The Herb Field and the Water Garden
"Agos is quite popular, isn't he?"
That was Amon's first impression upon touring the Temple of War. The scale was impressive enough, but beyond that, the temple itself was meticulously maintained, and judging by the visitor's ledger, the faithful's footsteps showed no sign of dwindling. He finally understood why the little wretch had strutted so whenever the human realm came up.
"There are so many knights here, I suppose that's why he's held in such high regard. In any case, I'm a little envious."
"Are you being serious right now?"
"Of course."
"Really? Then why don't you go around acting impressive too, from now on. I'll help you."
"Would you build me a temple?"
"That's hardly beyond my power."
"If it's anything like the Temple of Despair, I'll have to decline. It pales too badly in comparison to this place."
"Are you mocking me right now?"
Death's expressionless face glistened with killing intent in an instant. Yet in spite of his terrifying glare, a smile played at the corner of his mouth as he asked, ever so kindly:
"Do you perhaps want to end up like Bar? Arm or leg, your choice. I'm ready whenever you are."
"…My apologies."
Death was the type to follow through on anything he said. Amon realized his mistake at once and hastened to beg forgiveness.
"One fool who misses his tongue is quite enough."
Had the brat not been saddled with the duty of learning to cook, Death would have lopped off his remaining arm long ago. Of all people, the dimwitted one had to be in charge of the cooking, and it frequently turned Death's stomach inside out.
"I wonder when that idiot will ever manage to cook something edible…"
"Miss Rita said she'd train him diligently, so surely there will be progress before long?"
"I don't know… I can't muster any hope at all."
Death still hadn't forgotten the taste of the first meat he'd ever eaten from Rita's hands. That day, he had experienced a new world. To him, who had spent his days gnawing through tough, gamey meat, it was nothing short of a shock — a momentous event.
Why is food this terrible? Can't you make it taste good for once?
The day Death first voiced that complaint, Bar had rounded on him in a rather agitated voice, demanding whether he dared insult his skill.
As the price of it, he had lost an arm and now found himself down in the human realm, learning to cook under Rita.
Having tasted Rita's cooking, Death could no longer stomach Bar's food. Once he had learned the happiness that flavor could bring, he went so far as to take drastic measures.
"Still, he's full of drive these days. Ever since he found the glasses, Miss Rita treats Bar considerably better too. If it's inconvenient for you, please just bear with it a little longer."
"Would that brat give me time?"
"I am reviewing the terms of the contract in meticulous detail. There is bound to be a loophole somewhere."
"If I'd stayed inside Venenum's body the whole time, he never would have noticed. Stupid mistake on my part. No — I should say I got carried away."
At first, he had been drawn by sheer curiosity at the sight of a spirit appearing for the first time in thousands of years. When Bayul had collapsed, it was the spirits rampaging through the temple that roused Death from his long slumber.
The problem was what came after. The taste of the meat he'd devoured in Venenum's body had scrambled his brain, and he'd gone and taken a job as a servant. If he simply got into that household, he'd reasoned, delicious food would keep coming — and on that impulse, he'd revealed his half-true form as well.
Ultimately it had proven a deeply satisfying arrangement, but then that chairman or whoever it was had appeared and complicated everything.
"He goes by Black here, I believe? Shall I call Venenum back?"
"No need. He's been found out anyway — what would be the point of bringing him back? That body has its limits when it comes to eating, so it's not much use."
The dog Bayul had named Black was, in truth, Death's pet. He had merely borrowed the creature's body for a while to dodge prying eyes.
He had been careful, even enlisting his pet as cover — who knew gluttony could be so dangerous? Caught red-handed by the one man famed for his scrupulousness, he would simply have to devise some kind of countermeasure.
"The lord of this land was asking about Venenum last night. He seemed disappointed that he hadn't come along with us."
"A fascinating human, isn't he?"
A trace of intrigue colored Death's eyes as he recalled Duke Randert.
"I've never met a human like him."
Densely compressed mana shrouded the man's entire body. Energy of such purity — rare even in Death's world — was contained within a human frame.
