Chapter 226: Choosing Our Spots
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 226: Choosing Our Spots
On the map, the Meta Conveyor Belt looked like a wide, donut-shaped road supporting the interior of the Military State. I wasn't sure if you could call it a 'road,' since it was literally land that flowed like a river, but it was massive enough to circle the entire nation.
If we head straight east from here and follow the coastal road, we’ll reach the Duchy of Mist, a nation ruled openly by vampires. The land of the Progenitor Tyrkanzyaka. The moment we set foot there, the Military State can no longer pursue us. So, that’s where they’ll think we’re headed.
So we'll feint as if we're leaving the belt for the coastal road... only to feint again by pretending to stay on the belt.
In reality, we'll take a shortcut—not the inside track, but a true shortcut—to get ahead of them... and go somewhere else entirely.
Of course, this plan required two conditions.
First, the bait had to be tempting enough.
This we achieved by offering Ralion as a sacrifice.
“Farewell, Ralion. He was a good horse…”
“Hm? Hu, while I appreciate you feeling sorry for Ralion, there is no need to worry. Ralion will return.”
“What? He'll return?”
“My other Kindred are beings whose deaths have been halted. Ralion alone was revived from the grave of my old mule. No, he is a vessel containing my faint memories and recollections… In the end, he is a part of me, so even if left behind, he will one day return.”
Ralion wasn't that good of a horse. A sacrifice that can return isn't really a sacrifice. Yup. Anyway, since this was a little-known fact, we decided to use it.
And the second condition.
We couldn't reveal our whereabouts.
Because of this, we had to give up the container. No matter how much Tyr wrapped it in darkness, with watchful eyes everywhere, a huge container flying around cloaked in shadow was bound to be noticed. Failing to spot that would be a matter of intelligence, not camouflage. The texture itself would be different.
So we made a drastic decision.
“Hey! It's cramped! Don't move!”
“I'm not the one moving.”
“…Surely, you're not suspecting me when we're packed in this tight.”
“Grrr. It's so stuffy!”
“Nya~. I pity the nyas who don't know the comfort of a tight space, nya~.”
[…Be patient. This was not made to hold five people in the first place. Why make such pointless complaints?]
Tonight, until just before sunrise, we would all hide inside Tyr's coffin, which can swim through darkness, and fly at full speed!
Our belongings were stored in the Regressor's Pocket, and Nabi was put in a box at our feet. We were stacked neatly in a row inside the coffin, packed together like bean sprouts in a steamer. It was uncomfortable and stuffy, but we had no choice.
Tyr's coffin is a treasure that has been with the Progenitor throughout her history, an Arcane that has become semi-otherworldly. It's a space that can easily accommodate about five people.
The size was just right. It was smaller than a carriage, so it could pass through forest paths and between buildings. It could even perform the kind of 3D maneuvers impossible for the container.
See, a vehicle doesn't need to be huge. That's all for show. An efficient, compact size is the rational choice for the future!
The cramped space was a problem, but well, it wasn't a big deal unless you had a large family.
We lay side by side in the order of Azzy, Ria, Tyr, me, and the Regressor.
This was entirely Tyr's fault, as she insisted on separating the men and women even in such a tight space, dividing it into sections. And since she lay in the middle to control the coffin, the arrangement was a natural result.
'Just as planned. I can be close to Hu after so long.'
There was a bit of self-interest involved, but anyway.
The space was too narrow to lie horizontally, so we all lay vertically. Because of that, I ended up directly facing Tyr.
'It is nice to see him up close after so long... but of all places, a coffin. It is as embarrassing as peeling back my own flesh to show what's inside.'
Embarrassed? About what? I've already seen the inside of your skin countless times, and even touched it, haven't I? The sensation is still vivid in my right hand.
Isn't being in a coffin way more normal than a heart-touch? People end up in coffins, but it's rare for someone to touch another person's heart with their fingers!
'Ughhh. When I was alone in the coffin, I didn't care about it at all... Why am I so conscious of it now?'
Perhaps because of the embarrassment of letting people into her private space, a sense of unease lingered in Tyr's mind. That's why she kept complaining to me.
[This imperial juniper coffin of mine is a space filled with my power, a sanctuary meant solely for me. I have never let anyone in my entire life, so neither my enemies nor even my own Kindred have ever witnessed its interior.]
“There's not much to see, though? What's the big deal about showing the inside of a coffin?”
[That attitude is the problem. This is a secret, hidden realm never before revealed to the world. Do not try to dig any deeper, and consider it an honor just to have been allowed inside.]
As if our presence was a constant bother, she would voice her complaints every so often while moving the coffin with her darkness. Well, it wasn't so much that Tyr was petty, but more due to her aversion to having her private space exposed…
…Wait a minute. Now that I think about it, this is a little annoying. Why do I have to humor her over something like this?
We can share a coffin! It's not like I wanted to get in one before I died! I didn't beg to come in here; it was necessary!
It bothers you that much? Fine, I'll pick at every little thing!
I shifted in the cramped space and lifted the velvet lining with my hand.
“What's this deep, hidden secret? This red lining? Doesn't look all that special to me.”
[Ah. There.]
“Oh, there's something behind here, too. Let's see... clothes?”
[No! Do not touch that!]
Beyond the lining was a pile of clothes that looked like they'd been shoved in haphazardly. Not a packet, but primitive garments that should have been neatly folded for storage, their flaws laid bare before my eyes.
I pointed at the wrinkles and sighed.
“When you put away laundry that isn't in a packet, you should fold it properly. It's all wrinkled. What is this… Ah.”
