Omens of a Fallen Nation
The next morning.
I had planned to sleep in until it was time to leave, but a bit of noise outside pulled me awake.
I glanced at the bed. Lumine was already up and gone. Still, when I slipped my hand over the sheets, a faint warmth lingered—she couldn't have left all that long ago.
"Hwaaaah..."
"Hero Esilly!"
I stretched with a huge yawn and stepped out, only for the guildmaster to hurry toward me with quick strides.
I flinched for a second, wondering what was going on. He looked a little worked up, so I braced for some fresh disaster—but nothing about the scene screamed accident or emergency. The expedition members had formed a rough circle around something, peering down at it.
"Perfect timing! Tell me—did you freeze that thing like that?"
"Freeze... ah. Right."
Last night the racket outside had gotten so loud I'd gone out to check. A faint light had caught my eye, so I'd just iced the whole thing over. I remembered thinking it was better to freeze it than smash it—ice magic that would melt and put everything back the way it was.
But looking at the crowd now, they clearly weren't gathered just because a brazier or torch had turned into a popsicle.
"As expected of Hero Esilly!"
He clamped both of his ridiculously muscular arms onto my shoulders and shook me hard. At least give me a proper explanation before you start rattling me around.
"Honey? You really shouldn't shake Lady Esilly like that."
Thankfully the one person who could rein him in appeared, smiling sweetly at her husband. It was definitely a smile—yet the guildmaster must have read the hidden meaning in it, because he let me go at once. Of course he did. Grabbing another woman's shoulders right in front of your wife is a one-way ticket to trouble.
"More importantly, what's all this about? I remember freezing something last night, but I never checked what it was before I went back to sleep."
"What?! You froze it without even knowing what it was?!"
"I heard water dripping onto a brazier or a torch. You know—that sizzling, crackling sound?"
Curious now about exactly what I'd frozen, I pushed through the circle of people. Lumine was among the onlookers, I noticed.
But... what on earth was this?
It wasn't a brazier or a torch or a frying pan that had been frozen solid...
"Is this a monster?"
I spun around to face the guildmaster. He gave a bitter little smile, came up beside me, crouched down, and rolled the rock-hard frozen creature with one hand.
"So you really had no idea."
"I did it half-asleep."
"Lady Esilly, this monster is called a Gas Hatchling."
Lumine, who had been staring at the frozen thing for a long while, stepped up next to me.
Gas Hatchling? I'd never even heard of it.
"It's an ancient species that only lived on the Western Continent and was believed to have gone extinct. Recent research put the extinction date at roughly twenty-two million years ago."
"Whoa... so we found something incredible. Our sponsor lord is going to be thrilled."
"Lady Esilly, that isn't the important part."
"Hm?"
Not the important part? So there was something else?
Looking around, I realized everyone present seemed a little stiff. And I was the only one completely missing the mood.
"The ability a Gas Hatchling possesses is poison gas. Colorless, odorless poison gas."
"Poison gas?!"
"The amount one of these things can release is powerful enough to kill every single person in the Labyrinth City."
Then... if last night I'd just stayed in bed because the noise was annoying...
Our entire expedition would have...
"Probably... including you and me, Lady Esilly, every one of us would have died."
Lumine's voice caught a little, as if the words themselves were hard to force out. She clearly didn't want to say it, yet it was the simple truth of the situation.
A few of the people standing there bowed their heads, fists clenched in frustration. Everyone here had entered the labyrinth with grand dreams, only to come within a hair's breadth of dying on the very first day—poisoned without even knowing why. Nothing is more bitter or terrifying than dying without being able to do a single thing about it.
I, too, stood there for a long time, staring down at the frozen Gas Hatchling.
Meanwhile, at that very hour, a wave of tension was sweeping across the Central Continent.
The border region that had been quiet only yesterday was suddenly changing.
Until the day before, each side—kingdom and empire—had stationed a hundred and fifty soldiers along the frontier. The empire, which had already tried to invade the kingdom once, didn't place much real importance on the border; their presence was mostly for show, to keep the kingdom from crossing into imperial territory.
