Memories of a Bashful Little Cavalryman’s Homecoming (1)

The Emperor was bewildered by an unfamiliar emotion.

If one possessed a body weight of seventeen tons capable of shattering boulders and a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠bite force strong enough to tear apart ancient trees, it became rather difficult to dwell on negative thoughts. After all, the entire world could be treated as a stress-relief punching bag. However, this cold, filthy, and obscenely sturdy alloy cage had forced the Jungle Emperor to discover a delicate inner world he had never noticed before. For the first time in his life, Imperatosaurus was truly feeling the weight of melancholy and loneliness.

The proud monster, who had been wandering through a nap, snapped his eyes open. Someone was speaking to him in the growl of the jungle. The voice echoed like a whisper from within the cave.

From the sewer hole used to clean the cage, someone popped out with a plop. The tiny Lizardian introduced himself as Akweba Kakchlo.

A sunless underground. Having lost count of how many days he had been trapped, the sense of welcome was all the greater. Imperatosaurus sprang to his feet and began stomping wildly. It was his way of expressing positivity and joy.

Imperato lay down, and the growl expressed satisfaction.

How warm a helping hand could feel in the worst of situations. The Emperor, a powerhouse who had never needed help before, felt yet another unfamiliar emotion rising within him. Imperato listened with full attention to his friend’s words.

“That’s what he said.”

The Jungle Emperor rather liked the story Akweba had told him. Like most dinosaurs raised by Lizardians, he hadn’t understood more than half of it, but that was fine. The Eleim had no idea what was crawling around inside their sewer pipes. Thanks to that, Akweba could glide through the underground like a cat, delivering his strategies. Back and forth between Nathan’s solitary cell and Imperato’s cage.

“I can’t believe how grateful I am.”

It was a sincere statement. But the thanks ended there. There was something far more urgent than the fact that he had successfully persuaded the largest enemy of his lifetime.

Nathan grabbed the gap between Imperato’s teeth and shoved his face close.

“By the way. Don’t you think it’s about time you explained at least a little?”

“Explained what?”

Akweba, who had been staring blankly at Nathan, averted his gaze.

“There are too many eyes watching. Let’s stop talking. Even whispering is dangerous.”

Nathan’s teeth ground together. He was right. If they were caught pulling strings, there was no telling what would happen. Intellectually, he understood Akweba’s words. But the bruises dyed deep into his soul—

Nathan’s imprisonment was not supposed to be as brutal as everything he had endured until now. At first, he had fought in perfect condition. Heavy armor, weapons, a solid lunch. He had planned to prepare just as thoroughly until the final match. With the support of Beni’s technology enterprise Galarhorn, the Peres family led by Aspen, and the secret faction of Santra’s supporters spread throughout the Heavens—the Hedonic.

But at some point, they had all vanished. Every kind of support had been cut off. He could receive neither weapons nor proper meals. The reason remained unknown. No one came for visits, and not even the smallest piece of news reached him.

The only sliver of information he had managed to catch from fellow prisoners was that Galarhorn had suffered defeat in the Gladiator Fight and was reeling. That was all. When he asked how badly they were reeling, the fellow prisoner had hurriedly left. No one would tell Nathan anything more.

Only a few perverse bloodsport enthusiasts who had taken an interest in him, and some illegal gamblers who had risked a beating to bet on the long odds, had tossed him a few coins out of pity so he could fight. Without them, he would have had to face the monsters and executioners with nothing but a piece-of-shit dagger or a wooden club. In fact, he had often been forced to fight bare-handed.

In contrast, his opponents had suspiciously deep pockets. Enough money to buy every murderous creature and weapon in the world and still have plenty left over.

Isolated. Abandoned. With each desperate, lonely struggle, a drop of poison accumulated inside Nathan. Even now, that poison was burning through his nerves.

He had neither seen nor heard anything for four years. Not about Aspen. Not about Beni. If only someone would bring him even the tiniest scrap of news.

