Interlude: Guiche in the Fortress City Lemea

In all his life, Guiche had never given anything too much thought. He left the impoverished, stifling village of his birth to go to the city, simply because he was talked into it on a whim by a bad friend. Once there, he was unable to find a decent job and applied to a mercenary band because he took their solicitations at face value. In the end, the mercenary band turned out to be nothing more than a group of glorified bandits, but rather than flee, he went with the flow and joined them in attacking merchants and travelers.

He found thinking to be annoying. Guiche had a vague inkling that such a notion was not a good opinion to hold, but he lacked the will to do anything about it. Naturally, his line of work didn’t last long, and the mercenary band was captured, their leader sent to the gallows. Guiche and the other underlings were sold off as slaves.

Guiche was taken to a mine alongside a great number of other slaves. The shafts were dark, narrow, and hot, and his fellow slaves died one after another from cave-ins or poisonous gas. He was convinced that he wouldn’t last long either, yet he did nothing.

Thinking was annoying. Even if there had been a way to escape, coming up with it and putting it into action would have been too much of a pain for him to bother. He only joined the revolt because it happened right before his eyes.

One night, Guiche was awoken by a commotion and found the overseers’ guardroom set ablaze. Corpses lay scattered about, and excited slaves armed with pickaxes, hammers, and stolen swords stood around them. From their conversations, he quickly learned that they had revolted. Guiche decided to go with them, and they stormed the slave owner’s manor, killing the fat, middle-aged man and his family before stealing all his wealth and setting his home on fire.

“Damn.” Guiche couldn’t help but mumble to himself as he watched the manor burn, grasping a pilfered gem tightly in his hand.

The slaves cheered, the enormity of what they had done finally sinking in. Their number had grown significantly. It seemed that the slaves working on the plantations had risen in revolt at the same time and joined up with them.

“We did it, everyone! We’re free now!” Guiche didn’t recognize the man who had brought the two groups together. He thought the man might have been a slave from the plantation, but looking back, he realized the man had already been there when they’d fled the mine. He must have been a fellow mine worker.

“Whatever.” Guiche didn’t give it any more thought. It was a pain, and more importantly, he didn’t really care.

After that, the slave revolt began attacking towns and villages. Attacking settlements was no simple feat—even small villages usually had numbers on their side. People would fight to the death to protect their livelihood. Wealthier villages had vigilante groups, and in towns, it was common to hire knight orders who doubled as patrols and guards. Only a limited number of settlements were susceptible to bandits. That was why they tended to target caravans.

However, it was a different story when it came to a force the size of the slave revolt. After seizing control of the mining and plantation town, the revolters’ numbers swelled to the extent that they could easily overrun a small town. After leaving their original location, they marched relentlessly in a single direction, claiming to be requisitioning supplies, but in truth, attacking every town and village along their path. Though the leader and his followers claimed it was in the name of justice, their actions were anything but.

Yet Guiche didn’t care.

“Heh heh. Damn,” Guiche muttered, unable to contain himself. He had cornered a village girl in a barn, a bloodstained knife in his hand.

He was watching something unbelievable unfold. He didn’t understand the man’s talk of freeing the slaves or abolishing the nobility, but he knew that he’d finally found excitement in his life that had been nothing but dull until now. Of that, Guiche was certain.

Every town and village they struck, they gathered up slaves and the downtrodden, drawing people whose circumstances mirrored their own into their ranks. At times, they would conscript people by force, but those people were treated as their personal servants and were sent in as the first wave when attacking a settlement. That made Guiche feel rather pleased.

Finally, the rebel army reached a fortress city. Though on the smaller side, it was still incomparably larger than all the towns and villages they’d attacked. Even with how much their numbers had grown, bringing down a walled city would be next to impossible—yet for some reason, the gates had been left open.

Passing through the unmanned gates, the rebel army silently advanced through the city. There wasn’t a person to be found. They eventually made it to the city center, where the rebel army came to a stop.

“Huh?” Guiche cried out in surprise as the clamor around him grew.

The city center was already filled with people. They didn’t appear to be residents of the city—it was a disorderly mob of people in ragged clothes, wielding swords, spears, sickles, and hoes. They seemed to be just as confused as the rebel army.

“Guess my job’s finally done.” A quiet murmur reached Guiche’s ears. The leader stepped forward from the mass of slaves. With a degree of refinement uncharacteristic of a slave, he called out to the rebel army. “Relax, everyone. They’re our allies. They’re followers of the Church of Sozo. Unable to endure their persecution in the southern lands, they rose up like us. They found the courage to strike down great evil, and continued their journey all the way here.”

Guiche had heard of the Church of Sozo before. As he recalled, it was some sketchy new religion that had grown popular among the poor. He had no desire to be lumped in with such people, but they had considerable numbers on their side as well. If either side were to make the first move, it would result in more than a minor skirmish. Guiche held his tongue, and the leader continued speaking with a wide smile.

“Let’s join up with them. We have the same goal, and together, we can accomplish more than ever.”

Guiche’s eyes went wide as a commotion broke out all around him. As the leader had said, if both groups united, they would become a force to be reckoned with. Forget towns and villages—they might be able to topple fortresses like the one they stood in. They would even be able to stand up to the feared imperial army. It might even be possible for them to occupy a large city and convert it to their own purposes.

“Damn.” Excitement built in Guiche’s chest. “Damn!” If they got their own city, Guiche intended to make sure he got a high-ranking position. If he became a government official, he could accept bribes and oppress the people who had looked down on him all he liked. He wasn’t sure what being a government official entailed, but as long as it made him important, he didn’t care. That said, he wanted a job that didn’t make him think too hard, if possible.

“So, first—ah, forget it.” The leader suddenly turned his head back, then cut himself off as though annoyed. A man who had seemed to be a religious leader had been giving a similar speech to the believers behind him, yet at some point, he had disappeared. Facing the slaves again, the man’s expression had turned uncaring. “Anyway, the rest is up to you. Good luck.”

With that, the man took off running down the street and quickly disappeared from view.

“Hey, he just left.”

“What are we supposed to do now?”

“Should we call out to those other guys?”

“Then what?”

Confusion broke out among their ranks.

Guiche was convinced he’d found his chance. If he spoke up now, he could become the next leader. Though he was nothing more than a member of the rebel mob, if he acted while the leader’s followers were still confused, he could quickly assert himself. He might even be able to secure himself a spot at the head of the government. His life started here and now.

Why did the man know about the religious group?

Why had he suddenly fled?

Why had he led them to this specific location?

Why was the city empty?

Doubts lurked in the corners of Guiche’s mind, but he didn’t dwell on any of them. It was a pain, and he had more important things to consider. What sort of speech would be most effective? Guiche pushed his rarely utilized brain to its limit and came up with an idea. An excited smile breaking out on his lips, he tried to compose himself as best he could before speaking. Just as he was about to open his mouth—

“The world is made of zeros and ones.”

A voice echoed through the city center. Guiche, the slaves, and the religious followers all looked up in its direction. A lone figure was sitting on the roof of a building overlooking the square.

“Nothingness and existence. Shadow and light. Frost and flame. Death and life. The world is full of opposing concepts, and with just those two numbers to describe them, everything can be explained.”

The figure’s stature was in-between—too small to be an adult, yet too large for a child. It was impossible to make out their gender. It was due in part to their androgynous voice and build, but more importantly, their entire face was wrapped in bandages, leaving no discernible features. The figure, their eyes covered, looked out at the group with contempt.

“By this theory, you all would be one. Though insignificant, you most certainly exist, and when gathered together, you become something greater. You’ve done well to come this far. I shall guide you from here.”

Both groups began to stir. There was a hint of relief in some of the voices. After being left bewildered by the loss of their leader, they seemed to let their guards down.

Guiche clicked his tongue. His plan to become the next leader had been spoiled just like that. Just who was that bandaged person?

“Nevertheless, I find that ‘one’ ill suits me,” the figure said in the same unchanging tone. “I prefer desolation over the clutter of variety. I prefer dim shadow to bright sunlight. I very much dislike the heat. It’s unpleasant, and I’m quick to burn. Oh, but most important of all—I don’t care for the living.” The figure had an open book in their hand. A moment later, particles of light began pouring out of it.

“Wh-What the?!” Guiche raised his voice in unease amid the murmurs of the crowd, but he could already hazard a guess as to what the book was. It could only be a grimoire, a book used by mages to summon monsters or objects. Though he had never seen one in person, and his conjecture was based purely on adventurers’ stories and bardic songs, he was confident. Which left one question—what was the bandaged person about to summon?

“You’re better off without your insignificant wills. Return to zero, and with my own will, I shall guide you in a systematic and orderly fashion.”

The particles of light began to take shape, then a bizarre monster appeared in the square.

“Wha...”

It resembled a giant lizard, with a thick tail and two wings on its back. At first glance, it almost seemed like the dragons spoken of in adventurer tales. However, it had seven heads. Around the central head, which seemed to belong to the original dragon, sprouted six others.

Each one was different. One was the slender head of a hydra, while another was the eyeless head of a wyrm. There was the triangular head of a wyvern, and the fish-scaled head of a sea serpent. On top of that, there was a long neck that ended in only a single giant, red eye, and a translucent head that appeared ghostlike.

Upon closer inspection, even its scales were mismatched here and there across its body. It had poor balance, perhaps due to the weight of its heads, and looked as though it might topple forward at any moment. It was clearly an unnatural monster. It looked as though someone had forcibly combined all the pieces.

“You can relax, I won’t do anything barbaric.” The hydra’s head drew back as the patchwork dragon’s chest swelled. “So die beautifully for me.” The hydra’s maw opened wide, breathing out a massive gust of wind. A moment later, it covered the entire square.

“Urgh...” A stench like rotten eggs assailed Guiche’s nostrils. He couldn’t stop himself from grimacing before being struck by a wave of nausea and pain in the eyes. “Gah... Ack...” Guiche coughed, unable to breathe. No matter how much air he inhaled, it didn’t fill his chest, as though a serpent were wrapped tightly around his neck. Tears ran down his face. Not from sadness—simply because his eyes couldn’t handle the pain.

Guiche lost all his strength. He collapsed face down on the ground, barely able to see the sight of all his allies around him in the same position through his teary eyes.

“Good, good, good. It’s not easy to secure so many corpses in excellent condition. This went perfectly. Since you’ve gone to such lengths to set the stage for me, I suppose I must live up to expectations.” Guiche heard an unpleasant monologue just before he finally lost consciousness. “Now, let us begin.”

A massive magic circle covered the center of the square.

Chapter 1

Act 1

For the first time in a year, Rakana’s mountains were covered in red leaves.

“Oh, Lamprogue and his party are back!”

“Our savior! Another big haul?”

“Leave some for the rest of us!”

“Ah, Seika! If you’re here to sell, please come to this open area.”

All sorts of voices called out to me when I returned from the dungeon and entered the guild. With an awkward smile, I waved my hand and replied to them.

It had been several months since we’d left demon territory. Back in Rakana, we were keeping ourselves busy. It was now autumn, over a year since the stampede, and the dungeons around Rakana had mostly returned to normal.

After stepping down from my position as Demon Lord, I had returned to life as an adventurer. I delved into dungeons with Amyu and the others, sold the materials we gathered, and lived like any other adventurer would. Things had essentially returned to how they had been six months ago. However, the weight on my shoulders felt lighter now.

◆ ◆ ◆

“You sure are popular, Seika,” Yifa said, settling into her seat at the guild tavern we were now regulars at. After we finished selling off our materials, we decided to drop by for a quick bite to eat. It was still a bit early for dinner, but after so much time in the dungeon, we were starving. “People talk to you anywhere you go.”

“I wonder if it’s because we’ve been gone for a while,” Amyu replied, resting her chin on her hands. “Adventurers can’t resist making a scene over people who only show up every once in a while.”

“What am I, a rare animal sighting? Though I guess I did disappear without warning,” I mumbled.

We didn’t tell anyone when we left Rakana for Keltz back in the spring. We planned on returning immediately after completing the request, so we didn’t think it was necessary. Then we ended up meeting Lulum and Nozlow in Keltz, and after some trouble, we traveled all the way to demon territory. While there, I met the rulers of all the demon races and dealt with the volcano, and before I knew it, we had been away from Rakana for several months.

As a result, our acquaintances were surprised to see us when we finally returned. Cyrus, the leader of Rakana, had apparently been quite concerned, since Fiona had asked him to look after us. I felt a little guilty when I found that out.

“Say what you will, but you’re the one who’s settled in here the most,” Amyu said with a weary smile. “Even though you were calling it savage and uncivilized at first.”

“I didn’t say that. At least, not out loud.”

“But you thought it.”

Still, now that she mentions it, maybe I have settled in here.

“I think I get why people always wanna talk to Seika,” Mabel suddenly chimed in. “There’s just something about him that makes you wanna interact with him. It doesn’t have anything to do with him being a rare sighting.”

“Huh? That wasn’t the case back at the academy.”

“I get that too,” Mabel said with a nod. “You’re kinda scary. I was basically an adventurer, so I didn’t mind, but nobles probably found you hard to approach.”

“Scary? Even back then?” My life after attacking the imperial palace aside, I had tried to act like an ordinary noble son back at the academy. I looked to Yifa for support, but she just laughed awkwardly.

“Ah ha ha... Umm, maybe.”

“You agree with her, Yifa?”

“Yeah, kinda.” Yifa nodded. “Not so much when you were talking, but you had a sort of scary atmosphere around you when you were quiet. If we’d first met at the academy, I might’ve had a hard time starting a conversation with you too.”

“Huh? Really?” Amyu asked. “I never felt that way.”

“That’s because you’re an adventurer, not a noble,” said Mabel.

“That’s true. I’ve been dealing with scary people since I was little, so I’m used to it.”

I wasn’t sure how to feel as I listened to their conversation. Maybe I had been on edge without realizing it. I had still been fired up back then, trying to scheme in ways I wasn’t used to, determined to make the most of my time in this world. Perhaps my school life never had a chance of going well from the very beginning.

“But you’ve grown less scary lately,” Mabel said, her expression unchanged. “Maybe that’s why everyone’s trying to talk to you.”

“Yeah, I feel you’ve softened up a little,” Yifa agreed.

“It definitely seems like you’ve been more cheerful,” said Amyu.

“It’s not that I’m more cheerful. If anything, I’d say it’s more like a weight’s been lifted.” I was aware of it myself. After all, the demon-related problems had pretty much been resolved. Both the assassins sent after Amyu, as well as my being the Demon Lord. Regarding the former, given that the band of demons who showed up at the academy had ultimately forced us into a life on the run, it wasn’t something I could afford to take lightly either. As for the latter, it had been the biggest issue weighing on me ever since Lulum had pointed it out.

Whether they were allies or enemies, the demons were constantly causing troublesome situations. But this summer, when I went to demon territory and interacted with their rulers, most of those concerns had been resolved. Those kids were hoping for unity among their races and peace with humanity without relying on the Demon Lord. Although they were still young, the empire’s sabotage had allowed each of them to seize real power. I was confident that in time, the wills of their races would follow suit.

Of course, that didn’t mean demons couldn’t still show up regardless of their races’ will. With both the Hero and Demon Lord present, it was still very possible, but the odds should at least be lower than before. I’d even managed to come to an understanding with those I thought I’d never reconcile with. That made me feel like things would somehow work out. Because of all that, perhaps I had let my guard down a little. Maybe it had even started to show in my face and mannerisms.

I let out a short breath. “Well, maybe I’ve finally started to settle down.” In this world, more so than in Rakana. “We’re gonna be here for a while longer. No point in staying tense all the time.” It wasn’t a crime to live more normally instead of constantly worrying about people deceiving me or stealing from me. I decided it was okay to let my guard down a little.

“You sound like a berserker who’s grown old and finally mellowed out,” Amyu said, her chin still on her hands.

“Did you not have any better comparisons?”

“It’s fitting, though. You’re pretty belligerent.”

“Th-That’s not true. Seika always tries to talk things out first. He only gets like that when it doesn’t work...”

A stiff smile appeared on my face. Yifa’s defense of me wasn’t much of a defense at all. Come to think of it, Lizolera had said something similar back in demon territory, though it wasn’t like I particularly enjoyed fighting or anything.

“Oh, perfect timing. Hey, Lamprogue!” A voice suddenly called my name, and I turned around to see Eik, the wholesale merchant, descending the staircase with his hand raised.

“It’s been a while, Eik. How’s Tio doing?” I asked.

“He’s doing great. Giving my sister a real headache.”

“Tell him Amyu was to play with him again,” Mabel added.

“I never said that!” Amyu protested in return.

Ignoring Amyu and Mabel, Eik rummaged through his shoulder bag. “One of my suppliers gave me a letter addressed to you, Lamprogue.”

“Huh? For me?” Caught off guard, I accepted the white envelope.

In this world, letters were generally delivered by merchants. There was a postal service that traveled between major cities on horseback, but unfortunately, it didn’t extend all the way to Rakana. If you wanted to send a letter to a remote city, it was typical to entrust it to a traveling merchant headed there. It wasn’t my first time receiving a letter in Rakana.

Just as I was trying to remember who the last person I received a letter from was—

“Are you acquainted with any nobles? It’s a pretty fancy envelope, and it was given to me directly by one of the company’s higher-ups. It made me nervous. Anyway, play with Tio again sometime.” After that, Eik went on his way.

I looked down at the envelope in my hand. It used quality paper that I remembered seeing before.

“Is that from Fiona?” Amyu asked in a subdued voice.

“Yeah.” I nodded, pulling out a knife. It felt too late to be a reply to my previous letter, yet too soon to be the next update. Which meant...

“Please, don’t be anything annoying.” I peeled the seal off with the knife. Unfolding the paper inside, my eyes drifted over what was written.

“What does it say, Seika?” Yifa asked nervously.

After looking the paper over once, I folded it back up and stuffed it in my breast pocket. Unsure how to proceed, I began to explain. “Apparently, the imperial court—”

“You must be Amyu.”

A voice echoed through the guild’s tavern. We all looked over at the person who had called out Amyu’s name. A young man dressed in finely tailored clothes was standing there.

“Ugh, already?” Realizing the situation, I couldn’t help but grimace as I muttered to myself.

“Umm, he’s from the imperial capital...” said Airia, the guild employee who had guided the man to us.

“I’ve been sent by His Majesty, Emperor Gilzerius,” the envoy said, his cold eyes fixed on Amyu. “Hero Amyu, you will accompany me to the palace. Take this as a direct command from His Majesty.”

Guess I can’t keep relaxing forever.

◆ ◆ ◆

The emperor was going to summon the Hero to the imperial palace and would soon be sending an envoy. That was more or less what Fiona’s letter had said.

“Was it smart to just go along with this?” Amyu asked hesitantly, seated across from me in the rocking carriage.

We were riding in a carriage prepared by the envoy, traveling along the highway that led to the imperial capital. Aside from the driver, only the four of us were inside the carriage. Though other carriages carrying the envoy and guards were in front of and behind us, none of them were directly monitoring us. It was an invitation, not an arrest—at least, on the surface.

“I kinda expected you to do something about the envoy and then have us run away again.”

“Fiona’s letter said there was no harm in obeying,” I answered casually.

Marquess Greville, the mastermind behind Amyu’s capture a year and a half ago, had lost his position in the aftermath, and as a result, the anti-Hero faction had lost much of its influence. Apparently, the emperor had had a hand in it, so Fiona concluded it was unlikely that his summons was intended to harm Amyu.

“Using force to escape would be reckless.”

And more importantly, even if we did run away, what would we do after? We could continue living as adventurers, but we’d be constantly afraid of pursuers. I would likely be hesitant to even interact with anyone while on the run. If we were going to live that sort of life, it seemed better to stay under Fiona’s protection for the time being.

In addition, while I didn’t know the emperor’s intentions, this would spell the end for our time on the run, regardless of how it turned out. If things went smoothly, we might not have to hide anymore. Of course, that all depended on the empire.

“Still, I wonder why they’re calling Amyu to the palace,” Yifa said timidly. “The emperor’s the one summoning her, right? What could he want?”

“Hmm. Fiona didn’t mention what it was about in her letter, did she?” Amyu asked.

“No,” I replied.

Fiona’s letter was much simpler than last time, likely because she had been in a hurry to beat the envoy. I got the impression she had only written the bare minimum. Although I would’ve appreciated more detail, I understood that the timing had been tight and that wasn’t reasonable. I tried asking the envoy about the emperor’s intentions, but he wouldn’t tell me. Rather, he didn’t seem to have been informed himself.

“I could be way off,” Amyu said, a gloomy look on her face, “but maybe he just wants to meet the Hero? I mean, nobles like unusual stuff, right? The emperor could be the same.”

“Then he might be disappointed,” said Mabel.

“Why’s that?!” Amyu shouted in response.

With a chuckle, I contemplated Yifa’s concern. The most likely reason for someone in power to seek out the Hero was to pit her against the demons. However, at present, the truce with the demons was still holding. Both the rulers of the various races and even the Demon Lord had no intention of starting trouble, so it was highly unlikely that there would be any invasion of the empire in the future. Therefore, there was no need for defense.

Conversely, it was also hard to imagine a situation where the humans would launch an invasion. Demon territory was difficult to crack. The forest terrain made attacking a nightmare, and the demons who lived there were all formidable warriors. Perhaps it would have been conceivable back when the empire was still developing, but now that it had matured, I saw little reason for it to brave such danger just to expand its territory.

