Omen
"Hmm... now this."
"What do you make of it, Captain Alta?"
"No matter how I look at it, it's a Shadow Bear. A Rank 7 monster."
"Rank 7! That's a strong one! Thank goodness nobody died."
We arrived back at the village without further incident, and Sophia went straight to find the Village Chief.
The Chief didn't exactly possess extensive knowledge about monsters, but as luck would have it, Alta happened to be with him at the time and identified the bear we'd brought back.
Alta clapped Hajun and me on the shoulders, praising us for a job well done.
"You actually managed to take this thing down? It's built for stealth, and its magic is specialized for absorbing impacts — a real pain to fight."
"...We got lucky."
"From Rank 7 on up, luck stops being the deciding factor. Well, we can trade stories later. More importantly..."
Monster ranks climbed from the bottom at Rank 10 all the way to 1st Rank.
Rank 10 monsters were weak enough that even ordinary civilians could kill them, while Rank 7 was said to be the level where only a seasoned warrior stood a chance.
And from Rank 7 — where the magic stone changes color — monsters became incomparably stronger than Rank 8.
So I'm at that level now, huh?
"A monster of that caliber appearing near the village — something we'd only expect to see in the very earliest days of settlement — is unmistakably a problem. There are two possibilities: the Suppression Device has malfunctioned, or something is happening that even the Suppression Device cannot suppress."
"Is there a problem with the device?"
"I checked on it just a few hours ago. It looked perfectly fine. But I'm no technician, so perhaps you should request personnel from the Guild?"
"Hmm..."
A gray-haired old man, his pale locks swept back in immaculate order.
He looked less like a rural village chief and more like a city administrator, and he turned Alta's words over in his mind for a long while before finally letting out a terse remark.
"...It seems the thing Granny Ryu has been warning us about is finally coming."
"That's certainly possible. I've never once heard of the Suppression Device failing before."
"So the form it takes is a monster attack? Unlikely, but it was one of the scenarios I anticipated... In that case... Alta will act as our envoy... the vacant post will..."
Etching the word anguish into his brow, the Chief paced around the room, murmuring things none of us could follow.
Several minutes passed like this.
At last, he seemed to have sorted out his thoughts, and looked us and Alta up and down before speaking.
"Captain Alta, I need you to go to Bolston and make contact with the Guild and the trading company. No one in this village can move as fast as you."
"Hm? Me?"
"Yes. For the Guild, simply attach the pretext that the Suppression Device may have malfunctioned and request an investigative team. As for the trading company — those money-mad fools will come running the moment you beckon. I'll write you a list of goods I need purchased."
"But if I'm handling the trading company as well, no matter how quickly I move, it'll take a month round trip at minimum. With me gone... Ah! Of course — you two."
Alta, who had been scratching his cheek in helpless confusion at the Chief's orders, caught sight of us and let out a cry of realization.
Huh? What about us?
Don't tell me...
"I'd like you two to fill in for Alta while he's away. Take charge of the village watch."
"Er... are you sure it's all right to entrust us with such a heavy responsibility? We've only been in this village three months."
"You have Granny Ryu's endorsement, but more than that, I've been quietly watching you. You're remarkably diligent. Taming a brute like Ivan, and bringing down a Rank 7 monster — your abilities speak for themselves."
This Village Chief has remarkable decisiveness.
He was willing to hand the village's defense to us — practically foreigners.
And once Alta was gone, there would be no one left to stop us if we meant harm.
Then again, was taming Ivan really on par with slaying a Rank 7 monster?
"Well... if the Chief is comfortable with it, we'll take the village watch for the time being. No promises we'll be any good at it, though."
"What a relief. If not for you two, I never would have risked sending Alta out."
"It seems the matter is more or less settled. I'll depart early tomorrow morning, then."
"I'm counting on you."
"The Chief is playing a rather cunning hand, isn't he?"
"Hm? Cunning? Was I wrong to put you on the village watch?"
"No, that's not what I meant. I'm talking about the Guild and the trading company."
On the way to Granny Ryu's house, our share of bear meat in hand, Noah waited until she was certain no one was within earshot before murmuring in a low voice.
Cunning? What did she mean by that?
"Apparently this village, lying right beside the snowfields, gets hit by winter unusually early. Snow falls heavily enough to make travel impossible. Given the timing... that period would arrive in roughly a month."
"And?"
"The Guild's investigators and the trading company won't arrive with nothing but their own bodies. They'll bring escort mercenaries, no doubt. And by the time they arrive, the roads will be buried in snow — they could end up stuck in this village for weeks. Which means..."
"Oh! The village's fighting strength gets a boost!"
I finally slapped my knee in realization.
The Chief had chosen a way to dramatically and temporarily increase the village's forces in case the worst came to pass.
And legally, without spending a single extra coin, no less.
Not many people believed in uncertain prophecies, so leaving that part unmentioned wasn't illegal — but it was certainly a scheme that deserved the word cunning.
"Terrifying man... He really was a merchant once, I suppose."
"If you don't want anyone finding holes in your story, you'd best work hard at the village watch too."
"...And that's how things turned out."
"Oh? So Alta's heading to Bolston? Now that's a new future."
"Excuse me?"
"Nothing, nothing at all."
Lunchtime.
We dropped by Granny Ryu's house — partly to satisfy our curiosities, partly to grab a meal.
We'd visited so often that I'd once worried we were being a nuisance, but Granny Ryu said she enjoyed having someone to talk to and that we were welcome anytime, so we could stop by without any burden.
