Chapter 153
Chapter 153
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 153
Chapter Title: Coincidence, Perhaps Inevitability (1)
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The midsummer sun blazed fiercely.
Under the clear blue sky, the scorching sunlight heated the sidewalk blocks until they burned. The air had grown quite stifling, so the people passing through the streets wore light clothing. And I was no exception.
I'd left my usual vest and cape at home. I'd unbuttoned the top few buttons of my shirt and rolled up the sleeves. Sweat beaded on the back of my neck, so I'd tied my hair back in a single ponytail.
Flutter.
Still feeling a bit hot, I tugged idly at my collar. After trudging through the north where blizzards howled endlessly, walking the capital in midsummer made it impossible to adjust to the temperature swing.
Should I cast a cooling spell?
I considered it but hurried my steps instead, thinking shade was just ahead anyway.
"...It's hot."
Unlike the demon realm, where every season was a total mess.
This was normal weather, really. But after wandering so many abnormal places, even normal felt alien.
Whatever, I sighed.
Before I knew it, I'd turned into an alley.
Stepping onto the cool sidewalk blocks, I ventured deeper into the alley. Midsummer noon—a time when even stepping out felt like a chore. So why had I come all the way to the capital?
There was a place I had to visit.
A person I absolutely had to meet.
Midway through the alley, I blinked my left eye.
"...Hm."
My left eye felt a little dry.
Better than the first day, but it seemed like it'd linger a few more days. I smiled wryly.
'This is a bargain.'
Death's Blade, Ganikalt.
For stealing a glimpse of a monster beyond common sense, a few blurry days in one eye was nothing...
'A price I can easily bear.'
With that thought, I kept walking.
No one wandered this eerie alley. Sticking to the patterned path etched into the ground, I soon reached my destination.
A rundown magic tool shop.
"......"
Standing before the shop door, I steadied my breath.
Meeting the enigmatic ancient elf who owned this place multiple times was one thing... but now that I knew his true identity, the situation felt entirely different.
'Cardi.'
I mulled over his name inwardly.
'Cardi van Armiel.'
The inaugural lord of the Ashen Mage Tower.
The great sage of the first Hero Party.
Of course, mulling "Cardi" conjured an image of a stuffy old coot or a slightly unhinged elf, so it didn't quite match...
'...An incredible figure.'
The first tower lord, Armiel.
Someone I admired, someone I wanted to emulate.
'Armiel is Cardi...'
Learning that truth now twisted my gut, recalling my childhood awe while flipping through lists of past Ashen tower lords... but he was still an extraordinary person.
'Among everyone I've met, top two fingers.'
Precious few had achieved what he had.
As far as I remembered, to rival Cardi's feats in history, you'd need an ancient dragon mage or equivalent.
It felt strange. Very strange.
A person I'd met multiple times, someone familiar... yet it felt like meeting someone entirely new.
"Hoo..."
I exhaled shortly and reached for the door handle.
Creeeak.
Rusty hinges groaned. The shabby bell on the door jingled. At the sound, someone inside the shop reacted.
"Oh? You're early."
It wasn't Cardi's voice.
But it was familiar.
A voice I could never forget.
Crack.
My body reacted before my mind. My grip tightened on the handle. Hearing that voice where it shouldn't be, my body moved on its own.
Acceleration, and muscle reinforcement.
The spell completed in an instant and glowed.
Bang!
I burst into the shop as if ripping the door off its hinges. Where Cardi should have been sitting... a girl sat instead.
White hair.
Green eyes.
The traitor, Gletus.
Toward the image burned into my retina, I swung my fist.
2.
"...When the hell is Belnoa coming?"
Cloe wasn't in a great mood today.
She puffed her cheeks and poked idly at a flask. The potion inside sloshed noisily.
"She said she'd be quick."
Perched on a chair, she swung her legs.
With nothing to do, she slumped over the desk staring at the clock—an agonizing time for the active Cloe.
How long had it been since her last day off?
The rare holiday granted by the Black Tower Lord. Every minute and second precious, yet Belnoa was thirty minutes late.
'Grandpa Cardi's gone too.'
No sooner had Cloe arrived than the old man said it was perfect and asked her to mind the shop before heading out ages ago. Thanks to that, Cloe was spending her sweet holiday guarding an empty shop.
"Who'd even come to a place like this..."
An alley bereft of foot traffic.
A shop in a secluded spot, accessible only by following a precise sequence on the path. Besides her and Belnoa, who else would drop by?
'If anyone, it'd be some weirdo!'
No normal person would.
Cloe grumbled and flicked the flask. It wobbled then righted itself like a top.
Watching it was starting to amuse her somehow.
Absorbed in this pointless fun, repeatedly flicking the flask...
"Ah."
A misjudged flick? Or a warning of impending misfortune?
Crash!
The flask shattered with a clamor.
Cloe's eyes widened as she scrambled for something to clean it up. And then...
Jingle.
The door bell rang.
Cloe paled. It had to be Cardi returning. She screamed inwardly.