Finally, the Hero was difficult to utilize in a war. As Fiona had said before, there were many things an individual simply couldn’t accomplish, no matter how strong they were. Occupying cities, sieging castles, constructing bridges and bases, and something as basic as keeping watch all night placed a heavy burden on a single person. They didn’t have the capacity to take large numbers of prisoners either, so their only option would be massacre.

Despite all my thinking, I couldn’t come up with any reason the emperor would want to meet with Amyu. Maybe she was right, and he really did just want to see the Hero.

“That’s probably wishful thinking...”

Nevertheless, our only option was to face him head-on. Fortunately, we had an ally within the imperial family.

◆ ◆ ◆

We reached the capital in approximately the same number of days it had taken us to reach Rakana. According to city regulations, the carriage we came in could not be taken directly inside. So, just like last time, we had to disembark before the gate and enter on foot. Immediately upon passing through the gate, a welcoming party was there to receive us.

“It’s good to see everyone again.”

Holy Princess Fiona stood by the gate, her light blue hair drawing the attention of the public. The two holy knights we had seen in maid attire at the Lamprogue manor were by her side, with several attendants around them. Perhaps due to the rather imposing atmosphere, a crowd of onlookers had formed at a distance, watching intently. Fiona’s face almost broke into a broad grin for an instant, but she quickly composed herself, instead greeting us with a poised, confident smile as she spoke.

“I’m glad you’re all safe. I appreciate you going through the trouble of coming all the way to the capital. I imagine the trip from Rakana wasn’t an easy one, but know that I am truly grateful to be able to meet with you all once again.” It was a flawless display, just as one would expect from a girl of noble blood. Fiona then turned her gaze toward the envoy who had brought us here. “You have done well in carrying out your duty as imperial envoy. I shall be the one to welcome the Hero and her companions now.”

“With all due respect, Your Highness.” The envoy took a step forward, his expression stern. “I’m afraid you may not.”

“My, and why is that?” Fiona giggled.

“My duty is to escort the Hero to the audience chamber. I could not possibly trouble a member of the imperial family with such a task. Their accommodations have already been made as well.”

“Please, don’t say such unkind things.” Fiona placed a hand to her chest, lowering her eyes sadly as she spoke. “These are my friends. Bound as I am by so many constraints, I have few chances like this to even extend hospitality to those dear to me. Couldn’t you look the other way just this once?”

The envoy’s expression was unchanging in the face of Fiona’s plea. “I sympathize with your situation; however—”

“Or perhaps,” Fiona interrupted the man, “you’ve received certain instructions from someone.”

“Such as?”

“Oh? You would have me lay them bare in public?” Fiona giggled again. Watching as the envoy’s face stiffened, she continued cheerily. “They say rats are quick to flee sinking ships. I suggest you be prudent about which ship you choose to board. Have no fear—if you claim that the princess, accompanied by her holy knights, forced your hand, that should serve as a sufficient excuse. After all, I imagine I’m far from the only obstacle you’ve faced. It won’t be viewed as too egregious a failure.” Seeing the envoy remain silent, Fiona added one more thing. “Treat me favorably and you shall be treated favorably in return. Think it over carefully. Eh heh heh heh heh.”

The envoy maintained his silence a while longer before finally speaking. “I leave them in your hands, Princess Fiona,” he said with a curt bow, his expression emotionless. Turning around, he briskly walked off somewhere, his attendants hurrying after him.

“Seika.”

“Whoa!” Not expecting to hear my name called out right next to me, I backed up hastily. Fiona had walked up beside me without me realizing it, an eager smile on her face.

“We reunited sooner than I expected. I’m overjoyed to be able to see you again.”

I was unsure how to respond to her cheerful, radiant smile. The way we had parted made things a little awkward. Even if it was to save Amyu, I had destroyed the imperial palace and rejected her good-faith attempt at resolving the situation. She had even provided a carriage for our escape despite that, and I’d left her stuck with all the cleanup.

Though she was a politician, someone I should, for all intents and purposes, be wary of, the debt I owed her—or rather, the guilt I felt—made things complicated. We had exchanged one letter since then, but I still wasn’t sure how to face her. It was extremely uncomfortable.

“I, uh...” In my confusion, I ended up giving her my genuine impression. “You really are a politician, huh?”

“My, my. Do you dislike women who concern themselves with governing?” Fiona gave a teasing grin.

“I can’t say I’m great with them,” I responded honestly, a glum look on my face. “I’m no good at deception, so I end up constantly on guard.”

Fiona giggled, wearing a vacant smile for a while. “I suddenly feel like giving up on politics,” she mumbled.

◆ ◆ ◆

The interior of the palace was just as lavish as I expected. Walking down the corridor alongside Fiona, my eyes wandered over our surroundings. The pillars and walls were adorned with luxurious decorations, candlesticks, and other furnishings all of the finest quality. I couldn’t even imagine how much wealth had been spent on it. Amyu and the others, having forgotten their nerves, stared wide-eyed, pointing at ornaments and furniture while whispering excitedly among themselves.

My own impressions weren’t all that different from theirs. It was more grand than any palace I’d seen in demon territory, or castle I’d seen in my past life. When I had attacked a year and a half ago, I had stopped at the underground dungeons Amyu had been held in. I’d seen the rest of the palace through the eyes of rats, but I was still surprised at how magnificent it was. It showed just how powerful the country was.

However, we weren’t here for a leisurely palace tour.

“Isn’t this a little sudden?” I asked Fiona next to me. “We just got here and we’re already seeing the emperor.”

“It’s what His Majesty wanted,” Fiona replied, keeping her eyes straight ahead. Though her tone was calm, her expression was stiff. “This is how it was originally arranged. If I, who am formally taking over the Hero’s reception from His Majesty’s envoy, were to disrupt the initial audience schedule, it would give the other factions an excuse to intervene.”

“Something that minor?”

“Such minor things become extremely important in the realm of politics. It also concerns your personal safety. In fact, just a little while ago, there was a somewhat dangerous situation,” Fiona said, her expression growing faintly more stern. “If we had simply followed his arrangements for the reception, you would likely have been poisoned during tonight’s dinner.”

“Huh?!” Amyu cried in shock behind us.

“As it was His Majesty who summoned you, you would be left untouched until your audience with him,” Fiona continued indifferently. “Yet it would not surprise me if the anti-Hero faction made a move immediately after. They even won over that envoy. It’s possible they might send assassins after you next. You’ll need to be vigilant, particularly when moving outside.”

“What’s going on?” I asked after a brief silence. “You said in your letter that it was fine for us to return to the capital.” That was the entire reason we had made the trip. If that no longer held true, we would have to consider leaving immediately.

“Yes. Rest assured,” Fiona said with a knowing smile. “I can handle such trifling schemes, as you just witnessed. Neither eliminating threats beforehand nor defending against them once they’re launched poses any difficulty to me. I have dealt with people attempting to kill me in exactly this manner before. Furthermore, the anti-Hero faction faces other opposition as well. In their weakened state, it won’t be easy for them to avoid other factions interfering. You might have been able to live in peace without doing anything at all, surprisingly enough.”

It seemed like what she’d said in her letter hadn’t been a lie. It didn’t sound like there was any need to worry.

“As such, there truly is no need to fear for your safety while in the capital. So long as you don’t make an enemy of His Majesty, that is.” Fiona’s final words almost sounded like a joke, but I wasn’t in a laughing mood.

I decided to voice my concern immediately. “For all that, you don’t seem very relaxed. You haven’t been able to figure out why the emperor would summon Amyu, have you?”

Fiona’s eyes opened slightly, and she turned to face me.

“Like you said, I doubt we have to worry about assassins. But the emperor’s the more important part.” If the emperor wanted to get rid of the Hero, we’d be making an enemy of the entire country, not just a faction of nobles.

Should the plan be to call her to the capital, then mobilize the renowned and unmatched imperial guard to capture her, we’d be stuck. Certainly, the imperial guard didn’t pose any threat to me, but we would be put in a much worse situation. While I had assumed that Fiona, with her future sight, had encouraged us to return because she had at least partially grasped the emperor’s intentions, that didn’t seem to be the case.

“Correct. My ability isn’t all-powerful.” Facing ahead once more, Fiona nodded, her voice faltering slightly. “However, considering the country’s situation both foreign and domestically, along with the state of the assembly, I cannot imagine His Majesty has any intention of eliminating the Hero. Given the timing with the anti-Hero faction being weakened, the more natural assumption is that the empire wishes to officially recognize the Hero.”

I didn’t understand the complex power dynamics swirling around the imperial court and the assembly, but judging by what she was saying, the current situation at least didn’t seem unfavorable to Amyu. If true, it made sense why the emperor would personally summon the Hero to force both the assembly and nobility to acknowledge Amyu. The timing also fit if we assumed he had been waiting for the anti-Hero faction to be weakened so there would be little chance for opposition.

There was a high likelihood the upcoming audience would improve our situation—but it wasn’t guaranteed. That still worried me.

“Hey, I’m not really following, but...does this all depend on me?” Amyu, walking behind us, suddenly spoke in a tense voice. Fiona and I turned to look at her as she continued, her expression still hardened. “It’d be really bad if I screwed up and made him mad, right? I don’t really know proper noble etiquette, though. Am I gonna be okay? Maybe I should’ve dressed better...” Amyu said, looking down at her clothes nervously.

“You’ll be fine,” Fiona said with a reassuring smile. “There’s no need for citizens to be so formal before His Majesty. The emperor is not like the nobility. Simply showing proper respect is more than sufficient. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“Really? I’m still kinda worried. None of the noble kids at the academy liked me.”

“Isn’t that because you were so unfriendly at the start?” I asked.

“I don’t wanna hear that from someone who screwed up his own academy debut in a different way.” Amyu glared at me, then turned back to Fiona. “What’s the emperor like? Does he get angry easily? Does he dislike adventurers?”

Fiona appeared to be at a loss for a moment, then responded with a smile. “That’s a good question. At the very least, I’ve never seen him raise his voice. Nor do I believe he holds any prejudices or discriminatory attitudes toward specific groups.” Fiona’s voice trailed off for a moment before she hesitantly continued. “To be completely honest, I’m not sure what he’s like.”

“Isn’t the emperor your dad?” Amyu looked confused. “You don’t know what kind of person he is?”

“He may be my father, but we lived separately for a long time. I have no memories of him doing anything people would consider parental.”

“Oh... Sorry for asking.”

“That said—” Amyu wore an awkward expression, but Fiona spoke with a serious look on her face as though completely unbothered. “Even if that had not been the case, I don’t believe I ever could have understood His Majesty.”

◆ ◆ ◆

The audience chamber was even more luxurious than the hallway. It was a vast room with a high ceiling, a vibrant red carpet laid out across the floor, and sunlight streaming through expensive glass decorated with lustrous fabric. The throne was especially lavish, adorned with gold that showcased the wealth that had been poured into it. The emperor himself, however, was a rather unremarkable man.

“This guy’s the emperor?” I couldn’t help but mumble to myself with a frown.

The emperor of the Urdwight Empire, Gilzerius Urd Alegreif. The air about him was quite unlike what I had imagined. He was utterly ordinary. Brown hair, an average build, a face that was neither particularly ugly nor handsome. Nothing about him made an impression.

Still, he was the emperor, and his hair and beard were neatly groomed, yet it didn’t aid him in seeming dignified or refined. He was the plain sort of man one might pass in a crowd, then forget the very next moment. He possessed none of the presence expected of an extraordinary leader or ruler. The emperor appeared to be an ordinary middle-aged man. Having braced myself for this meeting, I felt a little let down.

“Umm.” Amyu took a step forward, standing before the emperor. “I’m Amyu. I’ve come with my companions.” I glanced over at her face. Her expression was certainly stiff with nervousness, but her bright green eyes were locked firmly on the emperor. She would be fine.

I then stole a glance at the other two just to be safe. Mabel seemed the same as always, but she wasn’t the type to show her emotions on her face, so it was hard to tell how she truly felt. Yifa, on the other hand, looked hopeless. If she were asked a question in that state, I doubted she would be able to answer. But, at the end of the day, Amyu was the star of the show here. It was unlikely to matter.

We were only here because the emperor’s invitation had been addressed to the Hero’s party. It wasn’t clear to me what his aim was. The Hero aside, I couldn’t see what purpose there was in meeting her companions, who were essentially outsiders. That said, it was extremely convenient for me. If anything happened, I could immediately intervene.

“Hmm.” A faint smile appeared on the emperor’s lips. “No need to humble yourself so,” he said calmly, as though he was speaking to a friend’s child. “It’s often misunderstood, but the emperor is not a ruler like the nobility. He is, above all, a citizen just like yourself—simply the one standing at the forefront.”

“Just like us?”

“Do you know how this country was founded?”

Amyu nodded timidly in response to the emperor’s question. “It was founded by an ordinary citizen who ascended.”

“Precisely. That citizen and their allies banded together against the demon threat, won independence from the rulers of the time, and founded their own nation. That nation was the Urdwight Empire. Of course, it started as a kingdom, not an empire.” Like a teacher giving a lesson, the emperor continued. “Most of the nobles who now govern the land are descendants of the rulers of kingdoms and territories once annexed by the empire—kings, tribal chiefs, or even bandit leaders. The self-righteousness they display is due in no small part to that lineage.”

“Really?”

“But the emperor and his family are different. We began as nothing more than ordinary citizens. Since we have a history of overthrowing the ancestors of the nobles, there is some justification for ruling over them. However, there is no such justification for us to extend that rule to the people. After all, we rose from among them and merely became those who stand at the forefront.” The emperor let out a small chuckle.

“When the emperor two generations before me was in power, that awareness was still strong among the citizens. People would come all the way to the imperial palace to make their appeals. Some of them even shouted—at the emperor! I was still very young at the time, but I remember well how the shouts echoed outside the audience chamber, and the weary look on my grandfather’s face. It made me feel that being emperor must be an arduous duty indeed.”

At some point, our nervousness had completely dissipated. Even Yifa had stopped shaking and was listening intently to the emperor’s story.

“So there’s no need to humble yourself. In fact, I should probably be the nervous one. After all, I have the Hero of legend standing before me.” The emperor’s smile drew a listless sigh out of Amyu. “I’m sure you must be quite skilled with magic and the sword.”

“Not really. There are a lot of people stronger than me out there.”

“Hmm. Well, I can’t possibly fathom the world of the strong. The imperial family and nobility are said to be blessed with magic power, but the truth of the matter is that those who can handle it well are few and far between. I doubt I could stand up to even the weakest of monsters,” the emperor said, his calm smile still on his face. “I’m fortunate to be living in a time of peace, with little threat presented by the demons. Having said that, as the Hero, I must wonder if you find yourself with more strength than you know what to do with.”

“Your Majesty,” I interjected. I got the feeling things were headed in an unfavorable direction. “Forgive my impertinence, but may I first ask what judgment awaits Amyu, and by extension, us?”

Yifa and Mabel looked at me in shock. They probably hadn’t expected me to broach the subject deliberately.

A year and a half ago, Amyu had escaped from confinement in the imperial palace. The charge of her killing a demon envoy had been fabricated, but she had nonetheless broken free from the dungeon. It wasn’t something the empire could simply sweep under the rug.

Of course, we had no reason to bring it up ourselves. It was better for us if they let it slide, so it would’ve been smart to remain silent until the emperor said something about it. I had brought it up despite that because I was getting an increasingly bad feeling. The emperor had avoided mentioning every important topic I had expected him to discuss. Speaking from my experiences in my past life, it typically ended poorly when rulers behaved in such a manner.

“Judgment?” Tilting his head slightly, the emperor repeated my words back at me. “Oh, you mean that. It was an unfortunate situation for you all as well,” the emperor said as though he had only just remembered. “Fear not, we’re well aware there was no demon envoy. Amyu’s crime was nothing more than a pretense to restrain her. Hans—excuse me, Marquess Greville viewed the Hero’s strength as a threat, and acted rashly in the interests of the country. I’m deeply sorry.”

I silently listened to the emperor’s apology.

“As a result, you all had to endure unnecessary hardship. Life away from the academy must have been difficult. The three of you were originally Amyu’s schoolmates, weren’t you? On behalf of the empire, I thank you for supporting humanity’s savior, the Hero. In truth, I had planned on having her released after the assembly met the next day. I could have used my authority to set her free that very day, but it was already night, and I wanted Hans to take responsibility before the assembly. That was why I asked you to endure for one night. I never expected things to turn out the way they did.” The emperor let out a short sigh and gave Amyu a look of concern. “Were you all right?”

“Yes,” Amyu answered with a firm nod. “All the shaking warped the bars, which let me escape. There were a lot of people collapsed outside, and the gate was gone, so I figured there was some kind of emergency and immediately ran.”

We planned out how Amyu would respond to questions about her escape beforehand, as the subject was all but guaranteed to come up. We also made sure there were no contradictions with Fiona’s cover story.

“I’m glad you were unharmed.” The emperor smiled. The circumstances of her escape should have been vital information, yet he seemed utterly unconcerned. “There is something I would like to ask—did you happen to see the perpetrator behind the attack?”

“No...”

“I see. The attack on the palace is said to have been carried out by a powerful demon, but we have no idea what it truly was. While none of the soldiers who fought it were killed, for some reason, they all lost their memories of the encounter. The most we have is testimony from someone who glimpsed the figure from afar, saying it was of a small build. I had hoped you might have seen it yourself. That’s too bad.”

Contrary to his words, there wasn’t any hint of disappointment in the emperor’s voice. It was fortunate that he hadn’t discovered my identity, but my bad feeling was only growing.

“Though we live in a time of peace, the world is not without conflict,” the emperor said with a sigh. “The very fact that the empire still maintains hundreds of thousands of troops shows that violence is indispensable to a nation. Violence protects the peace.” The emperor continued as if engaging in casual conversation. “On that note, Amyu, as the one who stands at the forefront of the people, I would like to make a request of you.”

“Huh? Me?” Amyu blinked in confusion.

I immediately realized that this was the real purpose for our audience, and why the emperor had summoned Amyu.

“I would like you to quell the revolt that has occurred in the west.” The emperor’s tone made it sound as though he were asking something as simple as running an errand to the neighbor’s house. I couldn’t help but grit my teeth. “Using your power as the Hero.”

It seemed we were getting dragged into something more troublesome than expected.

◆ ◆ ◆

“Revolt?” Amyu asked in confusion.

“An issue that has plagued countries in all ages,” the emperor said, disappointment in his voice. “The empire is no exception. There have been countless revolts since its founding. One might say it’s to be expected in a nation that has absorbed so many others. However, it’s been quite some time since the empire last annexed another country, and the past century or so has been without war. How unfortunate I am that such an issue would arise during my reign.” Despite the weight of the topic, the emperor’s tone made it sound like it was a minor, everyday gripe.

“We’ve been in a remote city to the east, so I’m afraid we haven’t heard of any revolt in the west,” I said with a frown. “Could I trouble you for more information?”

“I’ll have one of my officials explain the details to you later. Forgive me, but for now I must ask that we limit ourselves to only the outline of the matter.” The emperor turned to me, his brown eyes revealing nothing. A faint tension seeped into the air as he began to speak. “The cause was not anything out of the ordinary. In a remote city to the northwest, slaves working the mines and plantations revolted, killed their masters, and seized the town. From there, they marched southward, raiding smaller settlements along the way.”

I held my tongue in thought. Slave revolts weren’t particularly uncommon. I had heard of several smaller ones since reincarnating, and even in my previous world as well. However, I couldn’t think of many instances where they grew so large that the country had to get involved.

“In addition,” the emperor went on, as though adding a trivial note, “in another city further to the south, followers of a new religion known as the Church of Sozo staged a similar uprising. The religion has spread mainly among the poor, and perhaps because they gather together and practice suspicious rites, they have been heavily persecuted in the west. They also seized a town by force, then began marching north, attacking small villages and towns along the way. Then, they joined with the band of slaves and became one group.”

“Huh?”

“They’ve now grown into a mob tens of thousands strong. The military force a provincial city can muster can’t possibly suppress them, and even small fortress cities are being overrun. I’m at my wits’ end.” Contrary to the emperor’s casual tone and mannerisms, what he said was astonishing. I was left speechless.

Religious revolts weren’t anything novel, but not once had I ever heard of one merging with an entirely different group, such as a slave uprising. Was such a thing even feasible?

“I find that difficult to believe. You called them a mob, but if they’re capturing cities, that means they’re capable of some level of military coordination, doesn’t it? Do they have a base of operations? Where are they getting enough food to supply tens of thousands of people? Who is leading them?”

“As I said, you’ll receive the details from our government officials later. They will answer any questions you might have.” Though his tone was calm, he was clearly avoiding the subject.

“Pardon me,” I said, lowering my eyes slightly. “Then I’ll ask only one thing—why rely on Amyu instead of the imperial military?” Still silent, the emperor wore a smile that urged me to continue. “If this revolt is real, then the situation is well beyond the point where the empire should intervene. It calls for the mobilization of the military, not reliance on a single girl. Maybe you have high hopes for the Hero’s strength, but even a Hero at their prime wouldn’t be capable of stopping a mob of tens of thousands.”

“It pains me how true that is,” the emperor said with a wry smile. No part of his behavior suggested that he felt the gravity of the situation. “You are correct. I would mobilize the military immediately, were I able. Unfortunately, the circumstances prevent me from doing so. Due to the past century of peace, generations of emperors have been reducing the military. Officers gaining too much power is an issue, and above all, soldiers are costly. Our expenses have fallen, but as a result, we have little strength to spare.”

I could already guess what direction the conversation was headed.

