From the Beginning (3)

The moment Blue Moon Watia laid eyes on Baramson, she clenched her teeth so hard her jaw trembled and her face twisted with raw emotion.

Baramson was no different. His brown eyes rippled like a reed field in a high wind.

"Thank God you're alive."

"Same here. Same here."

The two of them crushed each other in a tight embrace, pounding each other's backs. It was not a long hug, but even that brief contact said everything about the bond between them.

"More importantly, what are you doing here…? Ah—of course! You said you were sending people to the mainland. You actually pulled it off? Makes sense. I kept wondering how someone that strong could be a complete stranger to me. So you were the one who brought them!"

In the same breath, Blue Moon had already pieced together my identity—or at least my origin. She must have known about the mission Baramson had been given.

The look she turned on me softened considerably.

"And the people, too…"

Of course, that warmth lasted only a moment. The eyes that had been fixed on Baramson, on me, and on the rescued prisoners snapped to the Inquisitor.

And of all times, it had to be while the Inquisitor was channeling her holy power to heal the wounded.

"A temple dog—!"

The roar of pure fury rolled out like thunder. Baramson's turn to suffer had arrived.

"I'll be watching you very carefully, temple hound!"

Fortunately, a few minutes later, after Baramson's desperate persuasion, Blue Moon finally managed to accept the situation.

Accept it—and nothing more. Her temper still clearly hadn't cooled. The moment the conversation ended she spun on her heel.

Resentment ground itself raw at the corner of her mouth.

"Get ready! We're heading back to base!"

Meanwhile, her subordinates—who had been glaring daggers at the Inquisitor—started gesturing the civilians into order. Just as I'd hoped, they stepped up and took our biggest problem off our hands.

In exchange they claimed the mules and the wagon, but I let them go without a fight. They would be far more useful to them than to us.

"One less thing to worry about."

Dev squatted down beside me and muttered it half to himself. Whether he meant the civilians' safety or the successful persuasion of Blue Moon, I couldn't tell.

"I'm sorry. This is my fault."

"If you know that, then act like it."

"I wasn't talking to you."

"What? So you're not sorry toward me?"

"Th-that—!"

Well… what did the Inquisitor even have to apologize to me for? Blue Moon's hostility was aimed squarely at the temple; Dev and I weren't included in it.

Granted, when I'd butted in the way Baramson had and said something, I'd drawn a few vicious looks of my own—but that was my own fault.

"Hey."

While that was going on, Baramson came over—drained pale from the effort of holding Blue Moon back. Truth be told, he hadn't fully forgiven the Inquisitor himself, so reining her in must have been twice as hard.

"If you don't mind… could you escort them as far as the base? You know how thick the forest is with demons. Even right now there are packs trying to push in."

Probably drawn by how loudly Blue Moon had been shouting. That was exactly why I'd forced myself into the argument even while screaming internally about breaking character.

"And… we also need to warn them about the temple forces coming up behind us. Knowing Watia's temper, she's going to assume this one is the only one."

Right. Wait a second. She'd blown up this hard over just one person? If she ran into the rest of the temple contingent without any warning, it was going to be pure chaos.

"Uh, I don't particularly mind. If anything, it'd make interrogating that guy easier, so I'm fine with it."

"I'm fine as well."

Both of them agreed at once—then glanced sideways at me. Clearly worried I would declare that protecting people was none of my business and simply walk away.

"More than that, if these are the resistance, they'll know the situation in Montata inside and out. I think stopping by is more than worth it."

Baramson was just as anxious about that point as the rest of us. He pressed on without missing a beat.

He seemed to have finally started figuring out how my roleplay worked. Instead of appealing to emotion, he was offering efficiency—the most effective way to hunt demons.

On top of everything, a quest had even been added—optional or not.

"Tch."

I had no real choice but to accept.

I clicked my tongue once at the thought of heading back, but I dropped any posture of leaving alone. Realizing his persuasion had worked, Baramson let out a quiet breath of relief.

"…Then let's go."

As if on cue, Blue Moon's group finished gathering the civilians and began leaving the area.

The four of us fell in at the rear of the column.

"Not only is there an entrance in what looked like a sheer cliff—there's a whole bay inside? And this place is way bigger than I expected."

"…Good. So many people made it out alive."

