A New Life
All I had to do was pick them off one by one as they came down this narrow staircase, then walk out with the others.
For once in my life, I might actually be of some use.
I don't know how many hours passed like that, but a long while had gone by before the ceiling — or rather, the floor of the cabin above — began to thump with commotion.
"Check on the women first!"
How much nicer it would have been if those words had carried a positive meaning. I would have saved the day and lived to be called a hero.
Even now, I could feel my own heartbeat pounding clearly as a fight approached, and I still hadn't gotten used to it.
The doomed men began descending the stairs one at a time. The narrow passage had its advantages, at least.
For all the times I'd imagined this while waiting for them, there was actually plenty of room to swing an arm or two.
Not that anything would change.
Thwack.
"Aaagh!"
With a dull blade sweeping through the air, I raked my axe across the inside of a descending elbow.
I hadn't gripped it as short as before, but the reach was longer than a thrust, and it cost nothing in terms of incapacitating them.
The moment blood spilled, they lost the will to fight — no need to cut their throats. They were too busy clutching at the wound to think of anything else.
And since they'd gone and laid a weapon right at my feet, I couldn't help but spare them a few breaths.
Hurl the axe into one's chest — that's one. Scramble the fallen dagger into the next, quick and dirty — two, three.
Drive a dagger into the back of the one moaning face-down, clutching his ruined arm — four.
...Is that all of them?
For a bunch whose wanted posters hung on the guild board, it felt like a rather small operation.
When I glanced back on the off chance there were more, a woman held up a single finger — her index finger — and I understood the meaning at once.
...One more.
The one who was likely their leader was waiting just above.
So she'd sacrifice her underlings to lull the enemy into a false sense of security, then drag them out and finish them. Is that it?
Considering the terrain alone, it was no different from my own method — but feeding people into the grinder like that was a filthy trick.
I picked up the longest sword among the things scattered on the ground, and with my free hand, grabbed hold of a corpse.
Leaving behind those eyes that had brightened with hope, I began to climb the stairs.
One step, two steps — when I'd climbed about forty of them —
Thwack!
A whip?!
What greeted me was a rope lashed like a whip, striking near the entrance —
and a blade, stabbing over and over into the corpse I'd been holding up in front of me.
"What the...!"
The man staggered back in panic as his strategy turned to dust.
I hurled the blood-soaked corpse at him and charged in the same breath.
"...Kgh!"
Bending low, I knocked him to the ground and brought my sword down on his left arm.
"Aaargh!"
Even while screaming, he swung his weapon with his right hand in a desperate counter, so I fell back a step.
By the time he scrambled up and glared at me, leveling his blunt blade with a trembling hand —
"Kuhegh..."
— it was already the same reversed grip that had crippled his arm, now buried deep in his belly.
...Did I finish it?
He'd taken a wound close to instant death, and barely five seconds had passed; the breath would leave him soon enough.
Still, I drove the sword into his mouth and made certain.
Now, at last, it was time for the imprisoned people to go free.
I didn't take the bandits' heads.
There was no need to show anyone a scene more gruesome than what already awaited them.
And besides — even setting the request aside, there was a considerable amount of goods stored down below.
Leave the bulk for the people being freed, skim a fair share for myself, and the money would be more than enough.
More blood had gotten on me than I expected. Would I be all right?
They were adventurers, so surely they wouldn't faint at the sight.
I'd think about it once the sun came up. It was dark enough now that even walking was a strain.
A day spent in the cramped cellar beneath the cabin — an uncomfortable one, but a day nonetheless.
The moment light began to bleed over the ridge, I left the mountain with the others.
Their faces were gaunt and they looked drained of all strength, but even so, they showered me with thanks.
I took only the hand-axe buried in the chest of the felled bandit and six gold coins, and headed for the guild.
Bloodstained money, to be sure — but thinking it would keep me comfortable for over a year, maybe I was even in a good mood.
The residential quarter proper came into view, and after passing a few buildings, I pushed open a gate wide enough for four or five people to pass through together.
The sun was already high. The mountain had been farther off than I thought.
Had it been morning, the guild hall would have felt empty — instead, it was packed with adventurers.
First, I returned the hand-axe to its original owner.
Some people might balk even at having their own property handed back to them, but still.
And then I sat down far away from them. That was simply how I lived — besides, it was the seat I'd occupied yesterday.
The receptionist was busy, and the girls I owed my thanks to were nowhere to be seen.
Maybe I'd just get some shut-eye in my seat.
"Didn't I say I'd kill you if you came back?"
"...The older I get, the more precious the life I have left feels. Yesterday, I was simply too young."
Sitting back against the ambient noise of the hall was, unexpectedly, restful.
I closed my eyes just like that, emptying my head as if inviting sleep.
I'd ask for nothing else — only that no one come over to bother me.