“When I say ‘spare,’ I mean surplus forces that can be mobilized to deal with unforeseen circumstances. The empire may command several hundred thousand troops, but once you subtract those that must be stationed along the borders and elsewhere, there’s very little left that can be called ‘surplus.’ At most, five thousand could be mobilized immediately. Hardly reassuring against tens of thousands. Of course, that doesn’t mean I intend to withhold the military. We’re requesting that each garrison contribute troops, but the officers will naturally be reluctant. And even once we gather the soldiers, we’ll still need to decide how to organize the units, who should command them, and then obtain approval from the assembly. It all takes time,” the emperor said wearily.

“Even so, I can’t sit idly by and let this revolt unfold. Innocent people are suffering. As emperor, it’s my duty to aid them. That is why I wish to rely on you, Amyu. Will you lend your strength as the Hero to the empire?”

I glanced over at Amyu and saw a worried look on her face. “But, I...”

“I won’t be so unreasonable as to ask you to crush the revolt completely. I’d like you to hold them back until the military can be dispatched. Not on your own, of course—you’ll have your companions. I invited the four of you here because I hoped we could work together to help the empire through this national crisis. I’ve heard talk that you’re quite a capable party of adventurers.” The emperor directed a smile at all of us.

That plan explained why we had all been included.

“Having said that, you’re more than welcome to do it on your own if you’d prefer. If there’s anything you require, you need only ask. We can prepare any goods or personnel you wish for.”

A few extra hands or better equipment would hardly make a difference against an army tens of thousands strong.

“You just want Amyu to buy time for the imperial military to deploy, correct?” I asked, a grim expression on my face.

“I certainly wouldn’t complain if you were to accomplish more,” the emperor replied with a smile that was difficult to describe. “Routing the rebel army would be ideal. They aren’t making any major moves at the moment, but we can’t discount the possibility of an attack on the capital. Truth be told, merely buying time is far from optimal.”

If the capital were to fall, it would mean the collapse of the Urdwight Empire itself. Their numbers alone meant that the possibility had to be feared.

“That said, it’s not a major concern,” the emperor said lightheartedly as we sat in silence. “The capital’s defenses are sturdy, and the rebel army is a long distance from here. It would be difficult for them to cover so much ground.”

Glancing to my side, I saw relief on Yifa’s and Mabel’s faces.

“However, the empire has several other important cities. The city of Tenend in a nearby canyon is in particular danger. If it were by some chance taken, it would be an immeasurable loss for the empire. We must ensure that does not happen. If, by some chance, the bridge to the city were to fall, that would be completely acceptable,” he added in a joking tone. “It’s already so old that repairs are difficult, and we can use public funds to repair it later.”

Amyu let out a sigh in response. Her expression didn’t suggest that she was having trouble following the conversation. If anything, it seemed like she was struggling to decide whether she should accept the emperor’s request to suppress the revolt army or not. Just when I started to grow concerned, the emperor spoke up again.

“When I was a child and saw my grandfather being shouted at by the people, I thought it was simply part of the emperor’s job. But in reality, a nation has countless problems that must be solved. Threats posed by neighboring countries, demons, and monsters, industry, economics, social welfare, factional disputes between nobility, dissatisfaction among the people, the upkeep of aging roads and waterways, and choosing the next emperor... The emperor must make decisions on all of these matters and bear responsibility for them. It was far more difficult than being shouted at by citizens.”

The emperor spoke gently to the anxious Hero. “I’m an amateur when it comes to most of these things. I’ve never done any carpentry, I don’t know how the common man lives, and I’m not well-versed in trade. Should an enemy appear on our doorstep, I cannot fight. I alone can do nothing, yet the emperor must solve all problems. So, what do I do? I rely on others. That which I am unskilled at, I entrust to experts. A powerless individual is supported by the talents of those who are skilled in their field—that is how a country sustains itself.”

The emperor gave Amyu a smile that seemed to almost encourage her to embark on a journey. “Amyu, will you use your expertise to support this nation?”

◆ ◆ ◆

After the audience, we made our way to a detached residence within the imperial palace grounds, meant for important guests to stay in. It turned out to be where Fiona usually lived. The moment the audience ended, we declined the officials’ offer to guide us elsewhere and instead asked her to take us somewhere we could speak in private.

“What’s going on here?” I demanded. I knew she was doing her best, but the situation was dire. There were several things I needed to confirm. “You didn’t mention anything about Amyu being ordered to put down a revolt. We never would’ve come back here if I’d known this was going to happen.”

“I didn’t foresee it either.” Fiona, wearing a grim expression, raised a hand to her lips as she spoke. “I, of course, knew about the revolt and that the military had been slow to react, but I certainly didn’t anticipate that he planned to send Amyu.” Fiona pondered for a moment. “How did you respond?”

Yifa and Mabel looked at each other, then answered.

“Seika said something complicated to dodge the issue,” said Mabel.

“Umm... He told His Majesty that due to the gravity of the matter, we’d like to request some time to deliberate,” Yifa followed up.

“Very good. If that was enough for His Majesty to let you leave without trouble, then we’re quite fortunate.” A hint of relief appeared on Fiona’s face, and she fell back into thought.

“This is our first time hearing about the revolt. What the emperor said was a little hard to believe. Is it true that slaves and religious believers are working together?”

“Yes.” Fiona nodded. “News first reached the capital about half a month ago. Both of the initial revolts occurred around the same time. Since joining forces, their numbers seem to be around twenty or thirty thousand, though they’re split into several groups. I’m told they’re supplying themselves by occupying cities and plundering food.”

“I see.” It was unlucky that two major revolts had occurred together, both for the empire and for us. Perhaps the reason I had never heard of any similar cases was simply that such an unfortunate coincidence rarely occurred. “I heard they captured a fortress city. How did that happen? If the gates were shut, they should’ve been helpless. Do they actually have a chain of command capable of acquiring and operating siege weapons?”

“It’s difficult to say at this point in time.” Fiona slightly averted her eyes as she answered. “No specific leader has been identified, but it does seem likely that some form of command structure exists. It’s difficult to imagine that they managed to steal siege weaponry, so I suspect they used another method, such as collaborators opening the gate from the inside.”

“That makes sense.” It seemed plausible. For a group of slaves and commoners, it was a much simpler method. As I spoke with Fiona, I began to grasp the situation little by little. It might not have been as strange an uprising as I had initially thought. However, that did little to improve our situation. I let out a deep sigh.

“If only we could’ve stayed hidden from the imperial court for another six months or so. The revolt would surely have been dealt with by then. It was only a matter of time, but I still didn’t expect them to find us so quickly.”

“I do believe that’s your own fault,” Fiona said.

“Huh?” I looked at Fiona in surprise.

“You all used your real names while adventuring in Rakana,” Fiona replied, fixing a sharp, lingering gaze on me.

“Oh.”

“Even uneducated criminals and runaway slaves come up with the idea to use fake names.”

“I... I guess I was careless.” Spitting out an excuse, I inadvertently looked away from Fiona. It hadn’t even occurred to me. I had assumed we’d be fine even if they found out we were in Rakana, so I hadn’t paid it any mind.

“I panicked when the information came through one of my affiliated trading companies,” Fiona said with a hint of resentment in her voice. “People frequently come and go in Rakana, and word spreads if you stand out. We circulated tales of another adventurer named Amyu in other cities as a precaution, but the stampede proved to be too much. While your names didn’t spread all the way to the capital, His Majesty no doubt learned of your exploits through his own information network.”

“Ugh...”

“I suppose some of the blame lies with me for not explicitly telling you to take on fake identities. I also failed to foresee the stampede in time.”

“S-Sorry...” I apologized, relieved that she didn’t seem to blame me too much.

“By the way, did you happen to leave Rakana at any point?”

“Uhh...”

“You cannot be serious.”

“We took some adventuring work in Keltz at one point...”

“Excuse me?!”

“I-It was just for a month...”

“Anything else?”

“W-Well...” I couldn’t look her in the eyes as I lied. “No. We didn’t go anywhere else.”

Fiona let out a weighty sigh. “You lot are far too lax. I would tell you to be mindful of the fact that you’re fugitives, but I suppose it’s too late for that.”

“Sorry.” Though I apologized, I was relieved deep down. It seemed that they at least hadn’t found out that we went to demon territory. I wouldn’t have been surprised if it had been exposed by her future sight, but perhaps that meant she wouldn’t uncover our deeds at any point in the future. Or it could just be that it was coming later. That was a frightening thought. I shook my head and recomposed myself. We had more important matters to tend to.

With a short cough, I began speaking once again. “G-Getting back on topic, why would the emperor order Amyu to deal with the revolt? I understand that mobilizing the imperial military isn’t easily done, but surely he could hire mercenaries or something. Does he think the Hero is strong enough to take on large armies by herself?”

“I don’t know,” Fiona said, casting her eyes at the ground with a sullen expression. “I don’t believe His Majesty would make such a mistake, so he must be planning something, but I can’t fathom what that might be.”

“Even with your future sight?”

“Yes.” Fiona gave a slight but firm nod. “I suspect His Majesty is employing precautions against my future sight.”

“Precautions?” I asked with a frown. “Is that even possible?”

“My ability is not all-powerful. Unless I personally learn of something in the days to come, I can’t foresee it. Information obtained secondhand, rather than through my own experiences, is also difficult to grasp in detail. There are other weaknesses as well, and it seems His Majesty has combined countermeasures in such a way as to prevent the exposure of his schemes.”

“That’s a little hard to believe. How do you know that?”

“Because I have very rarely ever seen any visions concerning him. To an unnatural degree. This incident is no exception,” Fiona said, pursing her lips.

Fiona likely hadn’t even been able to foresee the conversation we were having. I didn’t know what means were being used to stop her, but as had just been demonstrated with me being able to enter demon territory unbeknownst to her, her future sight didn’t grant omniscience. It wouldn’t be odd for some sort of countermeasure to exist. If nothing else, it was clear the emperor wasn’t somebody for whom we could count on her future sight.

“His Majesty seemed like a kind person,” Yifa said hesitantly. “Is he not who he appears to be?”

Fiona laughed feebly. “I don’t believe anybody truly understands what kind of person His Majesty is,” she said as though trying to convince herself. “He ascended to the throne at a young age following the death of the previous emperor. The former emperor had originally designated an adopted heir, but that heir also died suddenly, and the throne passed to His Majesty. He took the throne without any backing, yet avoided becoming anyone’s puppet. He’s reigned for over twenty years without succumbing to the burdens of the crown or an assassin’s blade.”

“Is that impressive?” Mabel asked, tilting her head as though she didn’t get it.

“Yes,” Fiona replied with a bitter smile. “Being emperor is unforgiving. If you look through history, there are countless cases of emperors falling ill from the stress of the crown or being assassinated after conflicts with nobles or the assembly. To take the throne in his twenties and continue until now without any major failures is extraordinary, as far as I’m concerned.”

“Hmm...”

“In addition, I’m told he’s never had anyone who could be called a confidant by his side. He’s maintained that distant attitude ever since he became emperor.”

Rulers were still human. They showed weakness, needed advice, and desired capable subordinates—usually, at least. If he had truly governed a great empire on his own, without anyone he could trust or anyone behind him pulling the strings, then it was certainly hard to call him ordinary.

“In addition, he keeps his distance from his family as well. He treats everyone the same way, myself and the three princes included.”

“The empress passed away eighteen years ago, right?”

“Yes,” Fiona answered my question with a nod. “Since then, he hasn’t remarried, nor have I ever heard of him having any mistresses, aside from my mother. If there were ever someone who could truly understand him, perhaps it was the empress or my mother. But there’s no way to know for sure now.”

The emperor hadn’t felt like a ruler when I had first seen him. He had seemed completely plain. But thinking about it, no ordinary person could rule such a large empire for over two decades. The ordinary impression he gave was itself abnormal.

I let out another long sigh. I guess he’s even more trouble than I thought he’d be. Getting involved with politicians is such a pain.

“Well, the question now is, how do we respond to his request?” I said, pulling myself together.

“It’s fine if you decline. In fact, I think you should,” Fiona immediately replied.

“Is it fine?” I asked, taken aback.

“Yes. If he hadn’t intended to allow you to refuse, he would have made Amyu agree on the spot. To begin with, a citizen has no obligation to obey a request from the emperor that hasn’t passed through the assembly.”

“Is that how it works?” I was relieved to hear that. Could it be that the emperor never truly intended for Amyu to resolve the rebellion?

“This request strikes me as unusual as well,” Fiona continued, her expression serious. “While it’s true that the empire is struggling with this revolt, it isn’t a burden a citizen uninvolved with the government should bear, Hero or not. We should formally decline His Majesty’s request tomorrow. I’ll make arrangements going forward to—”

“Hold on.” The one to cut Fiona off was Amyu, who had been silent this entire time. “I don’t mind going,” she said as everyone’s attention was on her.

“Huh?”

“They need my strength, right? If there are people in trouble, I don’t mind going to help them.”

“Do you realize what you’re saying?” Dumbfounded, I couldn’t stop myself from blurting out. “It’s an army of tens of thousands. There isn’t anything you can do.”

“They’re targeting a city, aren’t they?” Amyu retorted. “We can’t go out in the plains and beat the entire army, but if we hole up in the city, we can defend it, like we did in Rakana. If my power can be of even a little help...”

“No, no, no. What’s—”

What’s gotten into you? I was about to ask, before I realized. Nothing had gotten into her. Back during the stampede in Rakana, and when Lulum was about to be captured, she had always tried to stand with those in need and face overwhelming enemies. It was as though the Hero’s blood compelled her to do so.

It made me want to bury my head in my hands. We’d managed to get by even when taking risks up until now, but this time was going to be different.

“Umm, Amyu,” Fiona said, clearly perplexed. “You need not worry. I have my own reservations about this revolt, and I’ve been moving my holy knights behind the scenes. I’m certain it will be resolved soon.”

“But the city that’s about to be attacked must need help right now, doesn’t it? And those tens of thousands of rebels are split into several groups at the moment. If it’s just one of those groups we’re up against, then I’m sure I can be of some help,” Amyu protested.

“Enough already. This is beyond reckless. It’s just stupid,” I said.

“What’s stupid?! I helped in Rakana, didn’t I?!”

She had helped. That was a fact. Her efforts had contributed significantly to the city’s ability to hold the line. If she were to go to the city that was about to be attacked, she would no doubt contribute even more. But that wasn’t the problem.

“Someone might die.”

“You’re saying that now? Adventurers face danger all the time.”

“No, I’m saying the people we fight might die.” I looked Amyu directly in the eyes. “Have you ever killed someone before?”

“No. But taking down bad people...”

“Isn’t a big deal? That’s right. It’s nothing special. Turning a lowlife into a corpse won’t change anything about who you are.” Nothing about me had changed when I’d first cursed someone to death. But it made me realize something—killing a person was no big deal. “Still, there are some things you’re better off not knowing. If you can live your life still mistakenly believing that even bad people’s lives are precious, then you should.”

“What are you talking about? Are you mocking me?” Amyu glared at me sharply.

“On top of that, once you involve yourself in politics, it never ends. Word will spread among the powerful that the Hero wielded her strength for the emperor, and others will set their sights on you as well. Even if you don’t want anything to do with it, you’ll risk getting involved in their power struggles. Is that what you want?”

“No, it’s not.”

“Then—”

“It’s not, but...” Amyu raised her head and spoke firmly. “But that doesn’t matter to the people in need. I don’t want to kill people, and I wanted to stay out of politics too, but not at the cost of abandoning people who need help.” Her stubbornness left me stumped.

Was her sense of justice truly that strong? Given her personality, I could understand her speaking up if it were a city she had lived in, but I didn’t think she was so blind to reality that she would take on an army for the sake of complete strangers.

“I’m opposed. We shouldn’t go,” I said flatly, suppressing my frustration.

“Then you don’t have to come.”

“No, I’m saying you shouldn’t go either.”

“Why not?!” Amyu demanded forcefully, leaning forward. “I’m the one the emperor asked. Me, the Hero. It’s none of your business.”

She was correct. If she was prepared to have to kill people or get dragged into political strife, then nobody had any right to stop her. Least of all me, given I had tried to use her for her strength as Hero. It wasn’t my place to arrogantly give her commands. And yet...

“Because I’m worried about you.” Spend a few years with someone, and you were bound to start caring for them. No, looking back, it probably started even earlier.

Amyu’s green eyes went wide with surprise, and a flustered look appeared on her face. Finally, she looked away and mumbled. “Still... That doesn’t matter to the people in need either.”

A heavy silence overtook us. I continued thinking as nobody made a sound. Eventually, I made up my mind and sighed.

“All right. I’ll do it.”

“Huh?”

“I’ll do it,” I said again for emphasis. “I just need to stall until the imperial military arrives. That’s easy.”

“What are you saying?” Amyu’s tone was sharp. “You want me to just sit back and watch so you can do all the uncomfortable stuff yourself? Why should I let you baby me? I’m sure you’ve probably killed someone before, but does that mean there’s no difference between killing ten people and a hundred? There is, right? I’m the one who was asked to do this, so I’m gonna suffer just as much as you.”

“I won’t kill anyone.”

“Huh?” Amyu looked at me blankly.

“I won’t kill anyone in the city or the rebel army. I’ll protect the city and buy time without any deaths. How about that?”

“What do you mean?”

“The rebels can be sold as slaves if captured alive, which lets the empire recoup some of the losses it’s suffered, and the money can also be put toward helping rebuild the city. Can you do better than that?”

“No...”

“Then will you let me handle it?”

“B-But... I’m the one who was asked to do this...” Amyu said, still reluctant.

“The emperor said you could bring your companions. We were invited here as well. What’s wrong with relying on your friends if it makes things go smoother?”

Amyu went silent for a moment. “Fine.”

I exhaled, relieved. I was glad she finally listened.

“But if there’s anything I can do to help, I’m gonna do it,” Amyu said, pouting.

“That’s fine.” There was no need to worry about that happening. At the very least, there would never be a situation where I would have to drag her onto the battlefield.

Seemingly satisfied with the outcome, Amyu had grown meek, as though a restless spirit had been lifted from her. But a moment later, an embarrassed look appeared on her face.

“I feel like you ended up saving me again.”

“I don’t mind.”

“Y’know,” Amyu said with a bashful smile, “it’s the first time you’ve ever said you’re worried about me.”

“What kind of heartless person wouldn’t worry about their friends?”

“Yeah, but you put it into words. From your point of view, maybe everyone around you always seems so unreliable, you can’t just stand by and watch.”

Now that she mentioned it, perhaps I had avoided saying it out loud. Part of it was that I wanted to avoid sounding patronizing, but deep down, maybe there was a part of me that thought that in order to live cunningly, I shouldn’t concern myself with others. Cutting that line of thought short, I turned to Fiona.

“Sorry. Could I ask you to handle the aftermath again?”

“I don’t recommend this,” Fiona said, her expression stern. “If you accept the emperor’s request, word will spread, no matter the outcome. As you fear, you may get dragged into political conflict. Furthermore, there are several strange aspects to this revolt. It isn’t something you should involve yourself in for no reason.”

“You’re right, but don’t phrase it that way. We’re doing this to help people. As for word spreading, could you try to cover it up so people don’t attempt to use the Hero for their own gain?”

“There are some things beyond even my capabilities.”

“Please, Fiona. You’re the only one we can count on when it comes to politics. I understand I’m not being reasonable, but we really need your help once again.”

“L-Last time wasn’t easy, you know? But... Well...” Fiona visibly wavered. I thought she might just give up, but perhaps she was unexpectedly susceptible to pressure. Finally, she let out a deep sigh. “Very well. But don’t expect too much.”

“I appreciate it,” I said with a smile. I was confident she would manage.

Fiona looked directly at me, her expression a mixture of frustration and exasperation. “Goodness, you’re always like this.”

“Always like what?”

“Just talking to myself,” Fiona said, turning the other way with a huff.

“Thank you, Fiona,” I said hesitantly.

Fiona turned to Amyu with a strained smile. “There won’t be a next time,” she declared.

“R-Right.” Amyu shrank back.

We were asking for a lot, so it was only natural that Fiona would be upset. At any rate, our course of action had been decided.

“What about you two?” I asked, turning to face Yifa and Mabel. “It doesn’t seem like it’s going to be a very fun trip. You can stay in the capital if you want.”

“I-I’ll go!”

“I’ll go too.”

They both replied immediately. I expected as much.

“Just to be safe, I’m going to send one of my holy knights with you,” Fiona said, looking around at us in contemplation. “There will likely be times when Seika has his hands full.”

“Huh? We’ll be fine. We’ve been adventuring in Rakana. We can protect ourselves.” Amyu tried to decline.

“Amyu, you might be targeted,” Fiona said softly.

“Ah...”

“I don’t imagine you’re used to facing assassins. I suspect you’ll be safe once you leave the capital, but it’s better to be safe than sorry. One mistake and the people around you could be harmed.”

“Th-That’s true... It’d be bad if Yifa or Mabel were attacked by mistake,” Amyu admitted dejectedly.

“However, the only one currently available has a rather difficult personality,” Fiona said, wearing a slightly worried expression. “No, it should be all right as long as I give him a stern warning. The holy knights all have their peculiarities, so nothing would ever get done if we got hung up on the details.”

“Uh... Are you sure?” That didn’t sound like the righteous band of champions the bards sang about. Suddenly, something occurred to me. “It’s not my brother, is it?”

Fiona blinked, then shook her head with a smile. “No, Gly is currently off on a mission. And he’s one of the few normal humans among my holy knights.”

“H-Him? Normal? What’s going on with your holy knights?” I was dumbfounded. Just what sort of group had she gathered?

