The Gem of Freedom, Tarados
The mud at the bottom of the pond rose up and clumped together in the air, layer upon layer, until it took the shape of a face.
…No way.
It wasn't a person's face. It was a dog's head.
Simon knew exactly who it was at once.
The plague demon beast — Karl!
Squelch—
The mud-caked dog's head shifted, turning its gaze on Simon, Kajan, and Pier.
With rotting flesh sloughing off to reveal bone beneath, the undead image was unmistakable.
[Well, well~ It's been ages, hasn't it? Pier!]
It even talked.
[Kahaha! Long time indeed, Karl!]
Is that really Karl? We found him just like that?
Simon stared at Pier, dumbfounded.
[Not the real thing, boy! Merely an avatar. Same kind of thing as that skull badge you carry around with you!]
Simon looked down at his badge and understood immediately.
[By the way, Pier — who's the little whelp? Are you still hooked on raising a human child for fun, like in the old days?]
Pier chuckled low in his throat.
[This is Richard's son, Simon Polentia. He's since inherited his father's mantle as Commander of the 7th Legion!]
[Richard's son, you say?]
Karl's gaze swung toward Simon.
[Ah, yes! He's the spitting image of that Richard! Human 'blood' truly never ceases to send a chill down one's spine. I can feel that man's temperament steeped right into the boy.]
Karl's eyes gleamed.
[Hmm— though it seems the young stallion at least raised the lad properly. He has a shell about him. A very sturdy, solid shell. But I wonder — what happens if we peel that shell back a layer or two? Would he turn out just like Richard? Or perhaps—]
"Sorry, Karl."
Simon smiled brightly.
"Save the philosophizing for later. We've come to collect you. We've secured half of your main body — where's the other half?"
[How should I know!]
Karl's avatar barked out a laugh, and it genuinely sounded like a dog's bark.
[The last thing I remember, the main body was being loaded onto a carriage and carted off somewhere in 'Tarados'! He squeezed out the last of his strength to create us avatars and slip us through a gap in the carriage! We crawled along the ground, hiding in the nearest marshes and ponds to keep our bodies from drying out. Then contact with the main body was lost.]
Karl tilted his head, peering at Simon from close up.
[We've been waiting right here for you all to come! The main body made sure of it — he gave the avatars the ability to sense the presence of anyone carrying 'the power of a Legion' when they drew near!]
Simon smiled inwardly.
So Karl's main body really had been in Tarados all along. They'd come to exactly the right place.
[Karl! Then where are the other avatars?]
This time it was Pier who asked. Karl shook his head.
[No idea. Not only can't we reach the main body — the avatars can't reach each other either. The others are probably all holed up somewhere damp, waiting for rescue.]
[…Hmm.]
[In any case, hurry, Pier! They're running all manner of unspeakable experiments on my main body! Left alone like this, he could be destroyed beyond repair before we can lift a finger!]
At that, Simon stepped forward.
"Fine, Karl. But there's one thing you have to promise me first. If we rescue you, you and your forces join the 7th Legion under my command."
[Uh, um! Of course, that's… how it would… probably… go?]
Simon watched the avatar's eyes dart about evasively as its words trailed off into mush.
[But surely we can set that question aside for a moment — getting me out of here comes first, doesn't it? Only if we join forces can we sweep away those wretched fiends. Shake my hand!]
Simon turned his back on him without a word.
"We're returning to Kizen. Pier, Kajan."
[Wait! Wait! Wait!]
Karl's avatar blurted out in a panic.
[What do you mean, return? You came to rescue me!]
"To be precise, we came to return you to the Legion."
Simon looked back at him over his shoulder.
"If you refuse to rejoin, there's no reason for us to fight those fiends on your behalf."
Karl's face went blank for a moment.
[Y-you ungrateful human! Do you have any idea how much I did for your father? I'm the man who saved your father's life, and you'd just abandon me here?]
Kajan silently unfolded his map.
"The next teleport magic circle back to Kizen is fifteen minutes from here."
"Understood. Let's go."
[Wait! Wait! Wait!]
Karl lolled his tongue out, panting theatrically.
[Fine! Fine, all right! I'll rejoin the Legion! Happy now?]
"Good. Negotiation concluded."
Simon flashed a beaming smile.
[Ugh…!]
And then Karl felt it.
That smiling face of Simon's overlapped perfectly — perfectly — with the grinning face of Richard, who had barged uninvited into his thriving dungeon all those years ago and threatened him into becoming his underling.
[The greed of you humans, honestly…!!]
Simon brushed the complaint aside lightly and pressed on with his questions.