"How does he even withstand it?"
"An ordinary human would likely have exploded by now. The very nature of his vessel seems to be fundamentally different."
"I'd almost like to take him back and study him."
"…That would not be so easily done."
Death gave a slight nod, as if conceding Amon's advice.
"He kept looking at me strangely, I thought."
"We hardly present an ordinary appearance, do we?"
It was a half-true form rather than his true body, but the innate aura he carried could not be hidden entirely. He might fool the eyes of common folk, but a man of Duke Randert's caliber had more than enough cause for suspicion.
"You're not planning to tell his son, are you?"
"Are you worried you'll be thrown out?"
"Aren't you afraid?"
"Not particularly…"
"You'd never get to eat Rita's cooking again?"
At those words, which pierced him to the very core, Amon flinched violently. Only then did the future come into focus for him. Being cast out now meant returning, once and for all, to Bar's tough, foul-smelling food. Quite possibly for the rest of eternity.
"That is indeed a matter requiring careful deliberation."
"See?"
"Yes. My thinking was short-sighted."
"Then read it."
"…Read what, may I ask?"
"The future."
Death fixed Amon with an unshakable gaze. The eyes that could see the future — a power even he, ranked ninth in the Demon Realm, did not possess. And the one who held it was Amon.
When Amon's closed eyes opened, a new world unfurled before him. There was a penalty, of course — a price that had to be paid without fail — but the ability to know the future was a tantalizing, irresistible power all the same.
"Um, Commander?"
"Speak."
"Using my precious power merely to learn in advance whether we'll be thrown out or not — wouldn't that be considered an abuse of it?"
"Did you just say merely?"
Death's tone turned sharply menacing.
"When have I ever made a habit of asking you for things? As far as I remember, this is the first time?"
"That may be so, but I hardly think it necessary to—"
"Just do it."
"Perhaps you might reconsider one final—"
"Do I look like I'm joking?"
The last line of defense had crumbled. Amon did his utmost to arrange his features into the most pitiful expression imaginable, but Death did not budge an inch.
"…Here, of all places?"
"Wouldn't it be better than at the temple?"
"You are aware of what form I take when my eyes open, are you not? If I do it here, things are liable to get rather loud."
"Ah. Fair point, that."
Truthfully, he hadn't thought that far. He'd been so preoccupied with hiding his identity that he had nearly scared himself into exposing it first.
"What are you all doing out here?"
Just as Death was caught in the throes of intense inner conflict, Bayul suddenly appeared before them. Drenched head to toe in rain and beaming brightly, he arrived with both arms loaded full of what looked like grass and tree roots.
"What's all that you're carrying?"
"Oh, this? They're things to be used as medicinal herbs."
"We thought you were inside — you went out to dig up herbs yourself?"
"The priest said the temple was running low."
"All this, by yourself?"
"There's even more over there."
Bayul pointed beyond the temple walls.
Arf arf!
Jasper, soaked through just as Bayul was, barked at them with obvious excitement. Beside the dog sat a mountain of what certainly appeared to be herbs.
"We're a bit short on hands — would you mind helping us carry it all?"
―Bayul! I can do it, I can!
―You idiot! I told you to behave yourself when people are watching!
―Oops! Right. But hey, water gremlin! Did you just call me an idiot?
―What did you say? Water gremlin? I told you never to call me that again! You want to die? Shall I dump a waterfall on your head?
Tempesta! Innocent!
Bayul deliberately put on a stern face, dodging the eyes of Death and Amon, who had begun moving to haul the herbs.
Don't tell me you two are fighting again?
―Huh? N-no, no!
―W-we're not fighting!
I'd like you to remember the promise we made today.
―Of course!
―Right! We'll absolutely keep it!
Watching the two spirits suddenly clasp hands and put on an act of being the best of friends, Bayul couldn't help but smile to himself at the memory of what had happened just before. Both of their mouths were trembling badly with awkwardness.
"Innocent. Tempesta. Come over here for a moment."