“Hmm... So it’s not him,” Amyu mumbled.

“Did you want to see Gly?” Fiona asked, looking between me and Amyu.

“N-No way!” Amyu shouted.

“I’d rather not either.”

“I see.” Fiona gave a helpless smile. “Well, I’m certain you’ll have an opportunity to reunite in the future.”

“Did he say anything about me after last time?” I asked.

Fiona shook her head once again. “No, not a word. He didn’t ask me about you either. He seems to be deliberately avoiding the subject.”

“All right.” When we last met in the dungeon Amyu had been locked up in, I had aimed a spell at him. He was probably the one who didn’t want to meet with me. I wasn’t particularly hoping to mend our relationship—it had been bad from the start. I wouldn’t be bothered if we never met again. That said, he seemed to have encouraged Amyu alongside Fiona. I couldn’t help but regret how I’d acted just a little.

“Gly aside,” I said, collecting my thoughts. “I’m a little curious how my family and the academy are doing. How is my absence being treated?”

“It’s been arranged that you’re on a leave of absence from the academy. Your enrollment remains, so you could return if you wish.”

“Hear that?” I looked at the other three, but they all shook their heads.

I wasn’t surprised. It had been a year and a half, and they were all making a living as adventurers now. I didn’t have any desire to return either.

“Then I’ll see to it that your withdrawal is processed at an appropriate time. Count Lamprogue was informed that you were going on a journey to broaden your horizons. It was quite sudden, so I’m sure he’s worried about you. You might consider writing him a letter once things settle down.”

“You’re right.” Since I wasn’t the family’s heir, I was going to have to support myself regardless of whether I dropped out or not. My sudden departure on a journey must have come as a surprise, but in truth, it only meant I set out on my own a little earlier than expected. He probably wasn’t all that worried about me. That said, I could at least send him a letter.

“Did you tell that to my family too?” Amyu asked.

“Yes. All your families have been given the same explanation,” Fiona replied.

“Hmm. Then I guess I should write to my mom and dad too. We’re not on the run anymore. Obviously, I can’t tell them about being the Hero, but mentioning Rakana and stuff should be fine.”

“If Seika’s writing a letter, I should probably send one to my dad too,” said Yifa.

“What should I do?” Mabel asked.

“Why not write a letter as well?” Fiona suggested. “It may have only been for a short while, but your adopted family still took care of you.”

“Sure.”

As I absentmindedly watched them discuss family matters, I was glad that we had been able to return to the empire. There were many things, including past connections, that we had been forced to give up during our time on the run. If we could just handle the rebels rampaging to the west and make it through the emperor’s schemes, we’d have nothing left to worry about.

◆ ◆ ◆

“I think you should back out.”

That night, just as I was about to lie down in bed in the room assigned to me, Yuki suddenly spoke up.

Pausing, I sat down on the bed. “It’s not like I’m enthusiastic about it either, but what choice do we have?”

“You do have a choice,” Yuki said sternly after jumping off my head and sitting on a desk. “Can’t you just stop that Hero girl by force?”

“It’d be one thing if she were one of my disciples, but I don’t have that authority over her. Forcing her to stop doesn’t make sense.”

“I still think you should,” Yuki declared, scowling at me. “You’re afraid of your relationship with her getting worse, so you picked the easy route, Master Seika.”

I was momentarily lost for words. She wasn’t wrong, but Yuki had never been so harsh with me before.

“Even in your previous life, though you might have treated your friends a little offhandedly, there was always a certain gentleness in it. I used to think that was admirable, but now it’s become a bad habit. I regret not admonishing you more in the beginning.”

“You’re that serious about this?” I asked in astonishment, taken aback by her unrelenting words. “What’s got you so upset?”

“What happened today doesn’t sit right with me.”

“I can’t argue with that.” The emperor was unreadable, and the revolt had several unusual factors, but those weren’t major issues. “Still, we’ll manage. The revolt can be settled using force, and I think brushing the emperor off would be more dangerous than just going along with his request. Fiona should be able to help us maintain some distance from politics. It’s not necessarily a bad decision.”

“That isn’t what I mean,” Yuki said flatly. “I’m saying the Hero girl doesn’t sit right with me.”

“What’s wrong with Amyu?”

“You didn’t think she was acting strangely today?”

“Well...” Now that she mentioned it, Amyu certainly had been behaving oddly. She had always liked fighting and held a deep loyalty toward her friends, but I’d never gotten the impression that she had such a strong sense of justice that she would sacrifice herself for complete strangers.

“She started acting differently after speaking with this country’s emperor,” said Yuki.

“I guess that’s one way to look at it...”

“I’m afraid. That emperor possesses something unfathomable. It’s not sorcery or raw strength. I’m worried that if you get involved with him...” Unease crept into Yuki’s voice. “You’re going to meet the same end you did in our last world.”

◆ ◆ ◆

Regardless of the concerns, it was too late to change our course. The next day, we had another audience with the emperor and accepted his request.

“Thank you. As the one who stands at the forefront of the people, I pray for your safety,” the emperor replied with a smile.

Act 2

Despite accepting the emperor’s request, it would be another three days before we departed, as we had to arrange carriages, food, and other supplies. The preparations proceeded smoothly, and it was now one day before we were scheduled to leave. Somehow, we found ourselves at a party.

I looked around at the vast room inside the imperial palace. People dressed in luxurious clothing filled the equally luxurious hall. As I had already suspected from its exterior, the imperial palace was not a castle designed to repel enemies.

“You don’t have to be so on edge. I won’t let anyone approach you all,” Fiona said next to me, taking a sip from the glass in her hand. “People trying to draw you into their own camp are troublesome enough, but it’s just as bad if others mistakenly believe you’ve already sided with another faction. That’s why I’d like you to stay with me for today.”

“People like us are bound to get looked down on at an upper-class party like this, so I appreciate that, but...” I looked up at the figure standing next to Fiona. “Is that your way of warding people off?”

The figure was an ogre. He was far larger than any human, and unusually for his race, his skin was an ashen gray. His poise gave him the air of a warrior. Even under my gaze, the ogre remained silent and still, his eyes fixed straight ahead.

“This is Vromd, one of my holy knights,” Fiona said with a smile. “Though he rarely speaks, he makes his surroundings fall silent simply by standing there, so he’s always of great assistance.”

Presumably because it was a party, the ogre named Vromd was dressed formally and wasn’t carrying any weapons on his person. Yet his lack of arms didn’t make him any less intimidating. His human clothing didn’t particularly suit him—if anything, it made him appear even more frightening. As a result, we were given a wide berth.

“I didn’t expect you to have demons in your holy knights.” The fact that she had brought him to an event like this was even more shocking. “I’m surprised it’s permitted,” I said, returning my gaze to Fiona.

Fiona giggled. “Have you forgotten my position?”

“Is it all right for the imperial princess to be keeping her distance from everyone else?”

“I’m careful about which parties I have Vromd accompany me to, of course. However, as there are few nobles among my supporters, the opportunities are rather frequent. Unfortunately, there doesn’t seem to be anybody I particularly desire to speak with here today.”

“Then why did you come at all?”

“Everyone here is a guest of the emperor. It’s better for me to participate, so as not to shame His Majesty.”

The party was apparently being held by the imperial court itself, and they had even extended invitations to us. Although we were hesitant at first, Fiona had encouraged us to attend, so we did. However, the emperor wasn’t present, so I couldn’t help but feel like we shouldn’t have bothered.

“More importantly, Seika.” Fiona twirled, making the hem of her gorgeous dress float gently. “What do you think?”

The sight of Fiona in her dress was so dazzling that it was hard to find the right words. Her beauty was something bards across the land praised with all the rhetoric at their disposal, yet even piling it all together seemed insufficient. In fact, the men Vromd was warding off were still gazing at her longingly.

That said, I still wasn’t sure how to respond. “If you’re fishing for praise, try someone else. I’m sure you’ll find no shortage,” I said, an awkward expression on my face.

“My, but it’s your praise I want more than anyone else’s.”

“Unfortunately, my vocabulary lacks the proper words,” I said. Unable to bear it, I looked away.

It wasn’t exactly a commendable attitude in terms of social etiquette, but I had always found formally praising a woman’s appearance uncomfortable. I had never grown accustomed to it, neither during my time in Japan nor during my travels across the mainland. Feeling a little guilty, I glanced at Fiona, only to find her looking quite pleased for some reason.

“Come to think of it, you were always like that. This takes me back.”

“Huh? What does?”

“Just talking to myself. However, Seika.” Fiona pointed behind me with her gaze. Amyu, Yifa, and Mabel were standing there. Glasses in their hands, they were huddled together in a small group to avoid standing out, captivated by the party. Fiona leaned in to whisper to me. “You can be careless with me, but not with them. Chances like this don’t come around very often.”

The three of them had also dressed up for the party. Their dresses were more subdued compared to Fiona’s, but each was finely tailored and chosen to match the colors of their hair and eyes. Their hair was carefully arranged, and they seemed to be wearing a hint of makeup as well, making them look like the daughters of noble families. It was clear why their preparations had taken so long. When they noticed both me and the beaming Fiona looking at them, they suddenly turned cheerful.

“Well, Seika? Don’t you have something to say?” Amyu demanded.

“Uh... Do I?”

“We’re waiting.”

Forced into an awkward spot, an uncomfortable expression appeared on my face, but there was no escape. “Umm... You three look very pretty.” Looking away, I barely managed to squeeze out the words. The three of them let out a cheer, half teasing, half giddy. Fiona joined, and before long, they were all excitedly chatting about accessories and beauty. Watching them, I let out a deep sigh. “Give me a break.”

“Master Seika, I’m embarrassed for you.” Annoyed, I tried to brush her away from my ear, but I felt Yuki dart away up toward the top of my head, hiding in my hair.

Feeling a sudden wave of weariness, I turned my gaze back to the hall. While I didn’t recognize a single face, they no doubt all belonged to noble houses or the families of assembly members. In terms of my previous life, they were probably like court officials. At any rate, I could never grow used to gatherings like this.

“Fiona.” Just then, a slightly hoarse voice rang out nearby. I turned and saw a young man addressing Fiona. “I didn’t think you were here today. Even dressed up so beautifully, you still prefer to bloom quietly off in the corner, don’t you?” he said with a gentle smile.

He was a slender man. Even in this hall full of delicate-looking gentlemen, he stood out as especially lacking in vigor, to the extent that he even seemed frail. In reality, he must have been sickly. His blond hair was pale enough to make him seem unhealthy, and his skin was ghostly white. Despite his youth, he leaned on a cane with his right hand. The dark-tinted glasses that looked somewhat out of place were likely meant to shield his eyes from strong light.

Still chatting with Amyu and the others, Fiona frowned momentarily, then turned to face the young man, clearly forcing a smile.

“My, good afternoon, Hiltzel.”

Hiltzel. That was a name I had heard before. Hiltzel Urd Alegreif was the first prince of the empire and Fiona’s older brother. Picking up on that, Amyu and the others immediately stiffened up. As we all fell silent, Fiona continued with a cold smile.

“How is your health? Please, don’t push yourself too much.”

“Fortunately, I’m feeling quite good today. I very much wanted to attend this party,” said Hiltzel.

I had heard rumors that the first prince was wise yet had a poor constitution. It seemed that was true.

Fiona turned her attention to the woman standing next to Hiltzel. “Now, that’s unusual. Elysia is accompanying you today?”

The woman didn’t respond, only giving a slight nod. She was younger than Hiltzel—perhaps only two or three years older than we were. Though she wore a stern expression, her features were striking. In contrast to the prince, her lustrous golden hair immediately drew one’s eye.

“For the daughter of Duke Madias, I thought it would be good for her to make an appearance every once in a while,” Hiltzel said. “I’d look a fool if my own fiancée constantly rejected me.”

“I see. Still, don’t overexert yourself. I’m sure Elysia is quite busy as well.” The woman gave a small, uneasy nod in response to Fiona’s smile.

She was apparently the first prince’s fiancée. It was unusual for the daughter of a prominent noble family to be as unaccustomed to social gatherings as she seemed to be.

“I won’t ask her to do anything unreasonable,” the prince said, paying no mind to his fiancée’s behavior. “I find her more lovely when she keeps to herself like this. More importantly...” With little preface, Hiltzel turned to Amyu. “You mustn’t keep this party’s hidden guest of honor to yourself, Fiona. Won’t you introduce me to your friends?” he said, looking straight at Amyu.

It was then that I realized the Hero was his reason for approaching us. Despite how weak he looked, he was surprisingly bold. While everyone else was keeping their distance, he had spoken to us without any fear of the ogre holy knight. Even now, he appeared relaxed and composed.

Amyu shot an uncertain glance at Fiona.

“Keep her to myself?” Fiona said to her half brother, looking deeply offended. “I was simply waiting for someone brave enough to approach.”

“Then it would seem I’ve earned the right.” Without waiting for an introduction, Hiltzel extended his left hand to Amyu. “It’s nice to meet you, Hero Amyu. I am Hiltzel Urd Alegreif. Despite my condition, I am an imperial prince.”

“Umm... Yes, I know. I’m Amyu. It’s an honor to meet you.” Amyu shook his hand as she gave her uncomfortable greeting.

“Forgive me for using my left hand. My body is too frail to let go of this cane, you see,” Hiltzel said self-deprecatingly. “I must say, I didn’t expect the legendary Hero to be such a lovely girl.” Hiltzel was a handsome man, not taking after his father, the emperor. Though there was no way it was possible, his looks combined with his frailty made him seem almost like an elf.

Amyu seemed to have frozen up before him.

“I heard you were entrusted with handling the rebel army,” Hiltzel said, darkness washing over his expression.

“Y-Yes. That’s right.”

“To think His Majesty would bring the Hero into a quarrel between humans. I cannot fathom what he’s thinking. I simply can’t believe this is the proper course of action. Are you truly not afraid? Even with the strength of the Hero, facing an army tens of thousands strong alone must be frightening. If you wish, I could petition His Majesty on your behalf so that you may still refuse.”

“N-No.” Despite being overwhelmed, Amyu shook her head. “I want to be part of the empire’s strength. And I’m not alone.”

“Of course,” Hiltzel said as though unsurprised by her response. “I heard that the Hero had reliable companions. They said a certain mage managed to quell the largest stampede in Rakana’s history in the blink of an eye.” Hiltzel turned to us, his eyes fixed on me behind his dark glasses. “Might that be you, Seika Lamprogue?”

I silently stared back at the prince. I couldn’t glean anything from the gentle smile on his lips. How much does he know? Why did he approach Amyu and me?

“Yes, it was me,” I quietly replied, lowering my eyes for a moment. Then I returned his smile. “I am Seika Lamprogue. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Prince Hiltzel. I’m honored that one hailed as the imperial family’s best and brightest knows my name.”

“Of course I know it. You’re the savior of a city. Count Lamprogue is an expert on magical studies, but I never imagined such a prodigy would be born to his family. Tell me, what sort of magic did you use?”

“I’m ashamed to admit that the rumors have taken on a life of their own,” I said, shaking my head. “Though my name spread because I roused people up a bit, I was but one of many who fought that day. The magic I used was sadly all quite ordinary.”

“Oh, is that so?” Hiltzel’s tone sounded disappointed. “Come to think of it, I did hear some rather far-fetched tales mixed in. Something about you felling a monster the size of a dragon with a single strike, as I recall.”

“Those fanciful rumors are a headache for me as well. No one person could quell a disaster of that scale single-handedly. If there were any saviors, it was the people who gave their lives for their comrades, not me.”

“Right you are. I shouldn’t have needed you to tell me that.” The prince scratched his cheek with an awkward smile.

Somehow, I made it through that. Internally, I was sweating profusely. I hadn’t expected carelessly using my real name to have such far-reaching effects. I was known to the imperial family of all things now. I was frustrated with my own stupidity. That said, because I had done something so far beyond the pale, it seemed to have caused the credibility of the story to drop. You never know what’ll end up working in your favor.

“It would seem I let myself get swept away by unfounded rumors, hoping you were someone who surpassed even the Hero.”

“Ha ha.” Neither confirming nor denying his statement, I simply forced a stiff smile and laughed it off. What if I had been someone who surpassed the Hero? I could only imagine it wouldn’t be anything favorable for me.

“Will you also be heading to suppress the revolt, Seika?”

“Yes, I’ll be going with Amyu.”

“I see. In that case, do be careful,” Hiltzel said with a suggestive smile. “That uprising is unusual—”

Just as the prince began speaking, the sound of glass shattering echoed through the hall. A shout rang out, and we all turned toward the source.

“It’s your fault things turned out like this!”

“Nonsense! You were the one who—”

Two young men appeared to be arguing about something. The taller of the two, a man with short hair and a large build, was grabbing the shorter one by the collar. Both of them seemed quite enraged.

“The tall one is the second prince Dilryne, and the one with long hair is the third prince Jaylud,” Fiona whispered into my ear.

I knit my brow. The second and third princes were big deals. What were they doing having such an unsightly spat at a social gathering? Everyone around just watched fearfully, as though unable to stop them. The second prince was particularly muscular, so it was possible that anyone who intervened might get hurt. I was content to wait for the guards, but...

“Knock it off.” A firm voice rang out. Hiltzel, leaning on his cane as he walked over to them, spoke sternly. “What do you think you’re doing in public? Look around. Everyone is in shock.”

Second Prince Dilryne released his younger brother’s collar and faced Hiltzel. Due to how much taller he was, it seemed like he was looking down on him.

“Brother, what are you thinking? Do you have any idea what you’re doing?!” Dilryne stepped up to Hiltzel. Watching the scene unfold, I felt a faint sense of dissonance. The second prince seemed far more robust physically compared to his sickly brother, yet alongside the anger in his eyes, there was something like fear.

“As the elder brother, I’m stopping a quarrel between my younger brothers. What else would it be?” Hiltzel declared firmly, looking up at his much larger younger brother. “Whatever the circumstances, both of you need to cool your heads,” he said with an exasperated expression.

“I’ll remember this!” Scowling, Dilryne turned on his heel and stomped away.

Meanwhile, Hiltzel walked over to the third prince. “Are you hurt, Jaylud?”

“Get away from me, freak!” Jaylud hurled insults at Hiltzel, then ran a hand through his disheveled hair and hastily walked off.

Hiltzel lowered the left hand he had extended and stood there at a loss.

“Are you all right, Your Highness?” I couldn’t help but ask out of pity. When Hiltzel turned around, his gentle smile was already back on his face.

“Yes, though I’m a little tired after that. I apologize, but would you mind taking me somewhere I can sit down?”

“Of course. Come with me.” I nodded, leading Hiltzel to a corner of the hall.

Pulling out one of the chairs lined up nearby, the prince set down his cane and took a seat. “I’m afraid we’ve shown our guests something unsightly,” he said with a bitter smile.

“It’s fine.”

“I can’t say we siblings are on great terms, but I’ve never seen it get that bad before. That took me by surprise.”

Unsure how to respond, I remained silent for a moment.

“Do you know how imperial succession is determined?”

“The emperor chooses one of his children, then the assembly and the people approve it, right?”

“Precisely,” Hiltzel said with a nod. “The emperor’s choice isn’t bound by the same strict rules as the nobility. Choosing a second son or eldest daughter is acceptable, and even finding a talented individual outside the imperial family and adopting them poses no issue. It’s happened many times throughout the empire’s history. However, it’s customary for the eldest son to be given priority unless there’s a clear difference in ability. As things stand, His Majesty shows no sign of adopting anyone. If it goes on like this, I will eventually inherit the throne. But as you can see, that poses a bit of a problem.”

Hiltzel shifted his dark glasses slightly, only to promptly put them back as though the light pained him. “My body has been frail ever since I was born. I can’t see well in bright places, so I have to constantly wear these glasses. As you can see, my legs are weak as well. My health deteriorates on a whim. Despite that, I’ve never neglected the studies required of an emperor. I believe I would be ready to stand at the head of the empire and govern at this very moment, but many deem me unfit for the task.”

“I can’t imagine it myself, but I’ve heard being the emperor is an unforgiving position.”

“Yes, though His Majesty certainly makes it look easy. In truth, it’s not a position an ordinary person is fit for, let alone someone sickly and frail—at least, that’s what they believe. Because of those who think that way, the imperial court has been thrown into chaos.”

“Are you talking about the factions that want to make the second and third princes the next emperor instead of you?”

“Yes.” Hiltzel nodded.

It was a story I’d heard countless times in my past life as well. Advancing second or third candidates and positioning oneself as their subordinate to share in the potential rewards was a common tactic used by those who currently found themselves with little influence.

“Seeing that my condition never improved despite growing older, some have begun switching allegiances to other factions,” Hiltzel continued, his voice tinged with sorrow. “My younger brothers started taking it seriously, and the bond between us only worsened. What began as sibling quarrels has turned into political strife. This revolt may be the same.”

“Does the revolt have some connection to the current political situation?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s possible my brothers were the ones pulling the strings behind the initial uprisings.”

“Seriously?” My surprise left me at a loss for words.

“The slave revolt occurred in Dilryne’s territory, and the religious uprising occurred in territory belonging to Jaylud’s primary backer. There are rumors that they may have sent agents to infiltrate and incite those with grievances in order to weaken each other’s support bases. Of course, they’re only rumors.”

“They would go that far to get their hands on the throne?”

“Historically speaking, it wouldn’t be particularly unusual.”

There were parts of Hiltzel’s explanation I could agree with. Looking back through history, such scheming wasn’t without precedent. But if that were the case, it meant that we had been tasked with cleaning up the aftermath of political conflict. Had it been a mistake to indulge Amyu’s whims and take on the responsibility? Just as I began to regret it, a sudden question arose in my mind.