After several hours of walking, the base we arrived at was even more massive than expected. A dozen or more ships lined the water, and hundreds of people moved about the docks.

Pride lit Blue Moon's face.

"A secret port only pirates know about—city folk have no idea it exists. Given the situation, we're using it as both a resistance base and a civilian shelter."

It made perfect sense.

The narrow entrance made it extremely easy to defend, and they had fortified it thoroughly. At this level it was safer than most castles.

Thoom.

A deep drum-like resonance rolled through the air as the location name and quest updated.

"I heard a lot of pirates defected. Don't the ones who switched sides know about this place?"

"Ah, don't worry about that. The only pirates who know are our own brothers. And as far as I know, not a single one of our brothers has turned traitor."

"That's a relief, then."

Except that sentence was basically a death flag for a traitor appearing.

I hoped it would stay a baseless worry, but my gut was already sour.

"First we should talk to whoever's in charge of this place…"

"Sister Watia! You're back!"

"Chimawa. Yeah—I brought your brother, too!"

"Huh? Who else… Wait—is that—! Suriya, big brother!"

"Chimawa! You were here too!"

"Haha! I came with Sister!"

Why did this feel so filthy? The itch in my right arm only doubled the sensation. Something was about to explode any second.

"More importantly, Brother—why do you always show up at the worst possible timing?"

"Since when do pirates care about timing?"

"Uwahaha, fair enough."

"What the hell is all this?"

"What d'you mean, what—wait. Lahong? Damn, Lahong's here too? And over there—that's that ugly bastard's ship. Hell, every pirate who didn't defect must be gathered here."

"Not just pirates. Parts of the city garrison came too, protecting the civilians…"

"Blue Moon. Baramson. Stop chatting among yourselves and explain the one behind you. Why is there a woman wearing the temple's crest?"

"Huh? That's for real? Brother! What the hell is going on!"

"Whoa, whoa—calm down. Just listen for a second—"

Clang-clang-clang-clang-clang.

"…!"

Correction.

It had started.

"Demons! Demons flying in!"

"Ten ships approaching from this side! They're not registered!"

Reports piled in with the pealing of the bells. The scattered screams and wails were the same brand of despair we had already lived through before arriving here.

"How did they find this place!"

"Damn it—so they finally found us too."

"…Of all times!"

"I told you Brother's timing is the worst."

Every captain present spat out a line, then lifted their heads again as one.

"You lot—seal the entrance! And you! Guide the civilians!"

"Yes, sir!"

"Fetch weapons and prepare for battle! Demons are coming!"

"Bring the weapons!"

"You too—arm yourselves, now!"

Captains were the kind of people who could find a path to shore even across open ocean. This time, too, they barked orders with desperate urgency, hunting for a way to live.

They seemed to have forgotten we even existed for the moment. Given the circumstances, that was fair.

"Boss! Outlaw! Ah—Blue Moon too! Get to Dock Four at once! The guard captain and the other captains are already gathering!"

"On our way!"

"Baramson! You come too!"

The captains issued the most urgent orders first, then bolted off somewhere. Probably every captain in the port was convening to plan a response.

"Demon Knight."

Just then, Baramson—who had been about to run—twisted around and reached for my arm.

I pulled it free before he could grab it, as always. He gave that same half-scowling smile at the familiar reaction.

"I'm counting on you."

"Unnecessary."

"Heh. Fine."

Counting on me for what? I was the one who should be begging for a chance to kill something.

With that idle thought, I started walking—not the way Baramson had gone, but toward the docks.

"I will go with you as well."

Yeah, do whatever you want. Just don't get me shot full of arrows for fighting alongside a priestess.

"I'll go eavesdrop on the captains' talk."

"Eave—eavesdrop?!"

"We need to know how they plan to fight, don't we? I'll listen in, find the weak points, and bring them back. You two start fighting first!"

"…If that's the case, very well."

The rigid Inquisitor finally accepted it and let Dev go. My feet were already carrying me straight toward the docks. No one tried to stop us—they didn't have the attention to spare.

"Who the hell are you? Never seen your faces!"

"Baramson sent us."

"Baramson? Oh—so he joined up recently too? But why's that crest of the temple on ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠her clothes…"

I watched the Inquisitor prepare to confess the truth and throw the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠ready pirates into confusion—and drew my sword.

