Chicken Coop Smell #2
At last, he stepped outside.
Adonis stood blankly, gazing up at a massive pine tree blanketed thick with snow.
When he twisted his ankle with the slightest pressure, a crisp crunch answered him.
Sharp yet insignificant footprints stamped clearly into the pure white snowfield.
Even the air so cold it seemed ready to freeze his nose.
Everything felt both utterly strange and strangely familiar.
“Is the snow that fascinating?”
Crunch.
Semiramis approached, parting the snow with her black boots, and Adonis’s mouth slowly opened.
Since she intended to accompany him, she wore the kind of light armor mercenaries favored.
“I guess so. After being cooped up in the cave all this time, it hits different.”
“…I’m sorry. Had I known it would be like this, I would have brought you outside more often……”
Caught completely off guard, Semiramis looked thoroughly flustered. Adonis let out a soft, amused huff.
Witnessing the rare sight of a dragon being considerate was more than enough reason to laugh.
“Don’t feel too bad. Actually, it was cool inside the cave. Perfect for getting through the summer.”
“Truly?”
“Of course. Really.”
In the sweltering summer, people seeking escape naturally hunt for cool places. A comfortable hotel with endless air-conditioned breezes. The seaside, practically the face of summer getaways. And caves where chilly winds howl so fiercely they feel almost freezing. Adonis had spent his days in just such a cool cave without noticing time slip by.
There had been moments—staring only at cave walls for half a year—when a faint melancholy crept in, but they never lasted long. Spending every single day sealed away with Semiramis made that inevitable.
Sensing his sincerity, Semiramis cast off her darkened expression and smiled.
“Well then, I’m glad. Anyway… our destination is the Elf Forest?”
“Whatever the reason, Adonis is a hero the Empire points fingers at. He couldn’t bear the weight of it, abandoned his noble title, and left. Then he died.”
Adonis sighed, coolly laying out the situation he now occupied. It was the kind of clear-eyed reflection possible only because he was no longer the original Adonis. Had that Adonis never died, he would still be drowning in despair—never thinking to seek Semiramis, never setting out on any journey.
His appearance had changed enough that walking straight into human settlements would have been fine, yet Adonis hesitated. Because of that, he had settled on visiting the Elf Forest first. Elves were not the sort to be swept along by human-made public opinion.
Revenge mattered. Grasping the situation in order to achieve that revenge mattered just as much.
Semiramis reached that conclusion inwardly, yet the words that left her mouth were rather unexpected.
“Hmm. I’ve been thinking it over carefully… it seems like something that could be solved by casting large-scale magic capable of covering an entire kingdom a few times. From what I recall, there were several kingdoms and the Empire besides the Demon Realm… if the territories are the same size, one week per kingdom. Roughly three weeks for the Empire, and I could brainwash every human except your enemies……”
“Uh… uhh?”
The content was so thoroughly sinister that Adonis was more than a little taken aback. At a glance it might sound like the ranting of a madman, but when the one speaking those words was a dragon, it was no mere delusion. It was a chilling plan with terrifyingly high odds of success.
So Adonis hurriedly placed both hands on Semiramis’s shoulders and spoke in a low, steady voice.
“If you did that, it would put far too much burden on you, Semiramis. And I want to take my revenge with my own hands.”
“Adonis……”
He had only stopped her because he was startled, yet Semiramis looked into his eyes and was deeply moved. Had anyone else said the same thing she would have scolded them for arrogance, but with Adonis she showed an entirely different face.
“Ah… y-yes. Do as you wish. I’m sorry for being too hasty.”
“You did it because you were worried about me, right? I’m grateful. There’s nothing for you to apologize for.”
When Adonis’s right hand stroked her cheek, Semiramis’s expression brightened.
But then Adonis asked, wanting to know why she had suddenly shifted to such a radical conclusion.
“But… why the sudden change of heart? Originally you said we should travel the continent slowly.”
“U-umm……. It’s just that I thought finishing the revenge quickly might not be so bad either. That way there would be more days we could live comfortably.”
Comfortably. Hearing that word, Adonis looked more than a little moved.
Yet Semiramis, watching him, felt a twinge of discomfort at the lie. It had not been for any such fine-sounding reason. It had been pure greed—the desire to have him all to herself, intimately and completely.
“Anyway, the Elf Forest is quite far, so I said we would travel by warp, yes? Shall we leave at once?”
Semiramis asked with an embarrassed little cough. Adonis simply nodded.
Her lair and the Elf Forest sat at the extreme southern and northern ends of the continent; warp was the only sensible choice. Even renting a carriage with the gold in the inventory would take months. Of course they could have taken a carriage and slowly gathered information along the way, but Adonis wanted to reach the Elf Forest immediately. So the words “let’s go” came out as naturally as breathing.
“Ugh…!”
When had she fallen asleep?
Vivian, slumped over the table on the window terrace, opened her eyes while clutching a head that felt ready to split open. On the pure-white cloth covering the table stood six bottles of whiskey famous for its price. They stood guard with their transparent bottoms fully exposed.
The stamina that had once solidly carried her across the continent had bottomed out to the level of an ordinary woman. Her body, once sculpted with smooth, deer-like muscle, now carried soft flab in places. Her original beauty remained, yet no one could deny how sharply it had been diminished.
“…Damn it.”
Getting drunk was good—she could forget everything—but the splitting headache never got any easier to endure. Even so, the hours spent drunk far outnumbered the hours spent in pain, so Vivian staggered to her feet. She needed the liquor bottles the maids always tucked into the cupboard beside the bed, frowning as if the situation were hopeless while she slept.