“Wait, if that’s true, then why did the two revolts join together?”

“That I don’t know.” Hiltzel’s expression went blank, and he shook his head. “Even if they were initially behind it, I doubt the current situation is what my brothers desired. Perhaps the rebels found an unexpected kinship.” Hiltzel shrugged his shoulders as though he’d just made a foolish joke. “There are even rumors about someone called the War Princess, so who knows what anyone is plotting.”

“War Princess?”

“You haven’t heard of her?” Hiltzel looked at me in surprise as I repeated the unfamiliar term. “They say that in a city the rebel army was about to invade, a lone female knight arrived first and demanded that the residents surrender. The fleeing townspeople began calling her the War Princess, and the story eventually reached the court.”

“A female knight? Was she like a messenger for the rebel army?”

“If only that had been all she was. At first, the townspeople apparently refused her demands. The local militia even tried to detain her, but they were no match for her.”

I sighed. “Of course.”

“Even the knightly order defending the city and hired mercenaries stood no chance. They were all wiped out, yet supposedly, not a single person was killed or even seriously injured. She must have deliberately held back. The townspeople then decided to flee. They likely concluded that defending the city was impossible since a lone person had managed all that before the main rebel force even arrived. The true identity of the unusually powerful female knight is unknown, but some members of the assembly insist that this ‘War Princess’ is actually the leader of the rebel army.”

“Is that so?” It was a difficult story to judge. Superhuman strength could indeed captivate the masses and inspire devotion. It wasn’t impossible that this so-called War Princess had united the rebel forces and assumed the role of their leader. But would such a person truly join a rebellion of slaves and religious zealots?

Hiltzel suddenly smiled and spoke up as I wrestled with my thoughts. “My apologies. I didn’t mean to dishearten you before you set off to suppress that very revolt.”

“It’s fine.”

“Seeing as you’ve left home, I assume you have an older brother?”

“Yes. My eldest brother is succeeding the family, and my other older brother joined the military.”

“Do you get along with them?”

“Good question,” I replied awkwardly. “My younger brother and I don’t have a great relationship, but my oldest brother is a good guy, so I think we get along well enough.”

“If the eldest son is of fine character, then it sounds like the Lamprogue family’s future is secure.”

“Yeah. We’re lucky that my eldest brother was the one most suited to becoming the family’s heir. I’m sure even the brother I don’t get along with would agree on that.”

“I see. I must say, I’m envious of your brother. I wish I had that aptitude to lead the next generation, and humble siblings to support me,” Hiltzel said, grabbing the cane he had placed next to him. “We should head back. I’d feel bad keeping you after what I said to Fiona about monopolizing guests.”

“The Hero is one thing, but I don’t think anyone besides you would be interested in her companions. I’ll lend you my shoulder.”

“No, that’s quite all right. I can at least stand on my own,” Hiltzel said, planting his cane on the ground. At that moment, I suddenly sensed a faint flow of energy emanating from the prince.

“Your Highness...”

“Hmm?”

“Are you wearing some kind of magic item?”

Hiltzel’s eyes widened slightly. “You can tell?” he asked after a brief silence.

“No, I just had a feeling.”

“You surprised me. Yes, you’re correct, though it’s more of a trinket than anything.” Hiltzel pulled a thin chain necklace from inside his clothing. It appeared to be a pendant intricately modeled after an insect. It was a small beetle with long elytra—a firefly, perhaps. “This ornament glows when infused with magical power.”

“Huh.” I looked more closely, but the flow of energy was too faint to make out. That was probably the full extent of its functionality.

“I bought it thinking it would be handy in dark places, but in the end, the only time I ever made it glow was at the very beginning. It’s too dim to serve as a light, and the moment I use even the slightest bit of magical power, I start to feel ill. Honestly, I can’t stand my body.” Putting the pendant back, Hiltzel stood up. His movement was surprisingly smooth, carrying a sense of familiarity that came from living with an inconvenient condition for a long time.

“Your Highness,” I said, standing up after him, “I’m rooting for you. Not as a member of the Lamprogue family, I’m afraid, but as an individual.” The words slipped out naturally. For some reason, he reminded me of the young rulers I had met in demon territory over the summer.

The prince looked surprised for a moment, then broke into a smile. “Thank you. That’s plenty. I might have made it sound like it was other people’s fault, but the chaos in the imperial court is all the result of my own inadequacy. And it can be righted through my own effort. That’s what I believe. Farewell.” Hiltzel slipped into the crowd of people filling the hall.

I found myself letting my eyes wander over the party until Fiona made her way over to me some time later. “Seika.”

“Oh, sorry. We got lost in conversation.”

“I even told you to stay by my side today,” Fiona said reproachfully. “So, what did Hiltzel have to say?”

“Just small talk, mostly. He told me a bit about the imperial court and the revolt, but it wasn’t anything major.” To confirm what I had heard, I gave Fiona a brief account of my talk with the prince. She listened, a faintly troubled look crossing her face before she spoke.

“All of that is true, but it’s a little incomplete. There are two other factions in addition to the first, second, and third princes’. I would say they’re the ones giving him a hard time.”

“There are only three princes. What are the other two?”

“Have you forgotten? One of them is me.”

“Oh, right.”

“I’m sure he must find it incredibly irritating that a faction that’s only a few years old is gaining so much power. Not only his younger brothers, but even a sister born to a mistress has joined in the struggle for the throne. How vexing it must seem.”

“Yet he didn’t say a word about you.”

“He wouldn’t say anything negative about me in front of someone under my patronage, I’m sure. Though perhaps it’s simply that I’m not worth acknowledging in the first place. There have only been a handful of empresses in the empire’s long history, after all.”

“So what’s the other faction?”

“The current emperor’s.”

“Huh?” I was puzzled. “How can the current emperor have a faction when these factions are all supposed to be supporting one of the heirs?”

“The emperor’s faction is a group that expects the emperor to adopt a talented heir from outside. If the princes come into conflict with the emperor, they act in ways that serve the emperor’s interests.”

“Oh, I see. That sounds like a bit of a gamble.”

“Even so, they’re the second-largest group. Many of them defected from the first prince’s faction. Just last year, Marquess Daramat, whose territory includes Tenend, took action with the emperor’s faction and became the talk of the court. He had been a strong supporter of Hiltzel until then.” Even I had heard of Marquess Daramat and the canyon city of Tenend. It seemed Hiltzel’s faction was now at the point where prominent figures were beginning to defect. “That just shows how uneasy everyone feels about entrusting the throne to the current princes. Of course, it has given me an opening to exploit as well.”

“Are you actually serious about going after the throne?”

Fiona giggled. “Would you like to know?”

“No, never mind.” I got the feeling nothing good would come from finding out the answer. Instead, I asked another question. “Who is the anti-Hero faction with?”

“The second and third princes’ factions have some particularly radical members. Criticism against them has grown louder since Marquess Greville’s blunder, and I hear their position is tenuous even within their own factions now.”

“I certainly wouldn’t complain if they self-destructed.”

“They’ve become a bit too radical, which does make them an issue, but now that the emperor has personally summoned Amyu, it’s only a matter of time until they collapse.”

If we accepted the emperor’s request and suppressed the revolt, the voices approving of the Hero would likely only grow stronger. Looking at it that way, maybe cleaning up after political strife wasn’t entirely a bad thing. Recalling that strife, I asked Fiona another question.

“What about the revolts? Have you heard any rumors about them being instigated by the second and third princes?”

“Yes.” Fiona nodded, a troubled expression on her face. “I suspect they’re true.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

Hearing my accusatory tone, Fiona’s gaze sharpened. “Would telling you have changed your decision?” she retorted. “I was opposed to your involvement from the start. I do believe I informed you that it might result in you getting dragged into political conflict.”

“That’s true.” If she had thought it would persuade us, she would’ve mentioned it. I couldn’t blame her for not passing on information we would’ve brushed aside anyway.

“Besides, even if my brothers started it, the situation has progressed well beyond that point,” Fiona continued, still wearing a dissatisfied expression.

“I’m told there’s a War Princess too.”

“There are such rumors, yes.” This time, Fiona looked like she felt a little guilty. “To be clear, I kept quiet about that one for the opposite reason—I didn’t believe it to be credible. On the battlefield, strange rumors are always circulating, of comrades who return from the dead to lend aid, or of people claiming to have seen the form of a god.”

“I get it. I’m not blaming you.” It was a rumor that left me at a loss for how to respond. Fiona must have found it difficult to convey as well. I took a short breath. “Well, it doesn’t seem like he was lying to me. Not that I really felt like he was.”

“Seika.” Fiona addressed me with a firm expression. “What do you think of Hiltzel?”

I took a moment to consider my answer. “I feel bad saying this to you, but I thought he was a good fit to inherit the throne. He’s honest, intelligent, and has self-awareness and resolve befitting the imperial family. He has the unreadable qualities of a politician, but I think that’s necessary in a ruler.” As far as flaws went, his frail constitution was the only thing that came to mind. Had he been born with a healthy body, I doubted anybody would object to his taking the throne. I thought I had given a reasonable opinion, but Fiona’s expression grew even more grim.

“Don’t trust him too much.”

“What do you mean?”

Fiona continued without giving me a chance to question her. “He’s a politician, just as I am.”

◆ ◆ ◆

After that, we departed the capital as planned. It would take several days to reach the center of the revolt by carriage, so we were going to stay at inns in several cities along the way. Tonight’s stop in the canyon town of Tenend was one of them.

“Whoa...”

From the window, Amyu and the others caught sight of it and let out cries of wonder. Tenend was a city built atop a sheer cliff. It stood on a high plateau, overlooking the surrounding land. Though we couldn’t see it from where we were, the terrain behind the city was said to be a treacherous forest, nearly impossible to enter. The slopes looked gentler and easier to climb to the east and west, but a deep canyon stretched on either side, framing the city.

“I can’t believe they built a city in a place like that,” Amyu said in amazement.

“It’s said to have started as a settlement built by people fleeing barbarian tribes. More and more people gathered here as the years passed, and now it’s one of the empire’s major cities,” I replied.

“How are we even supposed to get there?”

“Those bridges spanning the canyon,” I said. Amyu and the others leaned forward to look out the window. “They say a powerful mage built them about three hundred years ago. The city was only able to grow so large because of the two bridges.”

“I guess that makes sense. Nobody would be able to gather there without them.”

“It’s convenient that there’s one on each side. It doesn’t look easy to climb all the way up there.”

“I’m a little nervous,” Mabel said, unusually timid. “I’ve never crossed a bridge that old before.”

“That’s a good point, now that you mention it.” Was it even possible to properly repair damaged sections of a bridge created through magic?

Just then—

“Foolish humans.” A voice echoed through the carriage. It belonged to an elf sitting in front of us. “You speak of a mere three centuries past as though it were ancient times. Structures of that age are common to us elves,” the boy declared with a composed smile, not making any effort to read the mood inside the carriage.

He had long ears, radiant golden hair, and, typical of an elf, beautiful features that could easily cause one to mistake him for a woman. Yet all I felt toward him was irritation. When we first met, he had introduced himself as the sixth seat of the holy knights, Yorgie Norn Zott Solarios Tiziet Ren.

That struck me as an unusually long name for an elf, but apparently it was standard for elves and dark elves—they just didn’t normally use their full names. They were only spoken at birth, marriage, and funeral rites, he had explained haughtily and unprompted. That had been a clue as to what we were in for, and sure enough, he was among the worst companions I’d ever had the displeasure of traveling with.

As the mood inside the carriage plummeted, I couldn’t help but sigh. “I know Fiona said there was only a foul-tempered holy knight available, but I didn’t expect it to be this bad. Is it too late to trade our escort?”

“Not only foolish, but also crass. Did you think that by saying she spoke ill of me, you could attack me without drawing my ire onto yourself? Truly, humans are nothing if not conniving. I won’t fall for such tricks.”

“No, it’s just true.”

“If anything, the princess would’ve said I have a difficult personality.”

“Oh, so you have some self-awareness after all. Did Fiona not give you a warning before you accompanied us?”

“She instructed me to refrain from discourteous behavior. I understood that to mean I was to make an honest effort, which I am doing even now,” the elf holy knight stated confidently.

As I was stunned into silence, Amyu was the next to speak up in irritation.

“This guy’s really annoying. I’ve never seen such a cocky kid in all my life.”

“Foolish human. I am no child. Elves live far longer than humans. Surely you at least know that.”

“Yeah, I do know. And I know that elves age like humans until they’re around fifteen. And since you’re still a pip-squeak, that means you must be a kid.”

Without responding, Ren opened the window and looked outside, muttering something about the wind feeling pleasant.

Not even Amyu had anything to say to that.

◆ ◆ ◆

A few days later, we arrived at the location where the revolt was said to be taking place. I found myself standing before a certain town, gazing out over the plain that stretched out before my eyes. It was a city of little note, with walls so low they could hardly be called ramparts, yet we were here because one of the rebel army’s forces was marching toward it.

“They’re supposed to number around three thousand,” the holy knight Ren said, standing beside me.

“Sounds about right,” I scoffed in reply.

Relying on intelligence brought to us by Fiona’s subordinates, we had decided to intercept one of the rebel groups. Due to supply constraints, the rebel army was unable to sustain itself without constantly invading towns and villages. Thus, striking the groups that split off to attack those settlements seemed like the easiest approach.

And we weren’t merely going to drive them off—we were going to neutralize every last one of them. We could have held back our strength and dragged things out while waiting for the imperial army to arrive, but there was no telling when reinforcements would be dispatched. Rather than wait, it was better to finish the job as quickly as possible. In addition, we determined that if we were going to use force, it was preferable to do so in such an outrageous way that made the rumors less credible.

“Maybe we should make it look like an awful plague spread through the rebel army.” Given what we were about to do, it seemed like a smart idea. I would have to suggest it to Fiona upon our return.

As I thought to myself, I looked far into the distance. The army was already in sight. They were still a long way off, but there were a lot of them. The sheer scale of three thousand men gave off a pressure that threatened to engulf you in an instant, no matter how mighty or valiant a fighter you were.

I observed the advanced army through the vision of a shikigami I had sent high into the sky. It was roughshod, but they were in a formation of sorts. Their equipment was poor, none of them wore armor, and their pace was so quick that it made me wonder if their stamina would last.

“Their equipment is about as expected, but they’re more orderly than I thought they’d be,” I mumbled to myself, putting my hand on my chin. They must have a leader. Not only that, but being able to split their army up into multiple groups means there must be several officers with some level of tactical knowledge. Though they probably aren’t experts, given their reckless pace.

“What a sight. So many foolish humans. It gives me chills,” Ren said next to me with his usual composed smile. “So, what’s the plan? Even I’m no match for that many. If things go poorly, I’m going to have to take my leave.”

“Like I said, I’m capturing them all.”

My hitogata were already in place. I’d sent Amyu and the others into the town just to be safe, but I had no intention of letting anyone through. Due to their abnormally quick pace, the rebel force had already closed in to the point where I could almost make out the faces of the soldiers in the front.

I made a hand sign with one hand. I didn’t give any prior warning. The rebels faced either execution or enslavement. They wouldn’t willingly lay down their arms in such circumstances, so I would need to settle things in one move. Using the hitogata, I cast a large-scale barrier around the rebel army. It wasn’t to dispel a curse—it was to keep the effects of my spell from leaking out. I then whispered a mantra.

Phase of fire and earth: Greek Smoke. Billowing white smoke began to fill the barrier that had encased the army. It quickly engulfed the rebel forces, hiding them from sight.

“It’s over,” I said, exhaling as I released the hand sign. “All that’s left is to capture them now that they’re weakened.”

The white smoke that had consumed the rebel army was a poisonous gas produced by burning sulfur that caused intense pain to the eyes and throat if inhaled. It was said that the Greek city-state of Sparta had once used it during a siege. While it could cause death in high concentrations, inhaling a moderate amount simply pacified enemies and made them unable to fight back. It didn’t completely remove their ability to move, but it was good enough. As long as I could temporarily take away their resistance, there were plenty of ways to capture them.

“Should be just a little more,” I mumbled, monitoring the density of the smoke inside the barrier. “Letting them inhale too much would be an issue if the commander were to die.”

“You use strange magic, foolish human. Is that smoke inside the rectangular barrier?” Ren asked.

“Not ordinary smoke, but yes.”

“How cruel. Have you no heart? There’s no honor to be gained on the battlefield like this.”

“There’s no honor to be found on any of my battlefields.”

“I appreciate the confidence, but are you certain about this?” Ren asked, his smile unfaltering. “There hasn’t been a single scream or shout from that direction.”

I turned my gaze back to the clouds of smoke. There was no change within—the army was silent. Too much so. Greek Smoke affected the eyes and throat. There should be chaos in the ranks. Something was clearly off.

“Did they all die?” I muttered, doubt welling up within me. “That can’t be. It shouldn’t have been that dense...” At the very least, instant death was impossible—so what was going on? Keeping my guard up, I released the barrier. First, I needed to confirm the situation.

The wind blew away the poisonous gas, and the army began to walk out of the smoke.

“Huh?!” I couldn’t help but gasp. The army was completely unaffected. It was as though they had simply resumed their march. That’s not possible. They can’t be unharmed after their eyes and throats were exposed to the gas.

“Wait...” I realized something. The rebel army was behaving oddly. None of its soldiers had any life to them. Their eyes were vacant, and their steps unsteady. Some stared off into the sky, while others were bloodied as though gravely wounded.

Thinking back on what I had seen through my shikigami, I gritted my teeth. My spell didn’t make them behave strangely. They were like this from the start.

“Ah ha ha!” Ren stepped forward with a hollow laugh, quietly drawing a shortsword from an unusually bulky scabbard at his hip. “How intriguing!”

It was a sword made of unrefined ore, rather than metal. Judging from its vivid coloration, it seemed to be made of magic stone, and a high-quality one at that. Minerals were hard yet brittle, making them ill-suited for use as swords. It would likely shatter from clashing with an enemy’s blade just a few times.

Ren raised the sword above his head, then swung it down at the oncoming enemy. The rebel forces were still quite a distance away. There was no way it would reach them—yet it reached them nevertheless. Countless magical blades burst from the sword’s edge.

“Wha—”

The enemy vanguard was burned by fire, sliced by wind, pierced by ice, and pelted by stones. It was as though a massive blade had swept through them, cleaving away an entire portion of the army. Ren raised his sword once again.

I immediately gasped and shouted, “Stop! They’re—”

“Foolish, unsightly, hopeless humans.” Ren swung his sword in a grand motion. Magic of every element was unleashed once more, turning into a blade that tore through the rebel army along the line of the sword’s swing. “It seems you didn’t quite anticipate this situation.” The holy knight’s smile had twisted into something cruel. “The rebel army is already dead. Every last one of them.”

“Wh-What?” I didn’t understand.

“Let me put this in a way even a foolish human can understand—they appear to be corpses,” Ren replied with a touch of pride. “That they are moving, of course, means they are being controlled by someone. In other words, it’s an army of undead, being manipulated by a necromancer.”

“Undead? All of them?”

Necromancy, the art of placing a soul into a corpse and controlling it, was a common technique even in my previous world. Jiangshi reanimated by Taoists were a well-known example, but similar techniques existed in other families of sorcery across the world. Having fought one in the combat tournament in the capital, I knew that necromancers existed in this world as well. In addition, their undead existence would explain why the poison gas had no effect. That said...

“Is it possible to control three thousand at once?”

“Almost all the elementals gathered around them are of the dark element. That would never be the case with a group of normal humans. They’re textbook undead. Also,” Ren continued, still swinging his sword, “it’s not three thousand. I’m quite certain the entire rebel army—all tens of thousands of them—are corpses under the sway of an unseen master.”

I was speechless. Certainly, if that were true, everything would fall into place. It explained why a slave revolt and a religious revolt, two completely different groups, had joined forces. The presence of an orderly chain of command, capable of splitting and directing multiple forces, now also seemed more reasonable.

However, that would mean the necromancer behind it had incredible skill. Since the spell had been maintained even through the poison gas, that meant the caster wasn’t present. They must have been controlling the army from afar, perhaps even controlling groups in other locations simultaneously. It was necromancy on a scale I’d never seen even in my past life.

“What will you do, foolish human?” Ren asked. “If you’re out of options, then I’m going to be on my way. The city will likely be overrun, but that’s no concern of mine.” The elven holy knight’s sword didn’t stop as he spoke, continually shaving away at the undead army’s front line. Still, he wouldn’t be able to stop them all, and they were gradually getting closer.

Clicking my tongue, I floated a new hitogata in the air. “I have plenty of options.” I then sent it toward the mass of undead, just barely hovering above the ground.

If my goal were simply to neutralize them, all I needed to do was dispel the magic, and they would return to being ordinary corpses. However, doing so might cause any evidence of the magic to disappear as well. I wanted to avoid erasing any potential leads if possible. Instead, I would destroy them physically.

Gliding through the air, the hitogata lost momentum just before reaching the rebels’ front line and stuck to the ground. Then I made a hand sign.

Phase of metal: Needle Mountain. Countless spikes rose up beneath the army’s feet. The round, steel spikes pierced through the corpses, halting their march. They still tried to move forward, likely because they felt no pain, but it was impossible. Their advance had been stopped for the time being. I had used the spell over a wide area so I wouldn’t miss a single corpse, turning everything surrounding the army into a hell of spike-covered mounds.

Overwhelmed, the elf boy fell silent.

“We’re investigating them after this. No running away,” I said, turning to face him.