'Why now, so fast...!'
Still, she kept her cool outwardly.
Feigning calm, she spoke in an even softer voice than usual.
"Oh? You're early."
The moment the words left her mouth, sparks flew before her eyes. Her instincts screamed a warning—stronger than ever. Cloe frowned.
'...I'm gonna die?'
No time to question it.
Boom—the door flew open. Dust settled in the old shop billowed into the air. As wind rushed in and Cloe blinked...
One blink.
A fleeting instant.
In that brief moment, something surged forward. Cloe slowly opened her eyes. And she gasped unwittingly.
"Eek...!"
With the gust came a fist. It stopped right before her eyes.
Whoosh!
The wind hit late.
Cloe's white hair whipped back. Her neat bangs all swept rearward.
"Uh, uhhh..."
When suddenly thrust into chaos, when utterly shocked, people lose their words, right? That was her now. Too stunned to speak properly.
"Hic."
Now hiccups too.
Her upper and lower teeth clacked together. Cloe peered past the fist halted inches away.
Vividly fierce blue eyes.
Beast-like eyes pierced her. Cloe felt terror. An indescribable, profound dread.
"H-hic."
Tears welled in Cloe's eyes.
Shivering violently, she forced her mouth open. Piecing words together laboriously.
"Wh-why are you doing this to me...?"
Her voice quivered terribly, but who could blame her? Squeezing out courage, Cloe asked her assailant. Why me?
"Uh..."
The sudden attacker—Raniel—wore a deeply conflicted expression. She slowly lowered her fist and muttered.
"...Not you?"
What wasn't?
Cloe wanted to bolt from her seat right then.
'Belnoa, please hurry...!'
No more irritation now.
Cloe prayed desperately to her childhood friend inwardly. More fervently than ever.
3.
The customer who'd entered the rundown shop and the girl temporarily minding it for the owner stared at each other. An awkward tension hung between them.
"S-so."
"Yeah."
"You mistook me for some really bad person, bad enough to punch on sight, and swung first?"
"Pretty much..."
Facing this woman more assailant than customer, Cloe's clenched fists trembled.
"That makes any sense...!"
From what she'd heard of the assailant's side...
'Some super evil person who looks just like me, same voice too... so I swung first to check?'
Did that even make sense?
Even Cloe, who saw herself as kind-hearted and patient... wanted to yell at this woman.
"Hoo, hoo..."
Barely suppressing her anger, Cloe spoke.
"I don't know who this bad person you mean is... but no matter who, isn't it wrong to swing violence without a word first?"
Straight talk. Morally right.
But axioms like that only work on those within reason's bounds.
"No, that psycho bitch deserves it."
"...Pardon?"
"Punching her on sight is fine. Hell, if you don't smash her in the first second you see her, she gets super annoying..."
And the woman before her wasn't reasonable.
Pretty face hiding a lunatic inside. Cloe pressed her throbbing temples and continued slowly.
"Anyway, I'm not that mystery person, and I have zero connection!"
"Yeah... true."
The woman nodded at Cloe's protest.
"So shouldn't you apologize first...?"
"That too..."
She nodded, but her expression remained odd. Truthfully, Raniel—the woman—had plenty to say too.
'She looks way too similar.'
Identical, you'd believe.
A bit longer bangs than the traitor, a touch younger-looking... but that was it for differences.
Eyes, hair color, skin.
Even the voice matched.
'How can someone resemble another this much?'
The aura too.
This girl had profoundly alien mana. Chilling mana. Raniel clenched and unclenched her fist under the table.
'And the situation when we met?'
The girl sat where Cardi should be. One hand holding a broken flask. The other smeared with red liquid.
Dark red viscous fluid pooling on the floor.
Shattered flask.
And the sharp, acrid potion smell.
From Raniel's view, not misunderstanding that scene would've been harder. Chewing her lip, Raniel spoke slowly.
"Sorry. Must've been a mistake."
"...You didn't actually hit me, so I'll let it slide. Just be careful next time."
Even saying that, the girl stayed guarded. Raniel did too. Staring piercingly, Raniel asked.
"...So, what's your name?"
"Huh?"
"Your name."
The girl answered Raniel's question.
"Cloe."
At the name, Raniel's eyes widened slightly. Cloe. The hero candidate she'd scouted ahead. Raniel's eyes sparkled.
'Ah, heroes might have alien mana.'
Her wariness flipped to delight.
Raniel's voice softened.
"Ah, you're Cloe?"
"...Who are you acting like you know me? Do I know you?"
"Yeah, I know you. Very well."
Raniel beamed.
At the smile, Cloe recoiled in horror. The attitude shift was instant. To Cloe, clueless on why, it was creepy.
'Knows me well?'
What were those earlier words then?
'...What the hell.'
New breed of con artist?
Definitely not normal.
"Huh? What're you doing?"
"Talk from there. Keep... some distance. Us."
Cloe put space between her and Raniel.
Author's Note (Afterword)
Beware of scammers (not really)!