By the time Bayul reached the herb field, there had been no one around at all. Judging it the perfect opportunity, he hadn't hesitated to summon the two of them.
Their crying had stopped, but the pair appeared at once with sulky, cowed faces. Like someone soothing a small child, Bayul spoke as gently and calmly as he could.
"Do you know why I was upset with you earlier?"
―Yeah… we know you were angry.
―Did I… become someone you hate now?
"I was angry, but I don't hate you."
―…Really?
"Why do you think I was angry?"
―Because… because we didn't listen to you and just kept fighting…
―Because we were being loud and rowdy… that's it, isn't it.
Innocent and Tempesta answered haltingly, glancing at Bayul's face with anxious eyes. It seemed they had done a great deal of thinking in the meantime — both of them had grasped exactly what they'd done wrong.
"I want Innocent and Tempesta to get along well with each other."
―No way! How am I supposed to get along with someone who calls me a water gremlin every single day?
―I don't want to either! What, does everyone just assume I like you?
The moment Innocent flared up, Tempesta fired right back without an ounce of retreat. Bayul had nursed a secret hope, but it was evidently still too soon. Sighing deeply, he decided that expecting the two of them to be affectionate right away was simply asking too much.
"All right. If you both hate it, then there's nothing I can do."
―…?
"If things go on like this, it's obvious that I'll be the only one suffering between you two. So let's just keep things the way they were this morning. That would be easier for everyone."
―Like this morning?
―You mean you'll never talk to me again?
The bewildered Innocent and Tempesta finally grasped what Bayul meant, and they shrieked in alarm.
"What am I supposed to do when all you two do is fight the moment you set eyes on each other? I'll just stick with Shame and—"
―No! I won't fight! I can not fight, I promise!
―Th-that's right! Me too! I'll listen to everything you say, Bayul, I swear!
So please — please don't do that.
With faces on the verge of bursting into tears at any moment, the two spirits clung to him in unison, as if bound by some solemn oath.
Bayul's cold attitude had been a shock to them — a frightening experience they never wanted to go through again.
"Then will you grant me just one favor?"
―What is it? I'll do anything for you, Bayul!
―Me too! Anything at all!
From there, things swept forward at full gallop. The pair — thoroughly hooked by Bayul's little scheme(?) — and Shame finally threw themselves into restoring the herb field in earnest.
When Shame dug the drainage channels, Innocent quickened the water's flow, guiding the rainwater out swiftly. Once Innocent had drawn the moisture out of the saturated soil, Shame flooded it with nutrients so the herbs could thrive.
When Shame's uprooted weeds piled up thick beside the channels, Tempesta sent them flying into the distance with a whirlwind, trash and all. Every now and then he also righted the trees and herbs that had been knocked over or bent by the wind.
Arf arf arf!
As if he could see the three spirits bustling about, Jasper bounded around them in circles, wild with delight.
―If we bring back herbs from the mountains, Bayul will be so pleased…
As the restoration of the herb field neared its end, Shame made the proposal to Tempesta. Shame would gather the herbs, and Tempesta would carry them — an arrangement the boy readily accepted. Innocent helped by evaporating the moisture so that the herbs the two brought back could be stored with ease.
Shame's remark about pleasing Bayul had been thoroughly calculated. He seemed to have already figured out exactly how to handle Tempesta and Innocent.
The trouble arose on the road back, after they'd delivered the herbs to Father Juan and were heading home. Despite Bayul not overusing his powers, the spirits' energy had drained away at an alarming rate yet again.
Something was strange about this.
Bayul was genuinely baffled as to why this kept happening.
―Ahh, I miss the Water Garden.
It was then that Innocent muttered it, her voice listless and faint.
The Water Garden? Why would she bring that up all of a sudden?
"…!"
The question didn't linger for long. In a flash, it struck Bayul like a bolt. The place Innocent loved most in all of Carrington. And at the very heart of that Water Garden lay a Spirit Stone.
The mysterious stone that gives off the same energy as mine. That's it. If Hamilton and Carrington differ in any way, it's the presence or absence of a Spirit Stone — that, and that alone.