Greek Smoke

A spell that creates sulfur dioxide gas. The gas created from burning sulfur causes intense pain in the eyes, throat, and nose of those exposed to it, and can even result in death if high concentrations are inhaled. The Spartan army’s use of it during the Peloponnesian War is said to be the first recorded instance of chemical warfare. While the gas is ordinarily colorless, Seika mixes in steam to turn it white in order to determine the effective radius.

Needle Mountain

A spell that creates a large number of conical steel spikes. Because it isn’t very precise, it’s generally used against large groups of enemies.

Act 3

“Let’s go back to the capital.”

That night, I gathered everyone at the inn where we were staying and explained what had happened, though the details were so shocking I wasn’t sure they’d really be able to digest it.

“The situation has changed.” Nonetheless, I continued because I thought it needed to be said. “We can’t continue to quash the revolt. Their entire army has been turned into walking corpses. We should head back.”

The enemy wasn’t a disorganized mob—it was a powerful mage hostile to the empire. That fact majorly impacted how we needed to respond.

“We should leave as soon as everyone’s ready tomorrow. Are you all okay with that?” I asked.

“But even if they’re corpses, they’re still attacking cities, aren’t they? Somebody has to stop them...” Amyu said reluctantly.

“That’s not our—” I cut myself off. Logical arguments weren’t going to work on Amyu as she was now. “The enemy is a skilled necromancer. The empire doesn’t know that yet. We might be able to stop the undead, but we can’t stop the necromancer unless we find their location. Continuing to fight here will just let the damage spread elsewhere. It’s better to report back and have the empire’s intelligence try to locate the one behind it.”

“Can’t we just send a letter to Fiona? We don’t have to go back ourselves.”

“Amyu.” A bitter expression washed over my face. She was right about that. I wasn’t sure how to persuade her. “Had we come here on our own after hearing about the revolt, that would be fine, but we’re here at the emperor’s request. We agreed, which means we can’t do as we please. If we’ve obtained information that changes the very premise of the request, we’re obligated to report it.” Almost as an afterthought, I added one more thing. “I’m sure it’s what the emperor would expect.”

Amyu pursed her lips and fell silent. “All right,” she finally said.

I let out a sigh of relief. I wasn’t explicitly telling Amyu this, but I intended to withdraw from this affair no matter what happened when we returned. They couldn’t have predicted this, but the situation had nevertheless turned out exactly as Fiona and Yuki had feared. I would figure out what to say to Amyu once we got back to the capital.

“I’m opposed to that idea,” Ren suddenly said. “Returning is out of the question. Please refrain from causing trouble for the princess,” he continued, wearing his composed smile.

“Huh?” I frowned at the holy knight. “I don’t follow. How would our return be a problem for Fiona?”

“Do you truly believe the premise of the request has changed?” Ren looked at me, a half smile on his face. “Foolish, hopelessly naive human. You place a lot of faith in this country’s ruler. Do you think he wasn’t aware it was an army of undead?”

“Surely not...” My voice trailed off. It was by no means impossible that the emperor had known all along. In fact, it seemed far more unnatural to think that the emperor wouldn’t know something we had discovered almost immediately upon our arrival. “Still, you think he sent us here knowing the situation? Why not tell us everything?”

“I haven’t the slightest clue what this country’s ruler is thinking. However, I do know that you’ll fall into a precarious position should you return to the capital.”

“Why do you say that?”

“People will see it as the Hero abandoning an imperial edict and fleeing the battlefield.”

I frowned in response. “But that’s not true. It didn’t pass through the assembly, so it’s not an imperial edict. And we’re not fleeing, we’re just reporting back.”

“That may be true, but the truth is easily overturned when it comes to politics.”

“Ridiculous. The emperor doesn’t control imperial law. He can’t hand down a punishment without any basis in fact. Even if he fabricates some sort of failure, he can’t—” I was about to say he couldn’t do anything, but I stopped myself. Was that really true?

“On the contrary, he can do anything.” Ren’s smile darkened as he spoke. “Under the pretext of making you atone for your wrongdoing, he could give you any order he wants. The Hero would be placed under the emperor’s control. Any dissenting voices would be drowned out by public condemnation. That’s how politics works. And if things go poorly, the consequences could even reach the princess tied to you. That’s why I’m telling you not to go back.”

“Following that logic, isn’t the result the same even if we don’t go back?” I retorted, my voice low. “He could just claim that we hid the truth, causing unnecessary damage, and punish us for that instead.”

“Certainly, but there’s one key difference.”

“And what’s that?”

“If you remain here and fight the undead army, lives will be saved, foolish human. Lives are property of their lords, and by extension, the empire. The fact that you protected them can serve as a countermeasure against any fabricated crime. Such leverage may be useless to you, but the princess can wield it well. She can win the support of the indebted lord whose people were saved, and the assembly members who would feel guilty criticizing someone who was only trying to save lives. In the end, it is a way for you to save yourselves as well. Do you understand, foolish human? The Hero has no choice but to become the people’s savior.”

I clicked my tongue at the smiling elf. The situation was worse than I thought. I didn’t know how much of what the holy knight said was true, but it wasn’t wise to simply brush it off as a joke.

“In addition,” Ren continued, “maintaining the fight against the undead may allow us to obtain information capable of turning this situation around.”

“Like what?”

“Isn’t it obvious? The necromancer’s location.” The boy’s smile deepened. “Defeat the necromancer, and the revolt will be quelled. None will dare criticize the Hero who completed the emperor’s request. In fact, she would gain great renown.”

“That’s not realistic.” I looked down and shook my head. “We can’t gain any information from corpses, and I don’t imagine undead are any different. Where are we going to find any leads?”

The enemy seemed to be a necromancer of considerable strength. I’d examined the impaled corpses while they were still moving and hadn’t found any trace connecting them back to the caster. Even the flow of energy had been disguised to appear natural. Had Ren not noticed the abnormality with the elementals, it might have taken us even longer to make the discovery. We were dealing with someone extremely meticulous.

Defeating them head-on would be simple, but sorcerers like that didn’t fight head-on. Finding and defeating them would be a nigh impossible task.

“You’re so quick to give up, foolish human,” Ren said, his usual composed smile returning. “Personally, I don’t think it’s impossible. I’m certain luck will eventually turn in our favor. In any case, I’ll repeat myself—don’t even consider going back.”

I silently weighed our options. It certainly didn’t seem like we had a choice but to remain and fight. There were no undead left here, so we would have to head to another city. Using Mizuchi would make it easy, but I couldn’t do that in the middle of human territory. All that traveling was going to be hard on everyone.

“Seika, you can go back to the capital. Yifa and Mabel too,” Amyu said suddenly. “Not killing anyone isn’t a concern now, since they’re already dead. You guys only got wrapped up in this because I didn’t think it through. I’m sure I’ll be able to manage on my own. I’m not sure why, but I just get that feeling.” Amyu wouldn’t look anyone in the eyes.

It was clear that she felt indebted to us, yet there didn’t appear to be any arrogance or bravado in her words.

“So you guys should go back.”

“No.” It was Mabel who gave the immediate, curt reply. “I said it back in Rakana too. We’re in this together. Besides, leaving you behind for the most dangerous part is way too risky.”

“I’m staying too! Though I may not be able to help much...” said Yifa.

“You guys...” Amyu looked between the two of them, then hesitantly turned to me.

I couldn’t help but smile. “Stupid. Just leave—” I caught myself mid-sentence and paused for a moment, but my smile quickly returned. “Just leave it to me. We’re a party, aren’t we?”

“Thanks. I’ll do my part,” Amyu said with a faint smile.

I returned the smile, but internally, I was still unsettled by the words I had almost let slip.

Just leave it to me. You’re my disciple, aren’t you?

I had found myself unconsciously about to echo the words I had once spoken to that girl.

◆ ◆ ◆

Apart from her holy knights, Fiona had another group for intelligence gathering. From the reports brought by her swift horses, we were able to get a rough idea of the rebel army’s positions and where they were marching.

“We didn’t make it in time, huh?” I muttered, looking out at the city before us.

The city that we had been told one of the rebel armies was heading toward had already fallen. Part of the city’s walls had completely collapsed. Buildings were destroyed all over, and black smoke rose in the distance.

“What the heck... It’s already...” Amyu sounded despondent, and Yifa and Mabel seemed to be at a loss for words as well.

“Ah, found one,” Ren called out cheerfully. Without missing a beat, he swung his shortsword. A blade of wind and pebbles shot forth, slicing an undead that had emerged from cover cleanly in two. “The main force seems to have left, but there are still some undead remaining,” he said, shouldering the magic stone sword. “We should take care of them first. I’m going to check this direction, so you all can handle things elsewhere.” Leaving us with that, Ren briskly walked off.

Though we were shocked by his selfish behavior for a moment, Amyu quickly recovered and spoke up with determination.

“We should go too! Split up and look around! There might be survivors!”

“Y-Yeah!” Yifa agreed.

“All right,” said Mabel.

“Yifa, you stick with Mabel,” I said as the three were about to run off. “It’s dangerous for someone on the back line to be by themselves.” Yifa stopped for a moment, then nodded and followed after Mabel. Frankly, I didn’t really want Amyu to be on her own either, but she’d probably be fine.

“Now then...” Opening up a gateway, I pulled out a large number of hitogata from the other plane. I turned about ten of them into crows, then changed the remainder into rats and dispersed them through the city. That would allow me to search a decently wide area. “Guess I’ll go deal with the most troublesome-looking one.”

As I walked toward the center of the city, I focused on what my shikigami could see. It was no ordinary undead that had caused the city to fall. The corpses of slaves and religious zealots alone couldn’t topple walls or buildings, though it was possible that whatever had done it had already departed alongside the main force.

“Hmm?” A figure entered my vision. It wore dirty clothes, had vacant eyes, drooled, and carried an axe.

“Oooh!” The undead abruptly turned to me and began running. Letting out a small sigh and turning away from it, I made a hand sign. “You’re not the one I have business with.”

Summoning: Hihirukiri. A bronze-colored sword emerged from the spatial distortion. It spun through the air, promptly decapitating the undead. As the corpse collapsed, the sword lodged itself into a chunk of rubble. However, a moment later, it began to shake and sprang free. It bounced after me, soon catching up and drifting lazily at my side. I glanced over at it out of the corner of my eye. It was almost like an eager dog. Were it not for the eye squirming in its hilt, I might have found it cute.

Hihirukiri was a tsukumogami, an inanimate object turned into an ayakashi after absorbing strong human emotions—in this case, a bronze sword. Hihirukiri had been forged eight centuries ago, and perhaps because it had absorbed emotions for such a long period, it possessed an abnormal amount of power for a tsukumogami. Despite being made of simple bronze, its sharpness surpassed any renowned blade. That said, tsukumogami were mostly docile by nature, and Hihirukiri was no exception. It wasn’t willing to cut down living humans, so now was the perfect time to use it.

I walked through the destroyed city, focusing on the vision of my shikigami. Hihirukiri would deal with the undead that occasionally appeared on its own, so my search wouldn’t be interrupted. When I looked up, I saw a pillar of fire shooting diagonally into the sky. It was probably Ren’s magic. Maybe he had run into something dangerous up ahead.

“Oh.” I paused, picking up something through the vision of a rat. “That must be it,” I muttered, swapping places with the shikigami.

The scene before my eyes shifted dramatically. Though the cityscape itself was similar, the details were completely different. Directly ahead of me stood a tall, five-story building. Its top floor was partially destroyed, with a large boulder lodged in it. On the lower floors, I could see the figures of people screaming in terror.

There, standing in the middle of the street and staring up at the building, was the one responsible. He was a large, somewhat heavyset man. He was clearly a lifeless undead, yet he wore adventurer gear and held a mage’s staff in his hand.

“Shaking, resounding yellow... Spirits of steadfast rock, who have endured endless wind and rain...” A hollow incantation spilled from his lips.

I figured as much. I sent a hitogata flying. “So you can still use magic even after being turned into an undead.” A moment later, the boulder created by the undead mage disappeared, dispelled by the hitogata.

With movements devoid of purpose, the man seemed to notice me and looked my way. Raising his staff, he began another incantation. Feeling a hint of pity, I formed a hand sign. “I shouldn’t have left Hihirukiri behind.”

Phase of earth: Tengu’s Beard. A shrill sound cut through the air, and the undead’s head went flying. The slash continued into surrounding buildings, kicking up a clean line of dust as it cut through walls and fences. A moment later, the headless body toppled over.

“I’ve never been fond of this spell,” I said with a sigh. The thread made of volcanic rock fiber that had sliced through everything disappeared. I wanted to examine the corpse, but that could wait. I had taken care to avoid cutting the building the survivors were inside with Tengu’s Beard, and called out to them from below.

“I’m here to rescue you. The building isn’t stable, so be careful as you leave.” The people inside only looked at me fearfully from the window and didn’t respond. They were probably just afraid. Once they realized it was safe, they would eventually come out.

“All right.” I had dealt with the one I suspected was responsible for destroying the city. There might have been others, so I would need to continue searching, but retrieving Hihirukiri took priority. I didn’t need to worry about it killing anyone, but it was likely lost without me around.

At that moment, I caught a glimpse of Amyu through a rat’s vision and quickly changed plans. Postponing collecting my ayakashi, I decided to head to her.

“Amyu!” I called out to her immediately after teleporting. Amyu was next to a collapsed building, struggling to lift a large piece of rubble.

“Seika! Come over here and help!” Amyu shouted, crouched by the rubble. Once I ran over, I immediately understood why—a small hand was sticking out from beneath the rubble. “Someone’s trapped underneath! Grab that side!” Amyu pointed to one edge of the debris.

“Got it.” It would certainly be easier to lift using a spell, but it was difficult to control the precision. Without knowing what things looked like underneath, it was safer to use my bare hands. Timing it with Amyu, we put our strength into lifting the rubble. Slowly, it began to rise. Between my qigong technique and Amyu’s raw strength, we managed to lift far beyond what an ordinary human was capable of. Unfortunately, the hunk of stone was so large that it was still difficult.

“I’ll hold it up, so pull the kid out!” I said, my voice strained.

“A-All right!” Amyu crawled underneath, then came back carrying a small body that appeared to be a girl. She was covered in dust and wasn’t moving, but I could sense a faint flow of energy, so she must have only been unconscious. Then, for reasons I couldn’t guess, Amyu crawled back under the rubble once more.

“Hey!”

“There’s one more!” she shouted back at me.

Sweating, I struggled to hold up the rubble. Just as I was starting to wonder if I should use a spell, Amyu came out with another person. Much larger than the girl, he appeared to be a middle-aged man. The moment I realized what was happening, my expression hardened. Once Amyu and the man had fully emerged, I let go of the rubble I’d been holding. With a heavy crash, a cloud of dust billowed up.

Amyu was panting heavily. Once I managed to catch my own breath, I quietly spoke up. “Amyu, he’s already...”

“I know.” Amyu bit her lip.

The man was already dead. He had presumably been an inhabitant of the city. He looked like the sort of man you could find anywhere.

“Ah...” A small voice rang out. The girl’s eyes opened slightly.

“Are you awake?” Amyu asked, leaning forward. “Are you hurt anywhere?”

“D-Dad...” The girl extended her small hand to the unmoving man, but she was completely exhausted. Her hand fell to the ground, never reaching him. She appeared to have lost consciousness again.

Amyu and I stood there in silence for a while.

◆ ◆ ◆

We spent the day clearing out the undead scattered through the city to the best of our ability. We stopped before night fell and the crows’ vision deteriorated, but the rotten horde’s density had already decreased enough that by that point, I was having trouble finding anything through the vision of my rat shikigami.

Despite our efforts, we had by no means eliminated all the attackers. Judging by the scale of the destruction, it was obvious that the main force had already left the city, leaving behind only a small detachment. Yet just dealing with that had sapped us of so much energy and spirit.

The surviving citizens had now gathered in the few buildings that still stood. Everyone was exhausted, but since there was no guarantee that all the undead had been eliminated, those with any stamina left took turns standing watch through the night. The atmosphere was like that of a camp of war refugees driven from their homes.

“It’s just as we feared,” Ren said beneath a dim light.

We were currently borrowing a building that had been used for hiring carriages. The sun had long since set, and the drivers and stablehands were already asleep. We would’ve preferred to have been sleeping ourselves, but there was something we needed to discuss first.

“The enemy appears to be able to turn the citizens of the cities they conquer into undead.” Everyone’s faces darkened at Ren’s words, but the elf paid them no mind as he continued. “We faced several undead who appeared to be adventurers that I suspect were corpses from other cities.”

“Probably,” I agreed.

Because the army was tens of thousands strong, that was something we had feared. It was too large to simply be a mob of slaves and religious zealots. We weren’t able to discern why at first, but once we learned they were undead, we could guess where they were coming from.

“And an undead’s strength appears to be determined by the person they were originally. What a backbreaking day,” Ren said with an exhausted sigh. Despite his complaint, the holy knight didn’t have a single injury. The undead adventurers we’d faced had been relatively strong, but to have been selected by Fiona, he must have had considerable strength himself.

“Even if they’re dead, they’re still human bodies. The stronger their muscles, the more force they can produce.” What I hadn’t expected, however, was that they could still use magic. This world’s necromancers might have been capable of more than I thought. “The bigger issue is that if left unchecked, their numbers will continue to grow indefinitely.”

In each city that fell, the inhabitants became soldiers, causing the enemy’s ranks to snowball. There had to eventually be a limit to what the necromancer could control, but with their numbers already so great, it was impossible to know what that limit might be.

“This is beyond what we can handle,” I continued. “No matter how many we take down, it’ll only be a drop in the bucket.”

“Umm, we’ve already sent word to Fiona, right?” Yifa asked shyly.

“Yes, of course,” Ren said, giving her an uncharacteristically friendly smile. “I sent messengers to the princess and imperial court on the very first day. You need not worry, miss.”

“Why does it seem like this elf is only nice to Yifa?” Mabel grumbled.

Ren returned to his usual composed look. “Those who can see elementals are all kin. I feel a sort of affinity for her as fellows living among foolish humans.”

“Umm, I don’t really...” A distressed look appeared on Yifa’s face.

Since the capital has been informed, I’d like to think they would prepare some sort of countermeasure, but there are too many cases where reports like that are ignored. Unless we figure out what the emperor’s goals are, we can’t count on any help.

“You all have to continue fighting,” said Ren. “You have no other option, as I’m sure you’re aware.”

Nobody responded. He was right—the situation was unchanged from a few days ago. So long as we couldn’t return to the capital, all we could do was keep up the potentially endless fight.

“You understand that too, don’t you, Hero?”

Amyu didn’t reply to Ren, and a brief silence drifted over us before she suddenly lifted her head with a start.

“Huh? What?”

“You’re the one being asked to fight, not anyone else,” Ren said rather snidely. But Amyu, having seemingly paid no attention at all, only tilted her head in confusion.

“He was saying we’re gonna have to move and fight some more somewhere else. Think you’ll be okay?”

“Oh, yeah, got it.” Amyu nodded meekly. “Given how things have turned out, I guess that’s just what we have to do.”

◆ ◆ ◆

Yellow-green lights danced next to the corpses.

“The fireflies here are pretty creepy, aren’t they?” Yuki poked her face out from above my head.

After the talks ended and everyone else settled down to rest, I made my way to the morgue outside town. There were two main reasons. The first was to examine the bodies, which I hadn’t been able to do during the earlier chaos. Though perhaps because it was late at night, I found myself strangely unmotivated.

“Why are they swarming around the corpses? Are they eating them or something?”

“They say that once fireflies become adults, they only drink water,” I answered quietly. “Maybe they came to drink the blood.”

“They’re creepy either way.”

“There were also fireflies flying around the corpses the morning after we dealt with that first group of undead. It’s possible they’re just common in this area.” What would otherwise be an elegant sight instead resembled hitodama in a place like this. On second thought, the temperature is starting to drop. They feel a little out of season, but maybe this species is different.

“Huh. Anyway, that aside,” Yuki said, changing the subject, “was there something you wanted to tell me?”

Yuki seemed to have guessed the second reason.

“Not really,” I replied awkwardly. “I just wanted to think to myself.”

“Oh? Well then, I’ll listen to you think out loud. Go on.”

I feel like Yuki’s been speaking out more these past few years. She’s lived for almost a century, so maybe she’s grown... But I think it’s more that I keep demonstrating my shortcomings, forcing her to step up.

“This has become more trouble than I expected. Where did I go wrong? I know you told me to back out, but looking at it logically, I don’t think there was any way for us to back out amicably at that point. I always meant to keep the imperial court at arm’s length, yet here I am getting tangled in their affairs. I guess ever since reincarnating, I’ve been mistaken on a fundamental level.” Sensing that Yuki was about to call me out, I decided to beat her to the punch. “I know what you wanna say—this is all my fault because I thought I could be cunning and make use of the Hero. You’re right, that was uncharacteristic of me. But back then...”

“No.” Yuki’s denial surprised me. “I don’t think that’s the cause. It’s something more basic. This is a matter of your resolve.”

“Huh? My resolve?” I asked, not expecting her answer.

“Yes.” Yuki nodded. “Why is it that you’re able to save those with whom you share a bond? Why do you wield power capable of destroying palaces, defeating spirits no human could hope to match, and even stopping natural disasters for the sake of others?”

“Well...”

That was the nature of humanity. Many might find it unexpected if a person known as a villain were to extend a hand to a child who had tripped, but few would consider it abnormal. Regardless of how often they showed it, all humans carried the instinct to help one another. I was simply one such person, as ordinary as any other. But it was clear that Yuki wasn’t looking for such a trite answer. I gave her the conclusion I had once arrived at within myself.