More painful than the ever-increasing wounds was his heart. If Akweba had not visited occasionally to talk, he would have gone mad. Yet even Akweba Kakchlo would fall completely silent whenever the conversation approached the heart of the matter.

Couldn’t he at least say whether Aspen and Beni were still alive? Would it cause some great disaster if he told him? Every time Nathan had growled those questions into the sewer, Akweba had answered the same way.

Would it cause a disaster? Yes. A very serious disaster. One you would never want to see the result of.

Akweba would unilaterally end the conversation. I cannot claim to understand your feelings. But wait. There is no other way.

That same resolute attitude continued even now.

“You still don’t believe me, brother?”

“If I said I don’t, what would you say?”

“I told you, ‘by today.’ There isn’t much time left. Like I said last time, it ends at midnight tonight. I swear on my life. When midnight comes, everything will be resolved.”

“What ends and what gets resolved?”

“I can’t tell you more than that. Stop talking to this side and go. Before we both get caught and everything goes to hell. Go curse out those disappointed pointy-eared spectators or something.”

It seemed the end of the wait Akweba had hinted at was still far away. Nathan nodded and stepped back. If he dragged things out any longer, they might start to suspect something. He had already endured four years. Surely he could last until midnight tonight.

No. Something would definitely happen before then. Maybe the citizens would throw stones, screaming to crack open his skull. Or a gang of thugs suddenly overcome with patriotic fervor would pick a fight. Or some power-mad bastard who had hired an executioner to kill him, only to fail, would nurse a grudge and send assassins instead.

At this point, such things felt as natural as breathing. The Heavens were a crucible overflowing with demonic bastards, and a significant number of them were vicious enough that they had no intention of leaving Nathan alone. He was almost starting to look forward to it. Just what kind of dogshit obstacle would try to devour him next?

“Yeah. I guess I’ll just have to meet the people involved face to face and talk to them directly.”

When Nathan bared his teeth in an innocent smile, Akweba flinched. He had tried hard to shake off the unease he had felt during their conversations, but now that they were face to face, there was no denying it.

His sworn brother was broken. Quite badly, in fact.

“I just hope everyone’s been doing okay.”

-----------------

The moment the match ended, the priests of the Conclave stormed in. They made a huge fuss, claiming the Sapiens must have plotted something. But they never discovered Akweba hidden deep within the dinosaur’s intestines. Even if they had, proving any connection would have been nearly impossible. Akweba, who could stop his own heartbeat and pretend to be a corpse, had planned to act as an unfortunate little thief who had been eaten by mistake.

In the end, there was only one thing the priests could do: inject Imperato with a sedative and transport him to the wildlife sanctuary.

Nathan waved at them with a satisfied smile as they left. A beast famous for its aggression, surrendering? What kind of sorcery had he used?

“I persuaded him with my eyes to surrender. I heard that gently suggesting something isn’t illegal, right?”

This bastard—was he admitting to manipulation?

“Manipulation my ass. Go look the dinosaur in the eye and tell it not to eat me. Sounds fucking hilarious.”

Whatever trick he had pulled, it would surely come to light. Judgment upon the villain who dared defy the sacred law!

“Isn’t the real crime dragging a poor creature like that in here and forcing it to fight? Poor Imperato. He probably had a home and a family somewhere.”

“What are you doing?”

“Practicing a war of words with the pointy-eared bastards outside who are just waiting for me to come out.”

Phyllis, who had been dragging Nathan along, blinked, then threw the door open. There were no angry mobs occupying the main road with eggs and rocks. Nathan was slightly taken aback by the quiet, empty back alley.

“This is different from what I expected.”

“Were you planning to leave through the front gate? Did you think I’d toss you to that pack of idle piranhas as dog food?”

The door Phyllis had opened was not the main gate. It was a staff entrance behind the arena.