And so, in the darkness behind my closed eyes, time slipped away uncounted — until footsteps, growing steadily louder.
Soon came the clink and clatter of something set down on the table where I sat.
Keeping my eyes shut, I played ignorant for now.
A smell tickled my nose, telling me a plate of food had been placed there. But it wouldn't be mine.
It struck me as odd that anyone would bother to sit with me, but I figured the seats must simply be full, leaving them no choice.
"...Eat it before it gets cold."
Not someone I knew well — but someone I knew.
I opened my eyes and studied her face for a moment.
Bright yet gentle, pale-gold hair; modest black clothing that brought a nun to mind.
She was surely no nun, but for convenience's sake, that was the name I'd given her.
The other two hadn't come with her, then.
I wanted to start by saying thank you, but I worried the word itself might sour her mood, so I held back.
All I had to do was sit quietly and attend to the food on my plate.
The onion was sweet and crisp. The sauce, carrying a faint hint of tomato, was good too.
I... do have money.
Even thinking of the gold coins tucked carefully away, I couldn't quite bring myself to speak up.
In the end, I simply emptied my plate in silence.
The party, still worn down from the day before, was taking a rest — one might call it having the reins pulled on them.
One of the two swordswomen who'd once been three — the pathfinder, Sasha — shut herself in her room at the inn and sank into thought.
Why does my chest feel this tight?
She tied and untied her long black hair, over and over, thinking of the man who'd always gone about with bandages wrapped across his face.
That man, who had thrown himself bodily into harm's way for her — someone he'd known barely any time at all.
He'd originally been a man of few words; the wound came when a clumsy teammate slipped mid-battle and fell.
Because of me...
She'd tried to apologize more than once, and stopped short every time — because he avoided conversation.
If he was uncomfortable with apologies, then she should at least have thanked him.
All she could do was clutch her bangs in both fists as though to tear them out and berate herself.
When word came that he'd left, she'd been shocked — and at the same time, relieved.
Surely any life would be better than the days he'd spent in that place.
With a ruined face and a ruined spirit.
She'd wondered, for a moment, whether he hadn't actually been driven out. But even that doubt lasted only a moment.
So did the times she'd stepped in when the others pushed him around.
Why was he even in a place like that? And why did I leave him to it?
Did he leave to live, or to die? The questions bloomed without end, and she only wore herself down further.
It's all because I'm an idiot. Every bit of it.
— "Sasha. Even if just for a moment — didn't you lose the way? It felt different from the transfer."
— "The frequency was lower, but it's a route I've taken several times."
— "I see. ...All right."
Even back then, the path she'd taken had been the correct one.
She simply hadn't been thinking of heading in that direction.
She'd lost her mind clutching at a thread she'd carelessly let go — a thread that never had any substance to begin with.
Forget it for a while. Focus on now.
For her, growing stronger came first. For the sake of the family that had been unjustly destroyed.
Compared to its boisterous atmosphere, the guild she'd newly joined had few adventurers.
Perhaps because of that, she felt more at ease here than in her old guild.
She'd trusted that fewer people meant less harassment aimed her way.
Bright yellow hair — too yellow to be called gold, though the difference mattered little — hair the color of beauty in full bloom.
She'd sat down across from him, slumped over the table, and peered up at him.
"Um, excuse me."
Had she spoken only after waiting for his mouth to open?
"Can you hear my voice?"
Her usual liveliness was gone, and she whined like a lazy cat.
"Can you hear meee?"
What was with this all of a sudden? She did seem the curious type, but still.
He only turned his head slightly.
"Seriously, you're so mean! I'm hurt! I saved your life, you know!"
Whatever she claimed, it couldn't be true. It was just a tantrum.
The "I'm hurt" part he couldn't quite follow; the "saved your life" part was debatable. Did she actually believe that?
It wasn't a difficult request, yet somehow the words wouldn't leave his lips.
"Eira, you're making him uncomfortable."
It was clearly meant as a scolding, but the voice was nothing but warm.
Hearing her name, the archer pouted — then just as quickly smoothed her expression.
"...Right, I'm not supposed to tease you. Sorry. I just wanted to be friends."
Was it that she hadn't yet been tarnished by the world? To be so unhesitating about getting close to strangers.
No words came, but as if to say this was no mere torment, he shook his head in denial as earnestly as he could.
"That's the biggest reaction you've given anyone so far. Does that mean stop teasing?"
He shook his head again.
"Then you do want to be friends?"
He nodded, and only then did the corners of Eira's mouth lift.
"That's all I needed. ...You're cuter than you look, mister."
Which one of them was supposed to be the cute one here?
But still — don't I smell?
Adventurers or not, sitting like this in front of girls in the prime of their youth hardly seemed proper.
He'd earn some money now. Time to rent a room and wash himself properly.