“Because it’s not a big deal for me. Destroying fortresses, defeating powerful enemies, and quelling disasters are all equivalent to helping a fallen child to me.”

Many would help up a fallen child, but far fewer would stick around and tend to the child’s wounds. There was a limit to how much effort one would expend for another. However, when it came to force, my limit was far higher than that of others. Because I was the strongest. It was what I had desired, and I had managed to reach that peak. That was all there was to it.

“That’s why you never should’ve tried to help people in this world,” Yuki said quietly. “You shouldn’t have gone further than helping up a child who tripped. What did you do when that boy with the evil eye died during that tournament, or when the Hero girl was taken to the palace? The power you wielded then was far beyond what ordinary people are capable of, was it not? Did you even for a moment consider abandoning them so that you could live this life in peace?”

I didn’t answer her.

“It might have been trivial to you, but to other people, it was power beyond comprehension. It was inevitable that you’d draw the attention of politicians the moment you wielded it. Even if you hadn’t gotten involved with the Hero specifically, I think it was only a matter of time.”

“Ordinary people are weak,” Yuki continued. “They submit helplessly in the face of violence or disaster. But you didn’t have the resolve to kneel like they do, Master Seika. You didn’t have the resolve to accept pain. I think your death in your previous life made you cautious, but it didn’t give you the resolve to be able to watch those close to you die and bear the torment of regret. From that moment, it was impossible for you to ever live a normal life,” Yuki said, her voice firm.

“If you made any mistake in this life, I believe it was that you never resolved to live as someone weak and powerless.”

I stood there frozen, my mouth hanging open. It was in part because I had never expected Yuki to go so far, but more than that, her lecture was so unshakably correct that I couldn’t muster a single word of rebuttal.

“I-I have nothing to say for myself... Looking back, you’re exactly right,” I groaned. My vague feeling that nothing was working had been neatly put into words, and suddenly it all clicked. Was I really so stupid that I needed Yuki to spell it out for me?

“I’m glad to see you’ve taken it to heart,” Yuki said, her tone composed. “I also feel relieved to have gotten that off my chest after so long.”

“If you’ve been thinking it for that long, you should’ve said something sooner.”

“To be honest, I was confused from the moment you summoned me, but I assumed you had some deeper goal and didn’t want to overstep. If I could turn back time now, I would’ve spoken up.”

“Wait a second. Didn’t you actually encourage me to help people back in Rakana, and then again in demon territory? I wasn’t convinced I should do it.”

“I didn’t think abandoning them would get you to change your way of life. While you might forsake those with only faint ties to you, if something like the Hero girl getting kidnapped were to happen again, you would wield your power without a second thought. Then abandoning them would’ve been pointless. It’s better not to have any regrets in that case. That’s why I made the suggestions I did. I wasn’t confident at first, but now I’m sure I made the right call.”

I silently looked up so I could see Yuki atop my head. She seemed to have put a lot of thought into my situation.

“When did you start worrying about such complicated things?” I said, petting her slender body with one finger. “You could barely even speak when you were first brought to my estate.”

“I’ve grown too. I listened alongside your disciples, and I can even recite Confucius by heart.”

“You’re right.” I broke out into a faint smile. That was before I ever reincarnated. “Then what should I do now?” I asked, only to receive a curt reply.

“I don’t understand complicated stuff.”

“Come on, that’s not true,” I said in exasperation.

“Anyway, seeing as living as a normal person is impossible, I don’t see any other option except just trying to come to an understanding with politicians.”

“Come to an understanding with them, huh?” I sighed. That didn’t seem easy. I wasn’t cut out for trying to understand those sorts of people. “If only force could solve everything.”

“The human world isn’t so simple.”

“If an ayakashi is saying that, then it’s really hopeless.”

“For now, why not just focus on what’s right in front of you? The horde of the dead is still something that can be dealt with by force.”

“That’s not so simple either.” I couldn’t help but grimace.

“You’re giving up in a contest of sorcery?” Yuki asked, sounding surprised.

“They’ve got the advantage,” I said as though making excuses for myself. “What am I supposed to do when they have so many corpses and won’t show themselves?”

“Can you not trace their location from the corpses?”

“Unfortunately, our opponent is skilled. Anything I might track them by has been erased to an extent that it’s frankly shocking how thorough they are. It gives off a sense of aesthetic obsession.”

There were occasionally sorcerers who relentlessly pursued a single spell to its absolute limit. They were highly capable, almost without exception, and sometimes reached realms that ordinary sorcerers couldn’t begin to comprehend.

Yuki groaned. “Hrmm. Then we’re stuck?”

“Not necessarily,” I said hesitantly. “There’s one thing that bothers me.”

“What’s that?”

“The range the necromancy can control the undead from is too wide. From the reports I’ve heard, it seems like the rebel army is active over a large area. Wherever the enemy is, it shouldn’t be possible to maintain the technique when the undead get too far away.”

In the first level of the world where magic and sorcery operated, distance didn’t matter. However, if the location was too far away, the connection would break, and the spell couldn’t be maintained. For that reason, there are very few spells capable of exerting influence over long distances. No matter the curse, it would weaken if the target crossed a single mountain, and it would almost entirely dissipate if they crossed the sea. The same applied to cursed objects.

The divine demons had magic items resembling clay tablets to communicate with the capitals of the other races, but given that they ordinarily crossed forests to communicate, the magic items likely required something costly to overcome the constraints of the distance.

“Hmm. So does that mean there are multiple enemies?”

“No.” I shook my head. “There’s no way there are multiple people this capable. There’s only one. I’m confident of that.”

“Then that means...”

“There’s some sort of trick to it. Something that allows them to do what should be impossible. If I can find out what that something is, I might be able to locate them.” That was our only hope.

“Do you have any idea what the trick might be?”

“I suspect they’re relaying the spell somehow. It would be logical for it to be through a corpse, but I shouldn’t assume that. At the very least, they wouldn’t use such a method to communicate with their collaborator.”

“Collaborator? Didn’t you say there was only one sorcerer?”

“One sorcerer, yes. But somebody’s backing them, I’m sure of it,” I said, frowning slightly. “Obsessives like this tend to be a little off. There were plenty of them in our previous world.”

“Yeah, a few people come to mind. Most of them were your friends.”

“Those types couldn’t pull something like this off on their own. Even just gathering information on the cities would be difficult.”

To carry out an invasion, one had to know the locations of the cities, their size, and any other relevant characteristics. Yet obtaining that knowledge required a certain level of social ability—listening to traveling merchants, seeking out and purchasing accurate maps, and so on. Power alone wasn’t enough. A degree of normalcy was necessary to carry out such a large undertaking.

“I don’t know when they died, but it’s far too convenient that this necromancer just happened to be able to turn a large group of slaves and religious believers into undead. There’s almost certainly someone backing them, and they’re likely still communicating to achieve their goals.”

I suspected that the communication was also utilizing some sort of method to overcome the distance. They wouldn’t use ordinary methods like horses or birds that could be tracked, given the mastermind was most likely someone of high status.

“At the very least, the collaborator is familiar with the empire’s geography and has enough power to prepare a large number of corpses. I suspect it’s someone in the capital.”

“A politician?”

“Who knows. It’s possible, since the second and third princes seem to be behind the initial revolts, but I feel like a merchant would have more to gain from this situation. No, I shouldn’t jump to conclusions. I shouldn’t speculate at all, actually. It could end up getting me into trouble.”

There were some things you were better off not knowing, and the inner workings of the current incident were likely among them.

“It’s frustrating, but I guess for now we just take down groups of undead one by one, like you said.” I stretched my back, sighing. Before I knew it, we had been out here for a while. I could investigate the corpses more tomorrow. It was time to go to sleep. Just as I was getting ready to head back—

“Master Seika.” Yuki suddenly called my name.

“Hmm?” I stopped in place.

“I know what I said earlier, but I don’t think you’ve done anything wrong in this life,” Yuki said gently. “A lot has happened, but I think you’re living in a way that’s true to yourself, Master Haruyoshi.”

Tengu’s Beard

A spell that severs objects with thread made of basalt fibers. When basalt, a type of volcanic rock, is melted and converted into fiber, the threads have a tensile strength four times that of steel wire, as well as many unique physical and chemical characteristics. Pele’s hair is a similar, naturally occurring formation caused by volcanic eruptions, and has been called “Tengu’s Beard” in Japan since ancient times.

Act 4

Using information given to us by one of Fiona’s spies, we moved on to the next city.

“Looks like we actually made it in time,” I muttered to myself in the plains outside the city.

This city was larger than the last one, and its walls looked sturdy enough that most magic wouldn’t make a dent. That was why...

“They brought some high-quality undead for this one.” The tip of a mounted undead’s lance was already closing in right before my eyes.

Phase of earth: Tengu’s Beard. A thread of volcanic rock fiber was unleashed at lightning speed. Cracking through the air, it sent the heads of four mounted undead flying. Their horses continued to charge without their riders, so I swapped places with a hitogata behind them to get out of their way. The horses continued for a while, but once the headless corpses started toppling off their backs, they eventually faltered and came to a confused halt in front of the city.

“Their horses are still alive? Undead can even ride horses, huh?” I muttered as I watched them.

“Umm, Master Seika,” Yuki whispered into my ear. “They’re firing arrows at you.” As Yuki had said, bow-wielding undead at the center of their formation had unleashed a barrage of arrows.

“I know,” I said, turning away from the horses.

Phase of yang: Magnetic Force Cloud. Hitogata I had floating in the air created a powerful magnetic field. The magnetic field acted upon the incoming arrowheads, sending a small bolt of lightning through them. The metal struck by the lightning gained magnetism, causing it to be repelled by Magnetic Force Cloud. All the arrows flying toward me veered away and embedded into the ground.

“Their aim is pretty good,” I said, looking at the arrows around me. “Longbows require a significant degree of skill. I’m surprised undead have the dexterity for them.” Onmyoudou sorcery had necromancy techniques, but none that allowed corpses to be manipulated with such precision. Just like the mage undead from the other day, they seemed to be able to make use of the skills they’d had while alive. They might have been our enemy, but I was impressed by the necromancer.

The undead fired another volley of arrows, but I didn’t need to watch out for them anymore. Keeping Magnetic Force Cloud active, I floated new hitogata into the air. Just as I had the remaining undead in my sight and was about to deal with them in one fell swoop, the ground behind me erupted with a roar.

“Wha—?!” Turning around, I saw a wyrm rising out of the earth with a cloud of dust. I was taken aback. The wyrm appeared to be alive—it wasn’t a corpse. There was no reason for a wyrm to appear here, and since I hadn’t felt any energy, it likely hadn’t been summoned either. That could only mean there was a tamer among the undead forces.

“I guess if they can tame living horses, monsters aren’t that strange,” I muttered in exasperation. “It’s just anything goes at this point.”

The wyrm opened its massive maw and came crashing down on me from above. It wasn’t worth teleporting, so I simply dodged out of the way on my feet. Failing to bite me, the wyrm slammed headfirst into the ground and buried itself back into the earth.

“It’s pretty slow.” Despite its size, it seemed weaker than the rabbitfolk tamer’s wyrm that had attacked the academy, let alone the wyrm I had encountered in Rakana.

I then started racing through the horde of undead. They naturally attempted to surround me, but I weaved through them using a combination of martial arts and short-range teleportation.

“I’m not sure how wyrms locate prey on the surface, but this should make it difficult.” At the very least, it shouldn’t have been able to pinpoint me in a crowd of similarly sized humans.

A moment later, the earth erupted again, and several undead were sent toppling to the ground. The wyrm had guessed wrong and held two undead in its mouth.

“There you are.” I sent a hitogata flying over the undead and attached it to the wyrm.

Phase of yang: Faint Lightning. A lightning bolt was unleashed from the hitogata, electrocuting the wyrm and causing its outstretched body to spasm wildly. After convulsing several times, it fell sideways to the ground. The undead beneath it were crushed with a wet squelch.

“Whoops. That was a mistake,” I grumbled after teleporting back out of the undead army and observing their formation. The massive wyrm had thrown their ranks into chaos, spreading them out and making it harder to use Needle Mountain. I had taken care of one obstacle, but now dealing with the numerous soldiers was more troublesome.

“I should’ve dealt with the wyrm the moment it appeared,” I sighed. “Oh well, too late now.” I turned my gaze to the undead who had strayed from the group, intent on dealing with them from the outside in, when I suddenly felt a source of energy from the center of the horde.

“What is that?” I reflexively turned back to the mass of undead. The flow of energy continued. There was some kind of magic being used, yet nothing was happening. Scouring the area, I found the source—a robed undead had stopped next to the wyrm’s corpse. Then the wyrm slowly lifted its head.

“Huh?” I went wide-eyed. I was certain I had killed it. Even if there were undead capable of using healing magic, they wouldn’t be able to bring it back to life. There was only one possibility. “Necromancy?”

The wyrm that should have been dead was now active once more. It writhed grotesquely across the surface, crushing the surrounding undead soldiers as it rushed at me with its mouth agape.

Clicking my tongue, I grimaced and made a hand sign with both hands, pouring cursed energy into the hitogata I had surrounding the undead forces. A moment later, all the undead collapsed as though their strings had been cut. The countless undead soldiers, the robed undead, and even the wyrm ceased moving, returning to being ordinary corpses. Once I confirmed they were neutralized, I released my hand sign and dispelled the barrier.

“I’d wanted to avoid doing that if possible,” I murmured with a sigh.

“Very impressive,” said Ren, who had been seated on the city’s walls the whole time, observing the fight. “I think you could handle this all on your own.” I could hear a hint of shock mixed into his voice.

◆ ◆ ◆

“The enemy sorcerer never ceases to amaze me.”

That night, I headed outside the city once again. There was nobody in the morgue—only a few fireflies floating about as usual.

“I can’t believe they have undead necromancers too.” Given that there had been other undead mages, it wasn’t particularly surprising, yet I couldn’t help but be astonished after seeing it in action. “That’s just not fair. If you make the undead use necromancy, then make those new undead also use necromancy, you can endlessly expand your forces. Obviously, there are limits to magical power, and finding skilled necromancer corpses isn’t a simple feat either, but still.”

Depending on what sort of trick the necromancer was using, I had the feeling those issues were surmountable. Particularly for a sorcerer so deeply invested in necromancy.

“But you beat the corpse that was controlling the other corpses, right? Did you find any clues?” Yuki asked, poking out from atop my head. “Since they’re absorbing the slain townsfolk, corpses that can control others must be an important asset for the enemy. It wouldn’t be strange if there was some trace tying them to the mastermind’s location.”

“Unfortunately, there wasn’t anything.” I shook my head. “There was a guild tag around the corpse’s neck. It seems like he was just an adventurer who was a necromancer. They must have absorbed him in some town and then deployed him as part of their forces, the same as the other undead.”

“You don’t think that might be camouflage?”

“I doubt it. His handling of the dead wyrm was too clumsy. Normally, they would go underground, but he made it crawl along the surface and crush his allies. I don’t feel like that was acting.”

“Hmm...”

“If they were an important asset, the enemy would use them more carefully. The slain townsfolk are being turned into undead in some other way. That said, any traces of the spell were erased by the barrier, so I can’t be sure,” I added.

“Umm, Master Seika,” Yuki said hesitantly. “Then why did you use a barrier? Shouldn’t you have tried to avoid erasing any clues?”

“Honestly, I just kinda reacted automatically, though I don’t think it was a bad decision in retrospect.”

I needed to neutralize the wyrm, and my ways of doing so without getting the nearby robed undead wrapped up in it were limited. In addition, if I had taken too long, the undead army would have spread out, and suppressing them would’ve taken even longer. There was no telling what they might do with that extra time. While I didn’t think I was beneath them in spellcasting ability, the enemy wasn’t someone to be underestimated.

“Even if I hadn’t used the barrier, I doubt I would’ve found any clues,” I told Yuki, who seemed to think I had made a mistake. “Our enemy isn’t so careless. Besides, I learned two things today. That’s not a terrible result.”

“What did you learn?”

“First, how they managed to capture a fortress city. I suspect they used a wyrm.”

Being undead, there was no way the rebels could have used someone on the inside to open the gates. I’d been wondering how they managed it until now. If they dug a tunnel from outside the city, then the city’s walls didn’t matter. Then they could send in hordes of undead. The wyrm could be a corpse, or it could be a living one controlled by a tamer like today. There were various methods they could use.

Given the forces they had sent to take this city, which was also well fortified, I was confident in that conclusion. They probably only had a limited number of wyrms, so the group I had defeated during the day was likely one of their main forces. We were lucky.

“That’s nice and all, but unless you’re a city about to be attacked, such knowledge doesn’t really help. What’s the other thing?”

“How the enemy necromancer is overcoming distance limitations. They’re probably having the corpses use necromancy themselves. I can’t think of any other explanation.” I had suspected as much, but after today, I was certain. If ordinary undead could use necromancy, then the method I envisioned should also be possible.

“Using corpses that control other corpses like we saw today?”

“No, it’s something different from ordinary undead. That method would result in the undead becoming increasingly harder to control the further down the chain you go. This is a more refined technique. I suspect the necromancer is creating undead in their image and using them as relays for the spell.”

“What do you mean by ‘in their image’?”

“Exactly that. A corpse that closely resembles them,” I explained. “The closer the likeness, the more efficiently the spell is conveyed.”

“Now that you mention it, I remember hearing you tell your disciples about that before.”

“Of course you do. It’s one of the foundations of sorcery. I explained it to them countless times. People tend to assume that when two things resemble each other, they must share the same qualities. But naturally, that isn’t actually the case. You can stuff someone’s hair into a straw effigy and hammer nails into it all you like—physically, it’s nothing more than straw. It can’t hurt the owner of the hair.”

“However,” I continued after a pause, “it’s a different story when belief comes into play. If you convince yourself that the straw effigy is the owner of the hair, then the act of hammering the nail becomes a curse and can reach the true owner. Even someone with no training in sorcery can occasionally curse another, because the essence of sorcery lies in the conscience. Magic is similar.”

Spells were a craft like any other. They had theory, methodology, and things that could be taught to others. If you followed the same steps, you could arrive at the same results. As with other crafts, where sometimes intuition or raw strength mattered more than theory, there were places where force of will meant everything.

Molding the shape of a tool used in a spell to resemble something is one way to strengthen the will behind it. That’s why an exorcist’s talismans are shaped like people. The reverse is also true—if you asked me to curse a human using a wooden carving of a bear, even I would find that quite difficult. My consciousness would be pulled toward the bear. To the extent that it would frankly be better to use nothing at all.

Yuki was silent, seemingly deep in thought.

“Is something wrong?” I asked, prompting Yuki to give a startled reply.

“Ah, no. Umm, so you’re saying the enemy sorcerer prepares corpses that look like them and transmits the spell through them?”

“That’s my hypothesis. By having the undead strongly believe they are the caster, you can make them use the same spell. I think, anyway. If you can place relay corpses at regular intervals, you can break free from the distance constraint.”

“Which means if we can find corpses that look like the enemy, we might be able to find a lead.”

“Yes,” I nodded. “Though since we don’t know what the enemy looks like, we have no way of doing so.”

“Right.”

Guessing the enemy’s trick didn’t actually help us make any progress.

“In fact, it might be faster for us to try to figure out how they’re communicating with their collaborator.”

“Oh, you did mention that. Do you have any ideas?”

“Not yet, unfortunately,” I said with a bitter expression. “If they’re using corpses to relay the spell, then it would be possible to use a bird corpse to deliver letters. That said, I don’t imagine this sort of sorcerer would use such a commonplace method. I have a feeling they’ve devised something faster and more covert.”

“Aren’t birds fast enough? What would be faster?”

“Shouting transmits a message at the speed of sound, and flags or smoke signals transmit it at the speed of light. Those are all short-range and obvious to everyone around, but they’re certainly fast.”

“Light and sound have speeds?”

“Yes. Sound is surprisingly slow, but light is incredibly fast.”

I had hoped talking it out would help me come up with a new idea, but nothing had come to mind. In fact, I was beginning to think it was impossible to narrow down the method at the moment.

“I guess there’s no way we could know for sure. In its most basic form, communication only needs ones and zeros.”

“Ones and zeros? Doesn’t that just mean you’re only saying yes or no?”

“Not at all. You should know how it works.”

“Huh?”

“Bagua. It uses lines representing yin or yang combined in groups of three to depict eight trigrams. Yin and yang are essentially zero and one. You get eight trigrams with three lines, but with six lines, you get sixty-four hexagrams—that’s sixty-four pieces of information. With that many, you could even map all the phonemes of Japanese onto them. You can build an entire system of communication with just zeros and ones.”

With seven lines, there would be 128 patterns. With eight, 256. Any amount of information could be transmitted. I didn’t know of any cases where such a code had actually been used, but in theory, it was entirely possible.

“Hmm... I don’t get complicated stuff,” Yuki said, boredom evident in her voice.

Even among my disciples, this sort of talk always caused a split between those who were interested and those who weren’t. I hadn’t really expected Yuki to understand anyway.

“Fortunately, we were able to protect the city this time,” I said with a sigh. “We’ll probably stay here for a few days. I guess I should use that time to come up with a better way to take down the undead armies next time.”

“Oh, so you’re not gonna use the barrier again?”

“Just to be safe. Even though the chances of finding any clues are slim, I wanna make sure we can examine any traces of the spell.” I turned around and started heading back to the city, before a thought suddenly occurred to me as I walked. “Actually, did you come up with anything?”

