The Road to the Capital (1)
The artificial body designed with a magical-girl mascot in mind turned out sturdier than expected.
If something that light—barely the weight of a fourteen-year-old girl—could wreck it, how was it supposed to support anyone against actual monsters?
"How could a servant of Lord Dantalion commit such a sacrilege? If that is what you desire, I will atone with my life…"
Of course Yoanna had no way of knowing any of that.
Having smuggled Dantalion upstairs without her parents noticing, she dropped to her knees at once. With a grim face she drew the dagger from the sheath strapped to one leg and set the blade against her own throat.
Dantalion, who had just finished reforming his shape, flailed his hands in panic.
"This body is built on a slime base, so its impact resistance is excellent. There is no need to worry so much."
"But—!"
What fourteen-year-old even considers suicide?
After barely managing to talk her down, Dantalion moved on to the real reason he had come.
"Yoanna, I appeared in this form because I have a proposal for you."
"You need not propose anything, my lord. If it is your command, I am ready to carry it out even at the cost of my life!"
"…"
I was trying to raise her into a kind, decent child. How did she turn into a fanatic?
Dantalion found himself re-examining his educational methods. He had never said anything bad. He had never once mentioned anything that reeked of blood.
This is exactly why emotional education has to start young…
He clicked his tongue inwardly, thinking of Albert. It was a pity he could not add extra punishment for the sake of fairness—he had already sentenced the man.
A cough cleared the air, and he continued.
"Your spirit is admirable, but it would be better to think this over a little more carefully."
Snap!
He flicked his fingers and summoned a black scroll. Since the body was based on a magical girl, he felt obliged to respect the conventions of the genre. A contract, at least, could not be skipped.
"This is a contract that will strengthen the bond between us. It is rather binding, so examine the terms thoroughly before—"
"Yes?"
Yoanna snatched the scroll and signed it with the quill that appeared in midair. Naturally she did not read a single line. Her claim that she would stake her life on Dantalion’s commands had not been empty words.
Before he could stop her, her name was engraved on the contract.
Whoosh—!
The finished document vanished into the flames of Hell. The fire twisted into chains that wound around both of their souls, etching a soul-to-soul covenant into each of them.
"…"
Dantalion stared at her in silence. He had prepared carefully so she could avoid an unfair contract, and she had not even glanced at it once. Was that not a little much?
Even without a face, his mood was easy enough to read.
"L-Lord Dantalion hates sin more than anyone! I never thought you would put anything wicked in a contract…"
She looked up at him like a puppy that had just been scolded by its master. But Dantalion was the Chief Justice of Hell, a Great Demon who had spent more than a thousand years judging sinners. Tearful appeals were the most basic dodge in the book, and he had sentenced countless people who tried them…
"…Still, make a habit of reading contracts. Remember that."
"Yes!"
It worked surprisingly well. Then again, Yoanna was not a sinner dragged down to Hell. More importantly, she had chosen this out of trust in him; scolding her for that would have been unkind.
"Very well. I will summarize what the contract contains."
"I will not miss a single word!"
She straightened into a respectful posture, eyes sparkling. Dantalion gave a quiet chuckle and explained slowly so she would not miss anything: assistance in wielding the power he had granted her, new abilities according to her growth, everyday counsel while they acted together, and so on.
Then, while she was listening intently, Yoanna shot her hand straight up.
"You may ask."
"When you say we will act together as usual…?"
"I intend to accompany you using this artificial body. If you prefer, I can remain hidden most of the time and appear only when needed."
He nodded as if the question were perfectly reasonable. At fourteen, adolescence was beginning; having a constant gaze on her—even from the one she served—could easily become uncomfortable—
Grab!
Yoanna scooped up Petit Dantalion, breathing hard, and shoved her face close.
"Th-That means you will keep watching over me from now on as well?"
"Yes. If it bothers you, we can keep a suitable distance—"
"It’s fine."
Her eyes looked a little strange. Was she really all right?
He continued explaining the rest of the contract, but Yoanna simply sat there grinning, kneading the Petit Dantalion on her lap. She poked its squishy head, perched it on her shoulder and beamed, then cupped it in both hands and rubbed her cheek against it.
The affectionate reaction filled Dantalion with quiet pride.
I was right to base it on a slime!
He had known slimes were popular monsters, but he had never expected her to like it this much. A Great Demon with no talent for sculpture suddenly felt confidence in his own creation.
"Hehehe… right beside me from now on…"
Her reaction was a little odd, but he decided to let it slide. The sensibilities of an adolescent girl were always hard for adults to understand. Truly, he was a broad-minded adult.
A few months after the contract, Yoanna underwent her coming-of-age ceremony.
Soon afterward a letter of recommendation from Yohanes arrived—nothing less than a recommendation to the Imperial Academy, the most prestigious institution in the empire. Naturally the city’s nobles learned that Yoanna would be attending.
"What?! Miss Yoanna is entering the Imperial Academy?!"
"Prepare a patronage gift at once. We cannot lose a future connection!"
"The mayor himself is sending a carriage and a donation. Considering the amount—"
"Then send a present. Something large and hard to move is useless; find something she can carry around easily, right now!"