If he admitted he had actually been looking forward to some conflict with a pounding heart, what kind of face would she make? Nathan decided not to make things awkward for the kind-hearted Phyllis.

Phyllis returned Nathan’s belongings, which had been stored in a box. Even the red longsword that had been too large to fit inside. Shouldering Morbi’s sword, which had been rolled up in cloth, Nathan spoke.

“I honestly thought you’d just throw me out. Like, ‘Deal with this Sapiens yourselves,’ to all those horned-up Eleim. How should I put it? Like the 101st fight or something?”

“We can’t do that. Not after all the bones my colleagues and I broke trying to stop your rampages and escape attempts. If you got crushed by a mere rock the second you stepped outside, I’d feel pretty damn wronged after all the effort I put into keeping you locked up.”

Phyllis removed her glove and held out her hand. It was an action Nathan had not expected.

“Take this and get out of here already. I’ve gained as many white hairs as the number of days you spent here. I’m finally starting to understand what getting old feels like.”

Nathan looked back and forth between her hand and her eyes, then awkwardly shook it.

“Sorry for ripping off your ear, breaking your leg, and bursting your guts.”

“You should include the time your heart stopped too. In my six hundred and thirteen years of life, I’ve never met a beast like you. Stay healthy. And don’t come back after committing more crimes.”

The senior prison guard, who had given his hand a firm shake, added one more thing.

“I personally respect the will you showed in seizing your own survival.”

Just as Nathan was about to feel moved, Phyllis added one final remark.

“But don’t go around telling people I said that.”

No one tried to stop him. It almost felt hollow. So he could just walk out this easily. Without a guard blocking the way, it was nothing but empty space.

After only three steps, Nathan stood outside the Punishment Arena and was overcome by an inexplicable emptiness.

“Now what the hell am I supposed to do?”

Only one thing came to mind right away: go find Beni. But he didn’t know the way to her mansion. He wasn’t even sure she would be there. Maybe she had built another clinic like the Graveyard House and was busy with work.

“Damn it. Would it have killed them to at least ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠tell me where to wait?”

He supposed things would work out if he just kept walking. With his sense of purpose blurred, Nathan walked weakly. Like a lost child. Like a thread whose end had been cut. Without even knowing where he was.

It was strange. Why did it feel so empty? When he had realized he had overcome everything, it had been so thrilling he thought he would go insane. What was this feeling? He should have left through the front gate after all. If someone hiding in the crowd had stabbed at him with a dagger, at least then he would have felt truly alive.

The unfamiliar scenery he faced against his will became increasingly unpleasant. The poorly maintained tiles on the street had merged into a single mass of mud. The stench of filth clung to every alley. Mixed in with the smell of beer was the scent of opium. Whoever was shooting that stuff up was probably going to drop dead.

The Heavens? Where in this place could possibly be called a world above the clouds?

An unfamiliar gloom swept away his drive. The fire that had been crackling in his chest died down. Even the poison he had harbored scattered thinly. The body that had trembled on the razor’s edge of battle now suffered from motion sickness on an ordinary, unthreatening impoverished street.

Years of sleepless nights fearing he would be stabbed to death. That exhaustion came crashing down on him all at once. So when someone’s shoulder bumped into his, Nathan realized he no longer even knew why he was standing.

“Damn it, watch where you’re going! You fucking Sapi—”

Not a Sapiens-like bastard. A Sapiens. You son of a bitch.

Just as he was about to collapse weakly, a familiar anger seized Nathan’s head. He slowly straightened up and looked down at the other person. The one who had been about to unleash a torrent of curses finally registered Nathan’s size.

“Ah, no, I’m sorry. It was my mistake.”

When the person who had fallen and gotten covered in dirt began to panic, Nathan clicked his tongue and looked away. Thanks to the hooded shirt Phyllis had given him as a final kindness, the stranger hadn’t recognized who he was. Not even that he was human.

