The Red Land (1)
Before the Coming-of-Age Ceremony, Shiron had a great deal to prepare.
Preparations for crossing the mountains. Preparations for establishing a foothold in the Demon Realm. And, in place of the broken black-iron sword, he needed to receive from Yuma a blade to put in Lucia's hand.
"How long do we have to wait?"
"Yeah, seriously."
The main gate of Dawn Castle.
It was still early enough that the sun had yet to rise. Their party, fully equipped for the journey into the Demon Realm, waited on Yuma, who had yet to return. Leaving aside the fact that Lucia had no sword, the absence of Yuma—who, alongside the family head Glen, was responsible for overseeing the entire Coming-of-Age Ceremony—was more than enough to keep them from departing at all.
"She's here."
Glen narrowed his eyes as though he had already seen something. A moment later, the figure of a woman came into view, a sword in one hand and a pouch in the other.
"My apologies. I was delayed by a matter that needed handling."
Yuma bowed her head, smoothing her slightly disheveled bangs. She had come in such a hurry that frost still clung to her clothes, not yet shaken free.
"Young Master. As you instructed, I have secured a sword."
"Good work."
Taking the blade from Yuma, Shiron narrowed his eyes.
A sword with a milky-white body and a black hilt—it was one he knew well.
A weapon available for selection by a Prien who has completed the Coming-of-Age Ceremony
The Fairy's Longsword was one of the weapons a Prien could choose after finishing the Coming-of-Age Ceremony.
So the place she said she was going was the giant's forge.
It was certainly better than a black-iron sword forged by mere human hands. Still, it fell short of Sirius, the blade obtainable in the late game.
With a faintly disappointed look, Shiron passed the Fairy's Longsword to Lucia beside him. She turned the milky-white blade this way and that, studying it.
...With something like this, I can see why he spoke so confidently.
The sword Shiron had handed over was light, first of all—as light as, or lighter than, an ordinary iron blade. She would need to wrap it in sword aura and actually cut something to be sure, but compared to a black-iron sword five times more vicious than common steel, what he had given her was, by ordinary standards, a fine weapon.
A faint smile started to form on Lucia's lips—then she wiped it away at once and fixed her gaze on Shiron.
"So this is the sword that forged the stars?"
"No."
"H-huh?"
"Finish the Coming-of-Age Ceremony first. We'll talk after that."
"Uh..."
Lucia's face went blank at Shiron's unexpected answer.
What's he looking at?
Shiron had not been speaking to her. From the moment he handed over the sword, his gaze had remained fixed on Yuma's hand.
"We should be on our way."
"...Yes."
At Glen's signal to the party, Lucia adjusted the pack that was nearly as large as she was.
Cliffs with nowhere to set a foot dominated the terrain, and slick slopes lined the way, but none of it posed a real problem for climbing a range that rose without end.
A bit of a hassle, but this much is fine.
Suddenly, a black shadow came rushing in.
Shiron swung the Holy Sword at once. The blizzard made it hard to tell what kind of monster it was—but fretting over a beast that had already turned to ash would have been foolish.
Ssshhh—
Sacred power pulverized the monster.
The Holy Sword alone poured out overwhelming holy force; when he layered on still more, every beast that charged them was reduced to ash and scattered on the wind.
Wouldn't it be better if they fell a little farther off? It doesn't hurt, but it has to sting the eyes.
Shiron glanced back at Yuma, who was following close behind. Whether from the cold or something else, her face was faintly flushed.
"Please do not concern yourself with me. Focus."
"...Right."
I should just do my own job properly.
Shiron gripped the Holy Sword and climbed the frozen slope. And behind him—
Watching him pull ahead, Yuma lifted the pouch and whispered into it.
"Did you see that?"
"W-what? See what?"
A terrified voice burst from inside the pouch.
"The Young Master's overwhelming majesty."
"..."
"Is it not magnificent? Answer me."
"Uh... yeah, that light was so bright I thought my one remaining eye was gonna crack."
"You have a discerning eye, then."
"Uh... sure?"
Dolby did her best to play along with Yuma's mood. She had found the woman hard to understand five hundred years ago; now it was even worse.
I already knew she was crazy, but has the mania gotten worse while I wasn't looking?
Unbidden, Dolby thought of a past so distant its colors had long since faded.
Yuma of Blood.
Before she lost one of her horns, she had reigned as a terror among humans. Looking back now the epithet might have been a touch exaggerated, but it had been given by the humans who fought her then, and Yuma had never been ashamed of it.
