Popcorn Holds a Deep Grudge
Popcorn holds a deep grudge.
Even after Ji-geu shouted that I was a mage, the crowd stayed silent for a long moment.
The lead bandit stared with his eyes wide, stunned.
“D-did you see that? There was nothing there, but the guy just flew through the air and slammed into the ground.”
Someone muttered in the quiet, and that broke the dam.
“Is it true?”
“It’s a mage.”
“A real mage.”
“There was a mage among us.”
“But why would a mage be in a place like this?”
“Must have committed a crime. Killed a few hundred people, probably.”
“He didn’t look like that kind of person, though.”
All at once the clearing erupted like a marketplace at noon. People kept stealing fearful glances at me. A moment ago I had been the poor soul who’d been dumped in the desert. Now I was suddenly a dangerous criminal.
While the crowd buzzed, Ji-geu came running up.
“Mister! What kind of magic was that just now?”
“......”
To people who couldn’t see spirits, it must have looked as if I had done nothing and the man had simply flown off and crashed. To a child’s eyes it would have seemed even more impressive. But it wasn’t magic. And I couldn’t explain about the spirits, either. If I told them I could see spirits and that one had sent the man flying, they would have decided I was insane.
Yeah. That does sound insane.
Still, I didn’t want to lie to the boy, so I answered awkwardly.
“That wasn’t magic. I’m not a mage.”
“Yeah, I know. It’s a secret, right?”
Ji-geu nodded with complete conviction. He seemed utterly certain that I was a mage.
From somewhere in the crowd a voice rang out.
“He must have come here after committing a crime. That’s why he can’t reveal it.”
“With wind like that, maybe five hundred people?”
“They wouldn’t exile a mage for five hundred deaths. Had to be thousands. Tens of thousands, even.”
The whispers were spiraling in a very strange direction.
“But he really doesn’t look like someone who’d do that.”
“Mages don’t kill with their hands. They’d just blow people away like that. No blood on their face.”
“Do mages from other countries all dress like him?”
“Probably only mages wear those clothes. Maybe it makes their magic stronger.”
“You think he really killed ten thousand and got exiled?”
“I bet he leveled an entire city with that wind.”
Ji-geu’s eyes sparkled when he heard them.
“Mister, how many people did you kill?”
“...Not a single one.”
One man had died, but that had been his own fault. He’d tried to kill me and fallen down the stairs himself.
“Is that a secret too?”
Ji-geu asked, looking a little disappointed.
“It’s the truth. I’ve never killed anyone. And I’m not a mage.”
I spoke louder so the others could hear, but no one seemed convinced.
“Well, it’s not like he killed them with his bare hands, so technically he’s not lying. Maybe he doesn’t even know the exact number himself.”
Someone offered what sounded like support, but the content was hardly flattering. No matter what I said, they weren’t going to believe me. And if they asked what it had been if not magic, I would be in trouble.
Besides, there was something more urgent right now.
I had to deal with the bandits.
The moment I took one step toward them, the men who had been so arrogant earlier scrambled backward in a panic.
“S-stay back! Come any closer and I’ll kill you!”
One of them thrust out a long spear and shouted.
Popcorn began fuming again. His little bottom twitched as if he were about to launch himself through the air at any second. It seemed he got angry whenever anyone pointed a weapon at me.
I stretched out my hand and gently caught him before he could fly off. He wriggled in my palm, tickling me. He clearly wanted to charge straight at that man.
He might look cute, but he was surprisingly ferocious.
“Huk! The wind!”
The bandit must have found my gesture of grabbing at empty air bizarre; he fell backward onto his rear. A gust of wind happened to blow past at that exact moment, and it startled him. It was like the old saying about being frightened by a turtle and then jumping at the sight of a pot lid. He seemed especially timid.
That was when Ji-geu’s father shouted.
“Catch them! These bastards tried to steal everything we own. We can’t let them go!”
As if waking from a trance, the settlers began to move. Roughly fifty people had arrived, not counting those who had died on the way. The bandits numbered only six—including the one Popcorn had knocked unconscious.
They looked used to fighting, but they were outnumbered and outarmed. On top of that, the settlers believed a mage was on their side. Their courage swelled. The bandits shrank back, and the fight ended far more easily than I had expected—so easily that I wondered whether the tension I had felt earlier had been necessary at all.
Huh. Were there only six? I thought there was one more.
I tilted my head, but I couldn’t remember the exact number.
Must have been my imagination.
The bandits were all tied up with rope and forced to kneel. Ji-geu, who had been watching, came over and asked me.
“Mister, can’t you tie people up with magic?”
His eyes sparkled with expectation. When I told him I couldn’t, he looked slightly disappointed. The adults nearby seemed to have been listening as well.
“So mages aren’t all-powerful after all.”
Someone muttered.
I keep telling you, I’m not a mage.
That man had seemed suspicious from the start.
My instincts had screamed that something was off. If I hadn’t kept watching him, he would be the one rolling on the ground tied up right now. With so many rough-tempered people on the other side, he might even have been killed. Running away the moment the situation turned had been the correct choice.
“Damn it! That was my chance to strike it rich.”