"Other than the main body being in Tarados, is there anything else you know?"
[I'm just one avatar, so I can't pinpoint an exact location. But I can sense the main body! Even now, I can feel him imprisoned somewhere not far from here! Take me with you. The closer we get to him, the more of a reaction my body will give off.]
Karl's avatar was, in effect, a kind of living detector for tracking down the main body.
"Simon, use this."
Kajan pulled a socket necklace from his bag and handed it over. Karl's avatar slipped inside the socket with practiced ease.
[Oh! Not bad in here! No risk of drying out.]
The necklace swung back and forth like a pendulum.
[Right then, let's move! Off to find my main body, quick as you like!]
"Yes, yes — now kindly keep it down."
Simon shut the socket's lid completely and hung the necklace around his own neck.
"Thank you. I'll return this to the school afterward, Kajan."
"Right. First, we find a village."
At the same time, in the marshlands on the outskirts of Tarados—
[I am Karl's avatar! I was waiting for one who bears the power of a Legion!]
This time, the marsh floor churned and spat out Karl's avatar. The very same conversation he'd just had with Simon was replaying itself, word for word.
[As expected. Precisely as the intel stated.]
A man in a hooded robe stood at the edge of the marshland.
His name was Alaze.
An Ancient Undead of the 5th Legion, led by Magnus.
[Main stronghold captured. Yet Ancient Undead acquisition ordered. Legion Commander Magnus. Unprecedented.]
Alaze muttered to himself, ringed by guards — undead draped in enormous hooded robes.
The bodies glimpsed between their robes were stitched together from patches of differently colored flesh, and thick drool reeking of a foul stench dripped in long strands from their mouths. Their twin pupils churned like black whirlpools, as if scribbled there by a child.
Karl's avatar was wary not of the Ancient Undead Alaze himself, but of the undead standing behind him.
[A question.]
Alaze spoke in a halting, mechanical voice.
[Cooperation possible. However — condition. If we extract your main body. You must join Magnus's 5th Legion.]
At the words join the Legion, Karl's avatar bristled all over.
The 7th Legion had only just been disbanded and he'd finally tasted freedom — and now he was expected to bind himself to another Legion again?
[Th-that's…!]
[No room for negotiation beyond this.]
Just as Alaze said, Karl had no choices left in his current situation.
It had been years since anyone bearing the power of a Legion had last appeared, after all.
[…Fine. Deal. As long as they get me out of there!]
The corners of Alaze's mouth lifted.
[Karl and the 5th Legion — contract established. Any who interfere. Shall be eliminated.]
The Gem of Freedom — Tarados.
Long ago, this land had known a near-miraculous prosperity as the home of the Gold Mine Dungeon, where monsters appeared bearing precious ores of pure red gold.
Countless adventurers and treasure hunters, drunk on dreams of striking it rich, poured in until the roads ran thick with human traffic. The cities across the territory burned with lamplight far into the night, day after day.
The locals welcomed outsiders without discrimination, and adventurers — regardless of region, nationality, or race — drank shoulder to shoulder, sang together, and reveled as one. A new culture was born there, one that transcended bloodline and birthplace.
Tarados, where the oppressed lived and thrived side by side, grew into a shining symbol of a new kind of freedom.
But as the ore-bearing monsters in the Gold Mine Dungeon began to dwindle, the tide of outsiders slowly receded — and when a new lord ascended over Tarados, everything changed.
Corpses began drifting down the rivers.
People who had lived in Tarados were twisted into horrifying chimeras that crossed the mountains to raid the farms of neighboring territories.
The ominous rumors fed on themselves, growing darker with every telling, until Tarados became a place no sane soul would set foot in.
Yet even so, the stories of Tarados were well known here — in 'Efnel', the neighboring territory.
"You want to go to Tarados?"
The two of them had made it safely to the nearest village.
At Simon and Kajan's request, the coachman stared back at them in open disbelief. Simon gave a confident nod.
"Yes. We'd like to leave right away, if possible."
"Good grief! You youngsters been hitting the bottle since midday, have you? Tarados is hell on earth right now!"
The coachman flapped his hands in refusal.
He was the fourth coachman to turn them down. The ones who'd already refused leaned back against their carriages, chuckling at the spectacle.
"Who in their right mind goes to Tarados in this day and age?"
"If you're looking to kill yourself, there's a venom swamp behind those ruins over yonder — knock yourselves out there!"
"Hahahaha!"
Simon let the laughter wash over him without a flicker and asked, "What exactly is happening in Tarados?"
"That's… ahem."
The coachman cleared his throat, glancing furtively around.