"What the—?! There are even more than yesterday!"
"Quickly! Send a dispatch rider to headquarters in the capital at once!"
"Yes, sir!"
Yet that lukewarm empire had begun reinforcing its border troops. At first it was only about ten extra men—small-scale. But as the numbers kept climbing, the kingdom started matching them. Before long the mutual buildup was spreading like wildfire.
At the start the kingdom's soldiers had answered the empire's reinforcements with defiant fire of their own. But as time passed and strange rumors began to circulate, an uneasy tension settled over them.
The Foreign Minister's defection to a third country. Esilly von Yggdrasil's discharge from service.
The story that the Foreign Minister had fled into exile had been laughed off as pure nonsense—who would believe something so absurd? But the rumor that Esilly von Yggdrasil had left the military hit like a critical blow. Alone, the Foreign Minister tale was just ridiculous gossip; paired with the second rumor, the two fed off each other and exploded.
As a result, the kingdom soldiers stationed at the border began to feel genuine fear. If war broke out again, they realized, their chances of surviving on the frontier were zero.
And so, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, discharges and desertions followed. Those who had already completed their mandatory service simply mustered out. The rest smuggled their families across to the empire first, then deserted themselves.
In truth, this too was an imperial operation. Kingdom citizens had never been allowed into the empire—until the infamous "panties letter" incident involving Esilly von Yggdrasil. After that, the empire deliberately spread word among the kingdom's soldiers that asylum was now permitted. The rumor reached the common folk who already distrusted the kingdom, and the capital's population dwindled until citizens were scarcely to be seen on the streets.
"Why did you simply stand by and watch our people pour out of the country?!"
Only then did the king explode at the ministers reporting to him. He surged to his feet, yanked the sword from the Grand Knight Commander's scabbard, and leveled the blade at the man's throat.
The Grand Knight Commander said nothing, merely bowed his head.
"Speak! Grand Knight Commander! Explain yourself—why did you take no action whatsoever?!"
The louder the king's voice grew, the thicker the tension became—and the thinner the king's own dignity. Here was a foolish monarch who had failed to root out the nobles who deceived him and lined their pockets, now holding a blade to the throat of the commander who had failed to stop the exodus of his people. Royal majesty no longer existed.
Yet he was still the king. Even a foolish one. The Grand Knight Commander, sword at his neck, finally opened his mouth.
"There are... no soldiers left to stop them, Your Majesty."
If he had said there was no justification, or that people would simply force their way across the border anyway, the king might at least have had something to rage against. But there were no soldiers left to stop them. The soldiers themselves had already fled abroad—empire or elsewhere—alongside the common folk.
The Grand Knight Commander spoke that single sentence and then stood trembling, hands shaking. Not only the king's pride had hit rock bottom; so had the pride of the man forced to utter those words.
Clang!
Seeing those trembling hands, the king let the sword slip from his grasp. It struck the floor like his own authority. He stared at it for a moment, shoulders slumped, then climbed the steps and collapsed onto the throne.
If it had only been a lack of troops, he could have conscripted the people. History would have branded him a tyrant forever, but at least the nation might have been saved. Now, however, even the people were gone.
Everything was finished. Only a short while ago he had pictured a kingdom shining brilliantly after victory in war.
Then it came to him—the one remaining hope that might still turn this situation around.
Esilly von Yggdrasil.
Nearly four weeks had already passed since he ordered that elf girl found and persuaded to return. Four weeks was more than enough time to travel to the Western Continent and back.
"Grand Knight Commander. Has there been any word from Knight Commander Orca, who went to find Esilly von Yggdrasil?"
"At present every ship between the Western Continent and the Central Continent has stopped sailing, so we have received no report or letter... but three weeks ago we confirmed the departure record of Knight Commander Orca leaving for the Western Continent."
"Fortunate. Then perhaps a thread of hope still remains for our kingdom."
The king exhaled in relief, clinging to that last lifeline. At least the kingdom would not fall—or so he believed.
But until the day they died, none of them would ever know the truth: that Knight Commander Orca's departure record had been forged with a bribe paid to a harbor clerk.