"Board the ships! We have to block the bay so they can't get in!"

Luckily, one of the vessels about to sail out and seal the bay was moored at the very dock I was standing on.

"Is it all right if we board like this?"

"Then stay behind."

"I-I'll board."

I blended in as if I were just another pirate and climbed aboard. Of course I didn't do any actual work. I didn't know how, and it didn't fit the character.

"What are you two doing just standing there—help!"

Naturally the Inquisitor tried. She simply lacked the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠skill, so she failed.

"Shit, why the hell did you board?!"

"T-to fight…"

"Damn it—are you a mercenary?!"

"For now… an adventurer."

"Hell. Then get out of the way and don't interfere!"

"A-all right!"

Oh man, our dumpling's about to burst a seam.

I muttered the thought to myself as I watched three ships—including the one I was on—try to leave the bay at the same time. Light mental chatter to bleed off the tension.

"Row!"

The ships cast off.

"Brace for impact!"

And almost immediately they came to a forced stop. Boom! The deck shuddered hard; wood cracked and splintered as part of the gunwale tore away.

"Done!"

It was a collision between ships—and the crew cheered anyway. When an accident is intentional, of course you celebrate.

"The bay is blocked!"

"Get into position!"

The mouth of the bay that sheltered the secret port was barely wide enough for two ships to pass if they crossed carefully. The moment three vessels tried to leave at once, they inevitably jammed together.

In other words, the ships themselves had become a barricade sealing the bay.

A last stand—but nothing could have been more effective.

For the ten approaching ships to get through, they would either have to smash these vessels and sink them, or board them and swim the remaining stretch to the harbor.

Kyaaaaak!

Around then, the flying demons finally came into clear view. Gargoyles as a baseline; demons shaped like dragons; monsters that looked like eagles.

There were so many of them it felt like watching a flock of seagulls—or pigeons—swarming a roadside for shrimp chips.

"D-damn it. There's too many."

"Shit… can we even hold?"

Ten ships and a sky black with demons. The sailors gripped their weapons tighter and still shook.

The morale that had soared when they sealed the bay was already collapsing under the sheer difference in numbers.

"Get your heads on straight, you bastards! We don't have a choice! We hold—no matter what!"

But when an unknown captain—his clothes far too ornate for a common sailor—joined them by boat, fighting spirit flared back to life.

"Haha! Were you all waiting for me?"

And then a strikingly handsome young man with long curly hair and bright golden-brown eyes—Outlaw Chimawa—fell into the battle line as well.

"Let's have ourselves a good time!"

"Yeah!"

His tone was absurdly playful for the situation, and that was exactly why it worked. Sometimes the only way to endure something too heavy is to force yourself to treat it lightly.

The pirates armed themselves with bows and blades and prepared for the decisive fight. A quick glance back at the harbor showed civilians herded to one side while a defensive formation formed around them.

"Demon Knight."

Meanwhile the Inquisitor drove the shield she carried on her back into the center of the deck with a heavy thud. A portion of the holy power sealed inside her body became vividly, unmistakably present.

Even the faint seepage from everything she kept packed down was dense and oppressive. Almost unpleasant.

"No one gets past me."

"They're coming!"

"B-bows!"

"Loose!"

But the discomfort lasted only a moment. That single line was more reassuring than anything else.

As long as the Inquisitor held the line, we wouldn't get a GAME OVER from too many civilian deaths. Probably.

"So go wild to your heart's content!"

"Look out!!"

The first wyvern to reach the ship dove straight at me in a blur.

Kyaaaaak—?!

Slash!

Still locked in its diving posture, the creature's body split cleanly in two. Thud. Two chunks of meat rolled across the deck, and in my hand a blade of silver-white radiance gleamed.

"…!"

"Ah—the demon…"

Screee. The metallic cry of the scimitar was familiar by now.

"So my tongue has finally found its use."

"…!"

The Inquisitor's face lit up brilliantly—and at the same instant my body launched into the air. Crack. A harpy's throat was crushed under a boot, then its brow was pierced, and it plummeted.

"Victory to my blade."

The hem of my coat—split into three like a tail, or like wings—fluttered as my body rose higher.

It was the overture to a ballroom dance high above the world.

"Death to the demons…!"

The slaughter in the sky ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠began.