If things had gone well, the whole village would have belonged to him. If only that man—that mage—hadn’t been there.
He punched a tree in frustration.
He had been the one who whispered to the younger men that they should steal the luggage once the leader and his subordinates left. Starting as a pickpocket at six, he had built a decent gang in the back alleys before he turned twenty. A little more time and he would have become the boss of the strongest organization.
If only the young man he had casually snatched hadn’t turned out to be a noble’s son. If only he hadn’t dragged that noble’s son into a gambling den and drowned him in liquor, women, and addictive aphrodisiacs. Then he would still be living comfortably in his old position.
The fatal mistake had been assuming the boy was merely the son of a rich merchant. His organization had collapsed overnight, chased by soldiers, and he had been forcibly sent to the frontier against his will. It had been coercion in every sense.
A high-ranking soldier had come with an administrator, shoved a contract at him, and said: Because of you, a precious mage has been ruined. Choose—go to the frontier or be executed as a murderer.
The noble’s son had apparently been a mage, however weak. He himself had been framed for the murder of someone he had never killed. On the frontier, crimes were overlooked so long as they weren’t treason. With no other choice, he had signed. The next day he was marching with the rest of the exiles.
Nobles and mages were dangerous. They possessed powers ordinary people could not imagine and twisted the fates of others. He had no desire to entangle himself with such beings again. And if even a precious mage had committed a crime serious enough to be sent here… the thought alone was horrifying.
He gripped the axe he had snatched before fleeing. He had run into the forest to escape the crowd, but he could not stay long. At night the magic beasts and wild animals would roam. He needed to reach a place beyond their sight and leave the forest as quickly as possible.
Have to hurry.
It was still the outer edge of the woods, so it should be safe. He ran, then stopped. Looking back toward the village, the trees blocked most of the view, but it seemed his comrades had all been captured. No one was chasing him; they apparently hadn’t noticed he was missing.
Supplies were supposed to arrive in a few days. He could hide nearby, wait, and ask to be sent to another village. Every settlement on the frontier suffered from a shortage of people. No village would turn away a newcomer.
First I need a place to stay for a while.
Somewhere a little deeper in the forest with a cave or hollow would be good. With the axe, firewood was no problem. Thinking that, he started walking again.
A chill crawled down his spine.
He spun around. Nothing was there. Only a single leaf had fallen. It must have brushed the back of his neck.
“What the—there’s nothing.”
He spoke aloud without meaning to. He knew it was nothing, yet the fear remained. He turned forward again and walked faster.
Five or six steps later, the chill returned.
“Huk!”
He whirled. Still nothing. Not even a leaf.
“What are you? If something’s there, show yourself!”
No answer. The forest was deathly silent.
Too silent. At some point the birds had stopped singing.
Something was wrong.
Terrified, he turned and ran. This time he clearly felt something stroke the back of his neck. He gasped and looked back—only for something to envelop his entire body. Before he could even scream, he lost consciousness.
An emergency village meeting was called.
The topic was what to do with the bandits who had tried to rob their supplies and rule over the settlers.
Everyone sat in a circle, voices heated.
“We should kill them. Leave men like that alive and they’ll cause trouble again.”
“Killing them is too harsh. They haven’t actually done anything yet.”
“But keeping them here is scary. Who knows what they’ll try later.”
“Banish them.”
“Wouldn’t it be better to make them the village’s shared slaves? We’re already short on hands. Losing them too would be a problem.”
“True. There are far too few of us.”
“If a magic beast shows up…”
One man glanced at the bound bandits.
“Use them as bait and the rest of us run. Keep them alive until then.”
The bandits could hear every word. Their faces turned deathly pale.
......
People in this world were terrifying. I had expected the suggestion to banish them, but I never imagined talk of slavery and live bait. Even more frightening was that the children were listening to the entire discussion. Was this how they grew up to become such adults?
If innocent Ji-geu turned into one of them, I would be a little sad.
I stayed out of the meeting and simply sat quietly. Honestly, I didn’t care what happened to the bandits. They were the sort who would steal everything in a place like this and perhaps enslave others. They had no right to complain about any treatment they received.
Even after a long time, the opinions refused to converge. We could not afford to waste any more time. We didn’t even have proper shelter for the night. We needed to light fires, prepare a safe place to sleep, find food, check our supplies, and see what we were missing.
“We can always kill or banish them later,” I said. “We don’t know what might happen in the future, so let’s put that aside for now.”
The settlers looked at one another.
“That sounds reasonable.”
“Let’s do that.”
“We can decide those things anytime later.”
The proposal passed with unanimous agreement.
“Then what should we do with them? Keep them tied up?”
One person asked me directly. The others fell silent, waiting for my answer.
“We can’t keep feeding them while they’re bound, and starving them to death would leave a bad taste. For now, let’s not give them any weapons and decide their fate later based on how they work.”
The moment I finished, everyone nodded.
“That seems best.”
“Good idea.”
“I agree.”
No one objected.
While the meeting continued, Popcorn circled round and round the first bandit he had sent flying and the second who had pointed a weapon at me. Every so often he stopped in front of their faces and hovered there. He might have been glaring at them.
Popcorn, for all his cute appearance, really knows how to hold a grudge.