So that was it. Why she didn't want me to look. I nodded gravely.
“Oh, dear. You were embarrassed because you don't clean your room. You spend so much time in this coffin, you should try to live a little more tidily.”
[Did I not say I never intended to let anyone in!]
“That's what all the people who live like slobs in their messy rooms say. 'It's my room and I live alone, so what if it's a little messy?' And they're right.”
I nodded, then my eyes widened as I exclaimed.
“They're right, that is—until we came in! That's why I'm saying you should keep it tidy! Do you think other people clean and organize because they have nothing better to do? They clean because they never know when their parents, a lover, or an important guest might visit! You, Tyr, are paying the price for your usual lack of tidiness!”
[Ngh…!]
As I pressed her, shoving the wrinkled clothes in her face, Tyr, at a loss for words, clenched her teeth and snatched the clothes from my hand. Not that it mattered; we were so close that they were still right in front of my eyes.
Hoo. When else in my life will I get to lecture a 12th-century girl? An opportunity like this won't come again.
A world where the order of seniority is reversed. This is fun, isn't it?
“Cleaning is like life. Humans tidy their surroundings even though they know it will get messy again someday. Just like how they live fiercely even though they know they will die someday. So you too, Tyr.”
[Hm? Do you perhaps wish to overcome death? If so….]
“That's not the right analogy! It's a one-to-one correspondence! If death is the mess, then you should never make a mess, ever! But the moment it got messy, it was already over for you!”
She just swerved the conversation completely! It was so sudden I almost ignored the logic and agreed!
'Hoh. Now that I think about it, that is true. I was not alive, I do not sweat, and I consume nothing but blood. Whether it is my clothes or the inside of my coffin, there is no reason for them to get dirty. From the very beginning, my coffin was not dirty…!'
Meanwhile, Tyr, having co-opted my logic, gave a triumphant smile.
[You are right. Tidying is for those who need it. However, I am the Progenitor Tyrkanzyaka, a being who requires neither food nor water, who lives on blood and darkness. What meaning could cleaning or organizing possibly have for me? It has only become momentarily messy because I let you all in.]
“Oho. So that's how you're going to play it, is it?”
Tyr replied shamelessly.
[Because it is the truth.]
“If that's how you want to be…”
Good. She's learned to be shameless. My initial goal is achieved. Now she won't complain about us borrowing her coffin... Huh? Wait a minute.
She doesn't tidy up because it doesn't get dirty? Then what about the clothes? I tilted my head and asked.
“In that case, Tyr, do you not do laundry either?”
[Hm?]
“Laundry, I mean laundry. Even the revolutionary invention that is the Clothing Packet needs to be taken out and washed sometimes. But it seems you've never washed the clothes you wear every day.”
Come to think of it, I never saw Tyr doing laundry by hand back in Tantalus either. I use packets myself, so I didn't pay much attention, but isn't that strange? Washing clothes is a monster that devours domestic labor. Why had I never seen her do it?
The conclusion was simple.
“The reason you were trying to hide the clothes was because you don't even do laundry... Aha.”
[Slander!]
“Then did you do laundry? I've never seen you do it.”
To be honest, it would be pretty funny to see a being like the Progenitor squatting down to do laundry. There may be high and low stations in life, but there's no such thing for work. What needs to be done must be done by someone.
Even I had to take on all sorts of chores, so why should the Progenitor get a pass? That's a little irritating.
[I-I repeat. I do not emit any filth….]
“Then you won't mind this, right?”
Hmph, how about this.
I grabbed the hem of Tyr's clothes and brought it to my nose. Then I made a show of sniffing it loudly.
The circuits in Tyr's head seemed to grind to a halt. Blinking her red eyes, she watched what I was doing, then, like a broken machine, she freaked out a beat too late.
[Hu?!?! What do you think you are doing?]
“Checking the smell. Let's see what these so-called 'clothes that don't get dirty' are like.”
If there's even the slightest smell, I'll use it to make sure she can't even show her face... Huh.
“Huh? There's really no smell.”
What? She doesn't do laundry... Ah.
The Progenitor can control blood and darkness at will. Her control is so strong that she doesn't let out a single whiff of blood even in a space filled with it.
She even disposed of corpses by crushing them into a pulp with blood and then swallowing them whole. A being who can dissolve any waste from inside her body or foreign matter from outside and dispose of it separately.
“Wow, I've heard some people go to the Duchy hoping to become vampires, and now I can see why. Besides not dying, it's just convenient in so many ways…”
[L-Let go! You insolent brat!]
The clothes really only smelled of fabric. Even the scent was clean. To think the joke about it being easier to be dead than alive was actually true…
As I was lamenting life, voices began to mix in from in front of and behind me. The Regressor's voice echoed from behind my back, traveling along the coffin wall.
“Stop squirming! I told you it's cramped!”
“How much did I even move?”
“A lot! And not for any good reason, either! It's because you're doing weird stuff!”
“Ow! Ow! Stop poking me! It hurts!”
She's poking me with her finger and it hurts! She's ridiculously strong, and her fingers are so slender it hurts even more! Is this the relationship between pressure and surface area?!
In this long, hexagonal coffin, Ria's voice traveled from the opposite corner all the way to my ear.
“…It's nice that you two seem close, but. Could you maybe switch places? It's getting too cramped with you moving around. Um, it's hard to say, but. With the two of them over here…”
“Woof, cramped! Chest, stuffy! You, too big!”
“Ahem, for reasons like that.”
I wonder what's happening over there. My curiosity was piqued, but it was too cramped to even think about looking…