When a celebrity is born in a rural town, banners go up. Graduating from the Imperial Academy practically guaranteed a golden road ahead. And if she somehow failed to graduate? With looks and character like Yoanna’s, finding a fine husband would hardly be difficult. Leaving a good impression on someone like that made a gift feel like nothing at all.
The nobles, unsure when she might leave, sent presents day after day.
"Father… even so, this is far more than the carriage can hold."
"Hahaha, people simply like you that much."
Yoanna surveyed the mountain of gifts packed into the carriage and sighed. She knew Clove was soft-hearted, but hauling every last present all the way to the capital was impossible. Climbing into the luggage compartment, she began sorting, tossing out anything unnecessary.
"I don’t need an extravagant necklace like this."
"Dresses? The academy isn’t a ballroom. What use are so many?"
"What’s the point of decorating a weapon with jewels?"
They say tidying begins with discarding. Without the slightest compromise, Yoanna removed everything she judged useless. Kind-hearted Clove looked uneasy.
"Still, they prepared all of this for you. Wouldn’t it be better to take them?"
"It’s not as if I’m never coming back. We can just store the rest at home."
"Mmm…"
She was not wrong, so Clove moved the items with a regretful face. Dantalion watched the slightly dejected man and nodded to himself.
He’s worried his daughter will be looked down on.
Displaying luxury to assert authority was a noble specialty. That meant a poor noble’s authority inevitably weakened. A father’s wish that his daughter never be slighted had probably made him pack even the useless ornaments.
"This one really is pretty, though…"
"…"
A dress so covered in floral patterns it bordered on excess—and he thought it suited Yoanna? For a moment Dantalion questioned Clove’s aesthetic sense.
A short while later Yoanna climbed into the now much cleaner carriage and waved to Clove and Messela.
"I’ll be going now. Please both stay healthy. I’ll try to come down for the New Year."
"Don’t worry about us. If it ever gets too hard, just come home anytime!"
"Darling, don’t sap her strength with talk like that already…"
"R-Right?"
Messela’s scolding made Clove scratch his head. Once the farewells were finished, she linked her arm through his left and steered him toward the house. Clove’s gait as they walked was oddly unsteady…
"Looks like they’re doing well."
"By the time I come home for the holidays I might have a little sibling."
For a former courtesan, that level of restraint was probably impressive. Watching the couple still act like newlyweds, Yoanna gave an awkward smile.
After confirming they had gone inside, she spoke to the coachman.
"Let’s set off. We’re not in a hurry, so please drive safely."
"Haha, I’ve been a coachman for twenty years already. No need to worry."
The old coachman shook the reins and the horses gradually picked up speed. As they passed through the city gate, Yoanna leaned out the carriage window. Watching her hometown shrink into the distance, memories flowed past like a river—Messela and Clove, the people she had grown close to at the church. Savoring those recollections, she closed her eyes and enjoyed the warm breeze. A spring wind carrying flower petals saw her off.
The road from a rural city to the capital was long. With nothing to do but ride all day, boredom quickly reached its peak…
"Today’s book is My Hero Academy."
"Wow! Thank you!"
Supporting her through it was Dantalion’s job. He summoned books borrowed from Sitri and stacked them in a corner of the carriage—all of them tales of good triumphing over evil, perfect for emotional education.
Sitting here watching her stare blankly would be cruel too.
In truth, Dantalion, who was riding along, suffered the most. Even Yoanna, used to a life without entertainment, found it hard to endure; how could he be expected to manage?
Confirming that she was reading with sparkling eyes, he was about to open a book of his own when—
"Kyaaaaaaaah!!!"
"Whoa, what was that?!"
A woman’s scream tore through the forest. The startled horses faltered. The coachman’s skilled handling prevented an accident, but the peaceful journey was over.
He opened the window toward the driver’s seat and spoke to Yoanna.
"Ah, it seems something dangerous is roaming nearby. It could be risky, so we should pick up spee—"
"Stop."
"Pardon?"
Yoanna closed her book and stepped out of the carriage. Caught off guard, the coachman climbed down as well. To his dismay she not only left the carriage but began rummaging through the luggage compartment.
"M-Miss, you aren’t thinking of chasing that scream, are you? It’s far too dangerous!"
He tried to stop her with a worried face. It was not that he underestimated her strength; he simply did not want to put her in danger over something that was not her business.
"This isn’t a sparring match. You could actually die!"
"It’s all right. I’m not without experience."
"Pardon?"
What was a young lady who had never killed anyone talking about? Summoning his courage, the coachman was about to try again when—
"I never thought I’d use Father’s gift this soon."
"Uh…?"
Yoanna drew a sword from the luggage. A greatsword forged of black iron, famous for being heavy as well as sturdy. She swung the blade—nearly as tall as she was—as lightly as a feather. A heavy gust born from the edge swept across the coachman’s face.
Sh-She’s stronger than the rumors…
He stared at her, dumbfounded. After a display like that, continuing to object felt awkward.
She untied one of the horses and mounted it.
"Would you rather hide until I return?"
"N-No, miss. I can’t let you go alone."
He simply could not bring himself to admit that staying beside her felt safer. Honestly, that would have been too embarrassing. Even with age, a man was still a man.