"Not something I'd care to gossip about to outsiders. A man likes to sleep soundly at night, you understand."
Still, compared to the flat rejections of the other coachmen, this one at least seemed willing to engage — that alone was encouraging.
Simon drew a coin purse from inside his robe and held it up.
"I'll pay you whatever you ask."
Gulp—
The coachman swallowed without meaning to at the sight of it, then jolted and waved his hands frantically.
"Not for all the gold in the world! Money's fine and all, but my life matters more!"
"Is Tarados really that dangerous?"
"I said what I said!"
"Although—"
Simon pointed with his fingertip.
"Those people over there seem to be heading for Tarados."
A convoy of freight wagons was being readied for departure toward Tarados. Rough-looking men were shouting over one another, swords already drawn.
"…Be careful with your eyes. Don't so much as look at them."
The coachman dropped his voice to a whisper. The villagers, too, were detouring around the convoy or pulling their shutters closed.
"Who are they?"
"The Ganes Guild. 'Guild' is putting it politely — they're a bandit horde, plain and simple. They've made Tarados their base of operations, and they're extremely dangerous—hey! Hey, you there!"
Simon, without listening to the rest, strode straight toward the Ganes Guild's wagons.
The bandits' faces twisted into scowls as they leveled their weapons at him.
"Oi. What do you want?"
"Got a death wish, kid?"
The air was razor-thin, a blade fight ready to erupt at any second. The coachman gesticulated wildly behind him, begging Simon to come back — but Simon only flashed a pleasant smile and looked the bandits over.
"You're headed for Tarados, I take it? What's in here?"
And with an expression of pure, guileless innocence, he pointed at the crates loaded onto the wagons.
At that moment, a man who seemed to be the bandit leader vaulted down from one of the wagons.
"You got a death wish, punk?"
The voice dripped with murderous intent.
At those words, Simon rummaged through his coat and produced his Kizen second-year student ID.
"I'm from Kizen."
The Ganes Guild members' expressions froze solid. The man who looked to be their leader paled, biting down hard on his lip.
"I'd appreciate your cooperation with an investigation."
Simon slipped the student ID back into his coat and pointed at the crates again.
"I'll ask once more. What exactly are you transporting to Tarados right now?"
The leader let out a long, long sigh. Then he plucked a cigarillo from his belt, clamped it between his lips, and lit it.
Fwooooo—
The smoke unfurled like fog, veiling the air around them in a hazy film.
"Well, well. Someone taught you your manners properly, didn't they."
The leader gave a low, uneasy chuckle.
But even so, now that the Kizen student ID had come out, his voice was far more tempered than it would have been had Simon started making demands cold.
"Me, you see — I've got a boy about your age, professor. No money, so he can't even open his core. Just holed up in some shop somewhere, sewing clothes for a living—"
"This is an official investigation. Please answer the question."
"You're Kizen, aren't you? You should keep to the good things — see only the good, hear only the good, and grow up to be some high-and-mighty mover of nations. No sense poking a hornet's nest and getting yourself stung, is there?"
Talking as though reasoning with a wayward child, he scattered the cigarillo smoke and took a step closer.
"Us low-down folk have got our low-down lives to live, see? It's dirty, it's ugly, and if you go sticking your nose in, you'll only get your eyes scratched out. I'm telling you this out of concern — you remind me of my boy."
"And if you keep refusing to cooperate—"
In the thick, airless tension, Simon laid a hand gently on one of the crates.
"Mind if I open it?"
Shing! Shing! Clack!
Chak! Chak!
The instant his hand touched the crate, every bandit drew steel and leveled blades and bows at Simon.
"Now, now — let's not do anything hasty~"
The bandit leader pressed his sword to the back of Simon's neck.
"Professor! I may be an ignorant man with no letters to my name, but I'll stake my life on one thing."
He drew a purse full of gold from his coat and slid it smoothly in front of Simon's chest.
"You could turn around and walk away right this second, and not one grain of trouble would ever touch your life! Nothing happened, nothing ever will! Why — come to think of it, I really can't fathom why a fine gentleman would come out to folk like us in the first place. Unless this is what you were after all along, eh?"
Simon, his hand still resting on the crate, lowered his gaze.
Past the leader's blade pressed against his nape, the crate came into view.
And there — a tiny gap in the wood.
Through that hairline sliver—
"!"
Human eyes rolled past, tumbling over and over.
"There, see? So if you'd just be reasonable, professor—"
"Listen here."
In that instant, Simon's eyes twisted like a demon's.
"I don't think this is the kind of thing we can smooth over with a story like that, do you?"