The way she led the demon hosts into battle had been so captivating that even young Dolby—still a child among the fairies in those days—had felt her heart race at the sight.
...How did she end up like this?
Dolby, who had once even held her in respect, could not help feeling sorry for the Yuma who now behaved so strangely.
What, exactly, had changed her?
After her horn was shattered?
After the Evil God betrayed her?
Or perhaps it had begun when she started raising those humans called the Prien. The sharp edge that had once lived in her eyes had, at some point, softened with something like tenderness, and honorifics that did not suit her at all began to spill from her crimson lips.
And now—
Yuma had abruptly started boasting to Dolby about the human she had raised.
"You."
"Huh?"
At the chill in that voice, Dolby swallowed hard.
"Are you watching properly?"
"Of course I am."
"Is that so? Then explain it. What just happened?"
"That's..."
Dolby narrowed her eye, scrambling to answer the sudden quiz. The world beyond the thin cloth was hard enough to make out already; with the blizzard on top of it, telling what had just occurred was nearly impossible.
But Dolby could tell.
Even with only one eye left, the magic eye granted by the god she had once followed was not hindered by mere obstacles.
Light shone before her.
Yeah, she's got every right to be proud. The beasts turn to dust the instant the light touches them. I don't think I've seen light like that in a very long time.
She had not seen it with her own eye, so there was no pain—but Dolby could gauge just how absurd an amount of holy power was packed into that radiance.
"...The light burned the beasts."
"That is insufficient. Say more."
"What more is there to say? He swings the sword and everything turns to powder. What's happening right now is just that, over and over."
"...Indeed. That is true."
Something like disappointment surfaced on Yuma's face as she lowered her head.
The main reason she had dragged Dolby along on a whim had been to leave open the possibility of meeting Atmos again—but there had also been a small desire to show an old acquaintance the Young Master's Coming-of-Age Ceremony.
As I thought—it was the right call to change the ceremony's contents.
Originally, the Coming-of-Age Ceremony meant surviving in the Demon Realm. But monsters that withered the moment the Holy Sword's light touched them could never earn more than a middling evaluation, no matter how many he cut down.
The other Prien who had gone on ahead, save for Shiron, used different methods, yet their speed in crossing the mountains was equal to his—or faster. There was a real risk that Shiron might look ordinary by comparison, so Yuma privately hoped they would encounter a stronger foe: an Apostle.
At last the party crossed the mountains and reached the Demon Realm.
So this is the Demon Realm.
Lucia crouched and scooped up a handful of earth. The red grains that sifted through her fingers registered, at first glance, as sand.
Unlike the all-white landscape they had left behind, the vista beyond the mountains was red from sky to ground.
Was there a place like this five hundred years ago?
She had traveled much of the Demon Realm while campaigning to subjugate the Evil God, but she had never seen red land. No doubt the environment had changed with the passage of time.
Five hundred years was long enough for new rivers to form and dynasties to rise and fall more than once.
Every monster we've met has been one I've never seen before.
Siriel was lost in thought as well. Crossing the mountains, she had fought more beasts than she could count. Of all of them, the only one she recognized was the frost wolf they had faced near the entrance. Everything else—form and strength alike—was beyond her experience.
The mountain monsters had been strong. She had gone on dungeon surveys at the Academy from time to time, but those had all been uninteresting small fry.
Unbidden, Siriel thought of Hugo, who still had not returned. She had seen his strength with her own eyes and knew that the monsters she had cut down were nothing to him—yet now that they had arrived in the Demon Realm, somehow her sense of what a monster was had shifted.
Far off, a shape like a mountain was moving.
The distance made it hard to discern properly, but it was almost certainly a monster. Just then, Siriel felt a presence settle on her shoulder.
"That is not an Apostle. So there is no need for you to face it."
"Uncle?"
"I thought it best to make this clear. An Apostle is not simply a monster that happens to be large."
"..."
"It seems we will have to camp here for the night."
Having spoken, Glen blinked several times, then began rubbing his eye sockets.
A scene that had been floating hazily through his mind was growing sharper by the second.
As if carved on the inside of his eyelids, the vision rose into clarity.
Red clouds. Scarlet rain.
Within it, armor jutted forth—and the landscape froze.
Was that as far as this prophecy went? He could not see the outcome of the Coming-of-Age Ceremony, but it was by no means the worst. There had been times when not seeing anyone's head fly off counted as good fortune. Glen was certain this was preferable.
If it comes to it...
Without a word, Glen fretted at the hilt of his sword.