

The point it pierced was the first location Baramson had suggested we strike.

“If you speak of Zakrati’s salvation—”

Still gripping the hilt, I slid the blade gently. A trickle of mana made the table gouge as if I were slicing soft radish; the map parted in a smooth cut.

The dagger’s final destination was of course the main stronghold where Bipurit waited.

“—then I will move thus.”

Thunk.

I drew the blade free.

“If you speak of Bipurit’s death, the reverse becomes true.”

In short: I would kill them all either way. The difference was whether we first opened the road for reinforcements, or first crushed Bipurit.

They might look identical, yet they were not. Choose the former and Bipurit had a chance to flee while I advanced. If he fled, I would not pursue.

Choose the latter and Zakrati would have to hold out longer while I finished Bipurit and then pushed forward.

Either way, the choice belonged to Baramson.

“…I’m going mad.”

Understanding at last, Baramson’s lips trembled. He had not failed to expect that I would handle everything; he simply had not expected options like these to be laid before him.

“There are hundreds of pirates.”

“And?”

“They even built a water fortress.”

“Amusing.”

“And you’re still fine with that?”

I let displeasure color my voice, as though the question itself were an insult—how dare he ask again.

My brows twitched and rose into a savage line.

“Do insects cease to be insects merely because they swarm? The one who will not be fine is not me.”

With that I flicked the dagger as if casting it aside. It rang and skittered across the table until it stopped right in front of Baramson’s hand.

“Choose.”

At my urging he slowly reached out. Five fingers closed around the hilt; then he squeezed his eyes shut.

Thunk!

The dagger drove into the map.

“I’d love nothing better than to flay that bastard Bipurit and hang his hide from the ship’s side… but.”

The blade had struck the choke point that must be opened if reinforcements were ever to arrive.

“I feel I could manage that someday even without your help.”

The decision was made.

“Commission accepted.”

I snatched the embedded dagger free. The map I glimpsed while doing so had grown rather tattered… well. Let’s call it a minor bit of spite and move on. Once the city was saved, what was one sheet of parchment?

“Is that all you had to say?”

“For the moment, yes…”

“Then I am leaving.”

More than map damages or anything else, the seasickness I had been holding at bay was surging up. I had endured under the banner of dignity, but this was past the limit.

I was going back to bed.

Baramson stared blankly at the space the Demon Knight had vacated. Even for the sake of pride he had half expected the man would not offer to hit ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠both targets; the actual result far exceeded imagination.

Because of it he had even forgotten the remaining points he had meant to discuss tonight. There was not much left, and several days still remained, so he could pass the information along later—yet the dazed feeling refused to leave.

“Man, why’d you even call us?”

In the pause the hooded youth opened his mouth lightly. Not a complaint; more a bit of banter meant to clear the awkward air. Playfulness colored the tone.

“Then why don’t you offer a better plan yourself. If it’s superior to the Demon Knight’s, I’ll consider it.”

Baramson accepted the jab with gratitude. Though he had been overwhelmed and ended up agreeing with the knight, the words he had spoken earlier to the adventurers had not been empty.

As the ones who would actually carry out the operation, he intended to reflect their opinions as much as possible. Giving up or stalling, of course, would get them cut out.

“There isn’t really a choice, is there?”

“What are you talking about? I gave you a choice.”

He looked around at the other adventurers, the glance an invitation to speak now if they had anything to say.

“No objections here.”

“I’m fine with it.”

One by one the adventurers declared they had none.

“You people really have no complaints? Amazing.”

“Uwahahat! Complaints about what? How common do you think something like this is? If you hate it, quit being an adventurer.”

“When we take commissions from high-and-mighty types we don’t even get to sit in on meetings like this. Compared to that, this is better.”

“Yeah, yeah. Back then half the time we wait outside until the talking’s done and then get orders handed down one-way—even though our lives are on the line.”

“We still got one-way orders just now, but somehow this feels ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠all right.”

“Having some fellow who won’t even join the fight bark commands is different from hearing it from the man who’ll stand at the front.”

“Well… that’s true.”

“Looking at you, you haven’t taken many commissions like this, have you?”

Baramson thought he finally understood why the Demon Knight put up with the youth. The skill of herding opinion with light jokes was no ordinary talent. Even those who had felt a flicker of inner resistance would convince themselves with the reasons they themselves had just voiced.

“More than anything—if I’m with that man, I don’t feel like I’ll die easily no matter what plan we pick.”

Well… he would not deny that there existed a level of force for which such careful work was unnecessary.

“Then we’ll go with this. Night’s getting late, so let’s break for today. If something comes up I’ll call again.”

In any case, with the Demon Knight gone it felt pointless to talk further. Baramson opened the captain’s cabin door.

“Hey.”

Then, on impulse, he caught the last hooded youth as the man was leaving.

“Even if I draw up a plan, will that bastard listen?”

The answer came at once.

“Just hand over whatever information you’ve got. He’s not the sort who takes orders.”

Baramson heard it and burst out laughing.

“Is that enough?”

“If there’s anyone among the enemy who can stop that human, then at that point no plan you throw at him will ever be enough.”

It was the perfect answer.