Sapiens this, ape that. Bunch of idiots. They couldn’t even tell the difference if his ears were covered.

The Eleim tried to scramble up in a hurry but fell over again. Perhaps his thin, mouse-like ankle had twisted. It was an ugly, pitiful struggle. Nathan sighed and held out his hand. He didn’t think it was right to laugh and kick someone while they were down—that was something only pointy-ears would do.

“You okay?”

The Eleim, who had been blinking, grabbed Nathan’s hand and sprang to his feet. There was no discomfort in the motion at all.

“I think I’d feel better if you bought this for me.”

And with a smooth voice, he began a not-so-smooth sales pitch. The Eleim pulled something shiny out of the waist bag at his hip. Nathan began to consider whether smashing this guy’s head in would get him sent back to the arena.

What the pointy-ear had taken out was a badge with a clothespin attached. It was large enough to be slightly embarrassing to wear openly.

“I am an Honoravant of the Order of the Medal Keepers.”

“I didn’t ask.”

“There are things one can feel without asking. The love of the Heavenly God and our loyalty to the Heavens we live in are exactly that. Would you not like to participate in the great cause of the Heavens?”

The pointy-ear held the badge closer with a coquettish expression. The engraving on the small metal plate was interesting. Suddenly curious, Nathan lowered his head and accepted the badge. It depicted a face dying with a noose around its neck. The engraved image comically portrayed a hanging scene.

“Who’s this poor friend?”

“That infamous criminal of the Heavens. Did you know that the Sapiens Nathan Maia will be released if he wins just one more match? Do you remember that day of disaster that everyone still recalls? The bloody tears of the Eleim who lost their jobs when the corporate owners died? If the heinous criminal who started the war is allowed to roam the streets, the unemployed’s bloody tears will mean nothing.”

“Oh.”

“What greater tragedy could there be? If you agree that his public execution will restore justice, please proudly wear this medal and lend your strength to your neighbors’ opinions. It’s three hundred credits.”

The price was added quickly. Nathan was impressed by the smoothness of it.

“Ooh.”

When the hooded stranger tilted his head in a foolish manner, the Honoravant sang a song of joy inside. It didn’t matter what happened to a single Sapiens. What mattered was that this kind of sucker-selling worked. And the big guy in front of him was, based on experience, clearly the type of fool who kept people like Honoravants fed.

Then, in the next moment, the Honoravant nearly twisted his face in horror.

“But I don’t have any money.”

The Honoravant quickly recovered his sales smile. There were ways to handle it even if the customer was a beggar.

“But you’ve already accepted the medal.”

“I never said I’d buy it.”

“You accepted it, didn’t you?”

When the Honoravant spoke forcefully, several larger colleagues popped out from the entrance of the alley. Flanked by friends wearing the exact same sales smiles, the Eleim smiled even harder.

“Barter is also acceptable. Loyalty to the Heavens is not bound by financial—”

A refined demand to hand over his clothes, at least. But what came back was a far from refined sneer. When the hooded man began to chuckle as if he had lost his mind, the Honoravant decided the other party simply didn’t understand the situation. So he smiled kindly back, laughed out loud, then suddenly turned serious and yanked the man’s hood off.

The Honoravant immediately took several steps back and tried to shift the blame. Bad hand. This wicked hand.

“Your news intake is a bit slow, badge peddler.”

What had been under the hood was none other than the face of Nathan Maia. The worst prisoner in the Heavens was baring his teeth in a grin. As if he was overjoyed that this situation had come to him on its own.

“That bastard you’re talking about has been roaming the streets for about thirty minutes now, just like you said.”

Cold sweat dripped from the Eleim’s forehead. A hand gripped the shoulder of the Honoravant, who had been trying to run.

“Where are you going? You said it wasn’t free. I don’t have any money.”

It was a grip forged through truly brutal training. Strong enough to crush the shoulder, bone and all.

“You should at least take your medal back before you go.”