Clunk.
Crouching to open the cupboard, Vivian stopped and turned her head. At first she thought it was the cupboard itself, but she quickly realized it was the door.
“Who dares enter without permission?”
She knew perfectly well that she had abandoned the entire management of the territory to the stewards, and that the shadows were thick with whispers criticizing her. But she was a countess of the Empire. A countess of standing. So she sharpened her eyes, ready to scold—
“Vivian. What’s with your appearance? That fair skin, that firm body… both have gone completely to ruin.”
Realizing the person who had opened the door was the last person she expected—Castro—her eyes flew wide. She had never imagined that he, an imperial count and combat instructor of the Central Knight Order, would come here. The same shock hit the servants who had guided him. The surprise she had felt upon first hearing he had arrived at the castle was still vivid.
“Cas… tro?”
“Yeah. It’s me. Sorry I kept putting it off with the excuse of being busy. Until it got this bad……”
“Castro!”
A sturdy frame, copper-tanned skin, white hair, and that heavy voice. It really was him. Vivian cried out his name without thinking and threw herself into his arms. Once, even leaping from a crouch would have been steady; now the motion looked dangerously unsteady.
Poor thing.
Castro pulled her into his strong arms and carefully stroked her long hair. Seeing the locks that had once been silk-smooth even in the middle of a battlefield now split and dry like dead reeds made his chest ache. If he had known it would come to this, he would have come sooner. Castro thought anew how terrifying the aftermath of NTR could be, then carried her to the bed while still holding her. He trained constantly; someone of Vivian’s size was nothing. He could have walked around with her in his arms for half a day without trouble.
“Tsk.”
He clicked his tongue, sat beside her, and draped an arm around her shoulders so she could lean against him. Her frail body offered no resistance and simply rested her head on his shoulder. Frail, and with no will to push him away—of course it was easy.
“What on earth happened?”
Breaking a silence as heavy as a boulder, Castro sighed and asked. His gaze stayed on her; the distance was close enough that a slight tilt of the head would bring their lips together. They had mixed bodies often enough during the Demon Realm expedition that there was no awkwardness. Only natural ease.
How?
Vivian hesitated over whether she could expose that utterly shameful wound, then steeled herself and spoke. She clung to the belief that Castro would never blame her.
“I… received an expulsion order. From the World Tree.”
“What? The World Tree?”
Expulsion order. A story heavier than the silence already filling the room made Castro start in surprise. He did not know the details, but he knew that for elves the World Tree’s will was as good as a god’s. Vivian herself had told him so in bed.
“Is that true? The World Tree expelled you? Why?”
“I… I’m dirty, they said. Filthy. That I betrayed the hero……”
As Vivian sobbed the words out, Castro’s face hardened. How could the World Tree have learned of the betrayal? It lived quietly in the northern lands and had never once stepped outside. He held the natural question, yet asked carefully so as not to wound her further. Even after half a year of neglect, the affection born of shared flesh did not simply vanish.
“How… did the World Tree find that out?”
“I don’t really know, but… the World Tree can see an elf’s soul. So elves can’t lie in front of it. Seeing the soul is no different from seeing straight through the heart.”
Seeing through the soul.
Castro stroked his chin with his free hand and fell silent for a moment. If the reason Vivian had drowned herself in drink was the World Tree’s expulsion, it also meant she had spent half a year quietly like this. Had she been furious over the hero’s betrayal she would have made some move. Yet the World Tree—and the elves—remained silent. It was deeply strange.
Vivian was an elf, yes, but she held a title in the Empire. Pressing her harder could be seen as interference in internal affairs. That was probably why the World Tree had stopped at mere expulsion. Castro settled on that conclusion.
“Being expelled means… you can’t handle spirits either?”
“…Yes.”
An expulsion order from the World Tree itself did not end with a wounded heart. It meant she could no longer use spirit magic—the power that existed everywhere yet only elves could truly commune with and command. No wonder Vivian’s voice shrank.
Expelled from the forest, body ruined by drink, spirit magic gone—a useless burden. Castro found the woman crying against his shoulder thoroughly pathetic, yet he could not simply watch her stay broken.
So—
“Vivian. So what if the World Tree issued an expulsion order? You’re a proper countess of this Empire, and more than anything, you have me. So just live for me. All right?”
“Ah…?”
She was too good a piece to throw away, and more importantly she was a countess with roots in the eastern Empire. Deciding she was worth keeping, Castro grinned as he spoke. Vivian’s eyes lit with sudden life—so bright it was hard to believe she had spent months with the hollow gaze of a drunk.
“For… Castro?”
“Yeah. I’m busy right now so it’s hard to see each other, but our relationship was always good, wasn’t it? Seeing you ruined like this hurts me too.”
“Ah… Castro……”
The reason was utterly selfish, yet to Vivian it felt like a revelation. An entrance to a new path had opened before her despair. As she stammered with open emotion, Castro continued.
“So what if you lost the spirits? You’re an outstanding archer and sniper. First, quit drinking. Start training again. I want to see that beautiful body of yours.”
“…Yeah! Okay! If that’s what Castro wants, I’ll do it!”
He whispered against her slightly longer, pointed ear, and Vivian answered as if she had been waiting for the words. Her voice was bright; her expression matched. She had found new hope.
From this day forward, for Vivian, the World Tree was Castro—true hope itself. She repeated that she would work hard, never noticing how she was sinking into that madness, and never seeing the expression Castro wore behind her gaze.