After exchanging faces dozens of times over three months, we'd grown fairly close.
"So what are you curious about this time?"
"Ah, well..."
I pulled Obsidian from inside my coat and laid it on the table.
Its undulating blade, without a single nick, glittered beautifully in the sunlight.
"Something about this weapon feels off. I came on the chance you might know something about it."
Obsidian was presumed to possess the property of defeating magic itself.
I had subtly asked Alta about it too, but he seemed to know nothing.
"Come from the Ruins, did it?"
"Yes."
"Then it's a relic. That's a pricey thing — don't go flashing it about carelessly."
"Of course not."
"Good. Now then, let's see..."
Shaaak—
Granny Ryu closed her eyes and gripped the dagger's hilt.
A mist-like haze of shimmering magic seeped toward Obsidian... and was pushed right back out.
She flexed her tingling fingers, rubbing her temples as though struggling to recall something.
"Did you find anything?"
"No, I haven't the faintest idea."
Huh?
"I don't know what you all take me for, but I'm hardly omniscient."
"...Well, can you blame us for the misunderstanding, when that's how you presented yourself from the start?"
"Kekeke... My apologies, then. Still, it's not as though nothing comes to mind."
Lunch today was steak from the bear I'd caught.
Granny Ryu chewed and swallowed the meat, all but boasting that her teeth were still perfectly intact.
Consider that claim retracted, then.
Only after she'd cleared every scrap of meat from her plate did Granny Ryu continue.
"There used to be a rumor that circulated quietly among the nobility."
"What kind of rumor?"
"That in the deepest chamber of a Ruin whose excavation had never been completed, there lay a room that could not be opened. Something like that."
"Hmm? Sounds like a fairy tale."
"The interesting part is why the room couldn't be opened. It was supposedly made of a metal that magic could not touch in the slightest. Incredibly hard, and impervious to mana — so naturally, there'd be no way to open it."
"That's..."
"Right. The exact same property as this little dagger. Now, I can't say whether this thing is connected to that rumored Ruin, but a weapon that magic cannot touch is a tremendously dangerous thing in its own right. Keep it far from other people's eyes, I beg you."
At Granny Ryu's solemn warning, I nodded.
I'd better save this as a last resort.
Indulgently, we even finished off dessert after the meal.
I hadn't gotten a complete answer about Obsidian, but I'd come away with a working theory, so I was satisfied.
Still, I simply couldn't contain my curiosity about the future any longer.
"By the way — couldn't you tell us exactly what's going to happen in a few months? It's not as though we're going to run away at this point."
Now that I'd been placed in charge of the village's safety, even temporarily, the crisis Granny Ryu had warned of weighed heavily on my mind.
If she'd just give us the broad strokes, preparing would be so much easier...
I couldn't understand why someone so capable would keep her warnings so frustratingly vague.
But at my question, Granny Ryu shook her head and instead threw one back at me.
"Knowing the future, or not knowing it. Which do you think is better?"
"What does that have to do with our conversation?"
"Humor me."
"...Knowing, obviously."
I tilted my head at her cryptic question.
Knowing the future was clearly the better option, wasn't it?
If I'd had that kind of power, getting rich would have been nothing.
"Even if you could never change that future... what then?"
"That's... hmm. No, I suppose not."
Come to think of it, while knowing a good future might be pleasant, being unable to change a bad one would be a serious problem.
It was a staple of movies, after all.
An unchangeable future... wasn't that basically what people called fate?
But did fate truly exist?
"Fate, by its very nature, is fluid — but there are fates that cannot be changed."
Granny Ryu nodded with a firmness I had never seen from her before.
It wasn't the posture of someone believing in something intangible — it was the conviction of someone who had seen undeniable proof.
Faced with a belief that bordered on faith, I found I couldn't raise a single objection.
"The moment a future is observed, it begins to exert influence on the present world. All of creation starts moving toward that particular future. Of course, a single glimpse doesn't lock the future in place entirely... but the paths leading toward any future other than the observed one begin to wither and die. Think about it — how would you prevent a future from becoming fixed?"
"...You'd need as few people observing that future as possible? Oh — so that's why..."
Only then did I understand what Granny Ryu was getting at.
Only when many people remained ignorant of a future could that future be changed.
What a profound irony.
"Precisely. The more observers there are, the more rapidly the probability of the observed future becoming fixed rises — until it becomes a future that can never be avoided."
"Hmm..."
The light-hearted atmosphere had grown as heavy as the weight carried in Granny Ryu's words.
I had only meant to ask about the danger looming over this village...
And suddenly we were discussing the future and fate itself.
"So it's best not to ask for specifics about the future. Well, in your case, it might not matter even if you heard them..."
"Sorry? Why would it not matter for us?"
"...A slip of the tongue. Age clouds the mind, you know. In any case, your current state suits you perfectly."
"Hold on. Specifically, how many people have to observe a future before it becomes fixed?"
Noah, who had been listening quietly, interjected.
She seemed to have taken an interest in this decidedly unscientific topic.
"Ahhem... there's no set number. Fate is a delicate mechanism — it shifts constantly with circumstances. However, if a being of sufficient power intervenes, the sheer force it carries can fix a future in place completely. I learned that bitterly in the Imperial Capital..."
Granny Ryu smiled thinly as she gathered up the dishes.
I was desperately curious what had happened back then, but she clamped her mouth shut and exercised her right to silence.
It wasn't as if I could pry it open, so the question had no choice but to lie buried in my heart.
We finished our meal and headed home.
And then...
A month and one week passed.