“Pardon?”

“You seemed like you were spacing out during my sorcery talk.”

Silence fell over us for a while, only the sound of my footsteps filling the air.

“No,” Yuki finally said. “What you were saying just made me realize something.”

“What’s that?”

“If humans see the original in a mere likeness, and you’re no exception,” Yuki continued hesitantly, “then maybe the reason you’re so invested in the Hero girl is because you see that disciple in her.”

I stopped in my tracks. Looking down at the long shadow stretching beneath me in the moonlight, I responded quietly. “Maybe so.”

◆ ◆ ◆

A few days later, we once again set off for a new city. Before me, an undead army was marching toward the city’s walls—it seemed we had made it in time once more.

“So, did you think of a good way to defeat them?” Yuki asked, poking her head out slightly.

“More or less.” Giving a vague answer, I made a hand sign with one hand.

Summoning: Zhen. A single ayakashi emerged from the spatial distortion. At a glance, it appeared to be an ordinary bird. It was around the size of a large bird of prey, with dark purple feathers and a red beak. Its long neck and graceful silhouette made it resemble a peacock from India.

“Go,” I ordered, pointing at the army of undead.

“Po po!” The zhen replied with an odd chirp that sounded like the beating of a hand drum. Spreading its wings, the ayakashi took to the sky, still looking every bit like an ordinary bird. Soon, it was directly above the undead.

With faint groans, the advancing undead began collapsing one after another. Every last one froze in place, went stiff, then hit the ground, with no exception. They showed no signs of recovery.

The zhen didn’t appear to have done anything. It had merely flown over them. Nonetheless, they continued to fall as though being trampled by invisible feet. The next moment, the vision of a shikigami that had strayed too close to the zhen went dark. Looking at it from another viewpoint, I saw its hitogata decay, drained of power, and fall from the sky.

“Oh, zhen poison works on the dead?” Yuki said in surprise. “Your poisonous gas didn’t.”

“Poisons made from an ayakashi’s power work differently.”

Zhen were ayakashi that held deadly poison within their bodies. The targets of its poison weren’t limited to humans or animals—a zhen simply flying over a field caused crops to wither, one perching on a tree made its branches decay, and even stone cracked and crumbled beneath their touch. That all sounded more like a curse, but zhen were said to be a poisonous ayakashi because a potent toxin could be extracted from their feathers by soaking them in liquor. It was so deadly that there were legends that a Chinese emperor, fearing assassination, had ordered any mountain where zhen were sighted to be burned down.

They seemed to be able to control the strength of their poison to some degree. I suspected that even what I was witnessing now wasn’t its full strength.

“Looks like it’s over.” The final undead fell, and the zhen returned triumphantly, its mission complete.

“Po po! Po po!”

“Good work. Here.” I tossed it some breadcrumbs, and the zhen eagerly began eating. It looked more like a chicken than an ayakashi.

Zhen were said to eat venomous snakes, much like peacocks, but in truth, they would eat just about anything. Insects, fruits, rice, bread—they weren’t picky. They were unusual among ayakashi in that they weren’t fond of alcohol, perhaps because their poison would leach out, but that just made them even more similar to birds. When it finished eating, the satisfied zhen returned to the other plane.

After that, I send a crow shikigami out to observe the corpses.

“Good. It worked as planned.”

Despite the slight inflammation of the skin, there was nothing that would impede examination. Even the inflammation would likely subside a bit if the poison were removed. Zhen poison lingered in corpses, so I would have to burn the bodies later to prevent it from spreading. Just as I was planning out my next move—

“Hmm?” Through the crow’s vision, I saw a lone figure standing at the center of the collapsed undead.

The figure was wearing high-quality armor and held a sword. It was quite well-equipped relative to the other undead. I couldn’t see its face due to its helmet, but from the shape of its armor, it appeared to be a woman.

I frowned. There hadn’t been anything like it there before. Could there have been an undead capable of curing the poison with light magic? I had the crow shikigami descend to confirm the situation.

The armored knight was crouched low, picking something up from a corpse. As the crow descended, I was able to make out that it was a hatchet the undead had presumably been using as a weapon.

Suddenly, the knight lifted her gaze, staring straight up at the crow. Through the shikigami, her eyes met mine. A moment later, she hurled the hatchet at the crow. Just as the blade approached, its vision went dark.

The shikigami fell. Startled, I pulled my consciousness back to my own vision. The knight in the distance was looking at me. Not at the fallen shikigami—at me, the sorcerer who had been controlling it.

“This one seems like a problem,” I groaned, floating a hitogata in the air.

Just as I made a hand sign to summon an ayakashi, I thought the knight vanished, only for her to reappear right before me, sword raised. Her steel greatsword swung down and was caught by a floating bronze sword. A loud clang echoed through the air.

I had just barely managed to summon Hihirukiri in time, but I was still in a bad spot. The knight’s strength was immense, and Hihirukiri was being forced back, the eye on its hilt squirming around anxiously. The fact that the knight’s sword could clash with Hihirukiri at all meant it was a fine blade. A dull blade would have split the moment they met.

In the brief pause born from the deadlock between the ayakashi and the knight, I collected my thoughts. I had felt a surge of energy the moment the knight had appeared. It was teleportation magic. That meant she was a magic swordsman capable of using dark element spells.

“What a headache,” I muttered, settling on a course of action.

Phase of wood: Binding Vines. Thick vines emerged at the knight’s feet. They wrapped around her armor, nearly restraining her, before I felt another current of energy. Flames erupted around her, engulfing the vines and burning them away.

“Fire magic too, huh?” Though I hadn’t expected her response, unfortunately for her, it was a bad move.

Phase of wood: Binding Vines. Three times as many vines burst from the earth. Even if she relied on her armor’s fireproofing and tried to burn them again, eventually her body would be unable to withstand the heat it conducted. She couldn’t use the same trick over and over.

“Tch.” I clicked my tongue. The knight disappeared with another flow of energy. “I get it.” She had teleported. I immediately grabbed hold of Hihirukiri’s hilt, just as its opponent’s sword vanished and it lurched forward, then swung it behind me with all my might.

It repelled the knight’s sword after she had teleported behind me. I could sense her shock, but all I could do was frown. Her blow was heavy. Even with my qigong-enhanced strength and Hihirukiri’s supernatural power, it still stung. Nevertheless, I repelled it. All was according to plan.

The knight had had no choice but to escape the situation where Hihirukiri had caught her blade, leaving me free to cast spells, and teleporting had been her only way of doing so. The spot that would catch me most off guard was directly behind, outside my line of sight. That was exactly what made it so predictable.

I stepped toward the knight, whose stance had now faltered. Getting in even closer than sword range, I stuck a hitogata on her armor.

Phase of yang: Discharge. The knight was immediately blown upward and back. Discharge wasn’t a particularly lethal spell, but it was difficult to deal with on one’s first encounter. Most people wouldn’t even know what had occurred. Because she had been blown into the air, she couldn’t simply plant her sword in the ground to halt her momentum. It would also be difficult for her to designate a teleportation destination while flying at high speeds, but even if she did try a desperate teleportation, I had one more trick up my sleeve.

Phase of yang, wood, and fire: Burning Cascade. Massive flames surged toward the knight. The waves of burning oil morphed into a sea of fire, leaving her with nowhere to teleport to.

Just as I thought it was over, energy spouted from the knight’s spellblade, and a huge block of ice dropped out of nowhere to block the oncoming wave.

“Wha—”

The moment the fire touched the ice, it began to disappear. The oil cooled, falling below the temperature necessary to continue burning. Then the knight spun around and unleashed a powerful wind spell in the opposite direction. She used the recoil to halt herself in midair, glaring at me from behind the visor of her helmet.

“That’s not good.” I immediately hurled Hihirukiri behind me, returning it to the other plane. If it couldn’t compete with her on its own, it was nothing but a hindrance to me.

The knight disappeared with another surge of energy, reappearing right before my eyes a moment later. She gripped her sword tightly, then released a thrust swift enough to tear open space itself. It struck true, aiming to pierce right through my heart and end my life in an instant—but what the knight’s blade impaled was nothing more than a single hitogata.

“You’re not the only one who can teleport.” Swapping places with a shikigami behind me, I put space between myself and the knight, already making a hand sign. I channeled cursed energy into a hitogata I had left at the knight’s feet.

Phase of metal: Needle Mountain. A vast field of dark gray spikes erupted from the ground around the knight. It was another wide-range attack that left her no room to evade by teleporting. However, I had no illusions that it would be enough to finish her off.

Just as I expected, she had already managed to escape the needles. She kicked off the ground, then leaped off the spikes extending toward her, using them to vault into the air. But that was exactly what I was waiting for.

Phase of earth: Tengu’s Beard. A thread made of volcanic rock fiber swung at her like a lightning-fast whip. I was aiming for her legs. Tengu’s Beard closed in on her, severing the tips of the spikes. She wouldn’t have any way to evade while in the air.

The spikes to her left and right were sliced by the thread just as I heard the sound of something being cut. Her sword still raised, she landed on the flat top of a severed spike.

I was completely astonished. She had cut right through the thread of Tengu’s Beard with an upward swing. The thread was so thin it was barely visible. In addition, it was extremely tough, moving at high speeds, and it was her first time encountering it. Unfortunately, I didn’t have time to be impressed. I felt energy begin to swirl around her sword as she held it in the air.

She swung her spellblade down as I finished arranging hitogata around myself. A moment later, red-hot stones began raining down, pelting the earth. Though any that would have struck me were extinguished by my barrier, I could still feel them heating the surrounding air.

I felt a stinging on my cheek. I touched my face with my finger and found blood trickling down. It seemed that a small fragment of stone had nicked my cheek. The magic meteorites ended right as I finished healing myself with a substitution.

The knight was standing in the same spot. She must have been exhausted, as her shoulders were heaving as though she were breathing heavily. There was blood dripping down her left gauntlet, likely from getting grazed by Tengu’s Beard when she cut it. Then I saw the faint glow of light magic around her left arm. I knew what that meant.

“She can use healing magic too?” The light faded, and the knight opened and closed her fist as if checking the feeling. It appeared to have been fully restored. She’s quite the dangerous opponent, I thought to myself with a grimace.

She was using high-level magic of all six elements without any incantations. In addition, she had expert swordsmanship, immense strength, and a good sense for battle. She would’ve been a good match even for Kuroshishi-douji.

I had been attempting to restrain her from the start, but it was proving difficult. She could escape my normal methods by teleporting, and she could heal off any damage I dealt to her that didn’t result in instant death. In addition, there were too many eyes around to use any conspicuous ayakashi.

Sighing, I decided to change it up. There was one thing I had become certain of during our battle. If restraining her was too difficult, attempting a dialogue wasn’t a bad idea.

“It doesn’t look like you’re a corpse,” I said with a faint grin. There was no way she was undead, and I doubted she was a necromancer either. I silently waited for a response as she caught her breath.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” she shouted back angrily. Her voice was high-pitched, which wasn’t surprising as I had suspected she was a woman, but there was still something unexpected about it. Despite her strength, she lacked the dignity of someone with power. She sounded more like a rambunctious child.

“Huh? What do you mean?” I wasn’t sure how to reply to her question.

“I’m asking what you’re doing! Have you become an enemy?! What happened to him?!”

“I’m sorry, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I was starting to get a bad feeling. Many beings who left the realm of human strength were left with shattered minds. Given how incoherent her words were, the knight might well have been one of them. “I’m doing exactly what it looks like. Helping the empire by stopping the undead from attacking a city.”

“Huh? Helping the empire? You have some nerve spouting that nonsense!” the knight shouted angrily. “You and the Hero need to stay out of this!”

My eyes went wide with shock. “How do you know that?” I had been certain she was working for the necromancer, but few people knew the Hero had been dispatched. That meant she had to be working for either someone in the imperial court or the emperor himself. No, I can’t disregard the possibility that she’s with the necromancer and just got the information from the necromancer’s collaborator.

At a loss, I decided to simply ask. “Who are you?”

“You’re more rude than I thought! I’m—”

Suddenly, blades of fire, wind, ice, and stone all assailed the knight at once.

“Wah!” Caught completely unaware, she was blown off the spike she had been standing on. However, she didn’t take as much damage as I expected. Judging from the flow of energy, her armor appeared to be a magic item that protected her from magic to some degree.

“Ah ha ha! I’ll back you up, foolish human!” Ren shouted from outside the field of spikes. Uncharacteristically flustered, he pulled back the blades of magic. “It would seem the War Princess is a handful even for you.”

“War Princess...” As I contemplated his words, he directed his blades of magic at the knight once more.

Blown back by the first barrage, she was hanging on the edge of a particularly tall spike, dangling over the thorny abyss below. When she caught sight of the colossal spell bearing down upon her and the elf directing it, she cried out in equal parts bewilderment and shock.

Ren’s magic bore down on her, completely demolishing any spikes in its path. It was quite strong, yet its strength significantly decayed just before it reached the knight. A column of light that seemed to be a magic-nullifying barrier glowed around her, but it was beginning to erode. Her barrier couldn’t withstand Ren’s magic.

“Argh!” With a frustrated cry, the knight disappeared. She had teleported out of the field of spikes to the side opposite Ren.

“I’m gonna report you guys!” Leaving us with those words, she disappeared once again.

This time, she didn’t reappear. Even through the vision of the crows I had flying overhead, I couldn’t find where she had gone. She had likely fled to the forest I could see far in the distance. I let out a small sigh.

“That was a close call, foolish human.” I turned around and saw Ren jogging over to me. He must not have had much stamina, because he was already sweating.

“Was that the War Princess?” I asked.

“I would think so,” Ren said with a composed smile, wiping the sweat off his brow. “It’s my first time seeing her as well, of course, but I can’t imagine such a powerful female knight would be anyone else.”

“Yeah, I guess not.”

The rumors about the War Princess arriving before the rebel army and seizing cities by herself with unparalleled strength had completely slipped my mind. I had thought she might be the rebel leader at first, but that didn’t appear to be the case, at least. However, we didn’t know anything about her, much less whose pawn she was.

I let out another sigh. One more headache for the collection.

Chapter 2

Act 1

I was walking through the nearly empty dawn streets of the city, on my way to resume the investigation of the corpses that I hadn’t finished the day before. It was so early that the city gates hadn’t opened yet, so I swapped places with a shikigami outside the city once I reached the wall.

“Huh?” A lone figure stood in the middle of the field where the corpses lay. “Amyu?”

My voice must have reached her, as Amyu raised her head and looked at me. “Oh, Seika.”

“What are you doing so early in the morning?”

“Can’t you tell? Digging a hole,” she said, returning her eyes to the ground and stabbing her shovel into the earth. “We need to bury these people.” Amyu glanced at the rows of corpses. Purged of the zhen’s poison, the bodies of the formerly undead soldiers barely had a scratch on them, with looks of peaceful repose on their faces. How long had she been at it? A wide stretch of earth had already been dug up at Amyu’s feet.

“We don’t really have to,” I said hesitantly. We could just cremate them. That was what we had done in all the other cities until now.

“Maybe, but there’s no harm in it, is there? The ground here is all loose from your fight with the War Princess or whoever.” She was digging in the spot where the War Princess had called down her meteorites. The stones had been dispelled, but the ravaged earth remained. “I figured it was the perfect spot. They were already killed and turned into undead. Burning them after they die a second time just feels cruel.”

The empire had a tradition of burying its dead. It was for religious regions, but it wasn’t because they believed in life after death, like Christianity or Islam. Rather, it seemed to be a simple worldview rooted in nature—the idea that when one died, they returned to the earth had been passed down for generations. Cremation wasn’t unheard of, but it was seen as a sad way to be put to rest.

“I’m not asking you to help or anything. I’m doing this on my own,” Amyu said, continuing to shovel.

I watched her dig in silence for a while before walking up to the edge of the pit, pulling a shovel out of the other plane, and wordlessly driving it into the ground. Amyu said nothing as she watched me begin to dig. Only the sound of us digging a grave filled the air.

“How’d you get out of the city? The gate wasn’t open,” I asked, still working.

“There was a big tree, so I used it to jump up on the wall,” Amyu answered without looking back.

“Ha ha. Nice.” I couldn’t help but smile. That sounded like something she would do.

“Hey.” After a while, Amyu was the one to break the silence.

“Hmm?”

“Undead are corpses with the souls of dead people put in them, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Then do you think the people being controlled have thoughts and feelings too? I...” Amyu paused for a moment. “I cut some of them down too. At the time, I was just thinking that they couldn’t be allowed to attack the city, but maybe the people I cut down were thinking, ‘Why do we have to suffer like this?’ Maybe they were scared or in pain.” Her hands had stopped moving. “Do you know, Seika?” she asked without meeting my eyes.

I was lost for words for a moment, but I still answered. “This is a common misconception, but a soul is not the same as a dead person’s mind. The mind doesn’t actually exist—it’s a structure. Various complex phenomena that occur in someone’s brain. That entire structure is what makes up someone’s mind.”

If you sealed a chick inside a glass jar and shook it violently, nothing would come out. However, something important would undeniably be lost from the mangled chick. That something was the structure—the mind—and the essence of life itself.

“A soul is nothing more than the remnants left when that structure is etched into the world. Sometimes they may possess consciousness close to the original person’s, but it still can’t be called the same person. When forced into a corpse, it changes even more. There are different types of necromancer, but regardless of whatever means are used to bring back the dead, they’ll never behave the same as when they were living. So,” I said, hesitating just slightly, “the people you cut down didn’t suffer.”

That was a lie. I didn’t know the truth. Unless I became undead myself, there was no way to be certain. But it was still something I needed to say, for the sake of the person who was alive now.

“Hmm... That’s good.” Amyu gave a short reply, then began digging again. “Maybe I was being naive. This is what war is like, huh?”

I listened carefully as Amyu’s words came out just a few at a time.

“I had no idea just how many people suffered because of the people behind schemes like this. I thought maybe I could help them, but this was all your doing, wasn’t it?” Amyu said, pointing at the corpses. “If someone capable of all the things you’re capable of says it’s hopeless, then what can someone who’s just a little good at magic and swordplay do? I think I just got carried away at being called the Hero and getting summoned to the imperial palace.”

Amyu kept digging into the earth with strong, steady strokes. Her expression looked the same as always, but there was a hint of dejection about her. “You were right. I never should’ve gotten involved.”

“That’s not true,” I said before I realized it. “That girl you saved from the collapsed building would’ve died if you’d never gotten involved.”

“Hey, Seika.” Amyu thrust her shovel into the ground, then turned to face me. “Can you revive the dead?” Her bright green eyes pierced straight through me.

“Of course not,” I said, looking away reflexively.

“When we were escaping the imperial palace, I overheard a bit of your conversation with Fiona after I got in the carriage.” Amyu’s eyes were still locked on me. “I didn’t really understand it at the time, so I thought maybe I was wrong, but then the emperor said there were no casualties during our audience. That’s impossible, isn’t it? There were guards posted on the walls. There’s no way nobody died during all that destruction. I know you restored everything you destroyed, but did you really only rebuild the physical objects? You could bring everyone who died in this fight back to life if you wanted to, couldn’t you?”

After a moment of silence, I shook my head. “No. And that’s the truth.”

The dead couldn’t be brought back to life. The only way to revive someone who had died was to make it so their death had never occurred in the first place. Powerful sorcery without so much as a name that rewrote the record of the world. That was what I was capable of. However, the more time that passed from their death, the more that needed to be rewritten, dramatically increasing the difficulty. Even I was likely only capable of rewinding a single day at most.

Not only was I not able to bring back the countless innocent lives lost to war, but I hadn’t even been able to revive my wife, who had died of illness. And even if it were possible, I probably wouldn’t.

“Right. Of course.”

“If you could do it, would you?” I asked Amyu. “If you could freely revive the dead, would you bring back everyone who died in this conflict? Would you revive everyone who meets a tragic death in the future?”

Amyu remained silent for a while, then finally shook her head. “After thinking about it for a bit, probably not.”

“Why?”

“This might sound bad, but I don’t have a reason to go that far. And I couldn’t take responsibility for it. If I brought a lot of people back to life, the empire would probably change in a major way. It’d be fine if things changed for the better, but what if some things got worse instead? I wouldn’t know what to do then, and that scares me,” she said haltingly.

“I think people like Fiona, the emperor, and the first prince are more suited to that stuff. People who have the resolve and talent to change the world and reshape the lives of many people. I get the feeling that even if someone had the ability, if they didn’t have the resolve and panicked once things changed, acting on their own would end poorly.” Amyu looked at me as she went on. “When the stampede broke out in Rakana, you tried to get us to escape alone, didn’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“At the time, I thought you were really coldhearted, but now I kinda get what you were thinking. Things could’ve gotten bad. After Rakana, people might have started saying, ‘Next, you have to save this city, or that country, or stop a war.’ Telling you to take responsibility for the fate of others. I’m sorry for forcing that resolve on you.”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s not a big deal. I don’t regret saving the city.”

“Really? Still, if I were as strong as you, I think I’d only help the people around me. Maybe that makes me a failure as the Hero who’s supposed to save humanity,” Amyu added quietly.

“No,” I said with a slight smile, “that’s who you are.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? Are you calling me heartless?”

“Knowing your limits isn’t the same as being heartless.”

“I know my limits?”

“Maybe not up until this point, but I think you do now.”

“Are we just insulting me now?”

“That’s not it. I just mean you know how the world works now, but you still choose to protect those close to you. That’s who you are as a person.” Amyu wasn’t stupid. She was a little naive, sure, but I had always believed that she would eventually realize that there was more to the world than ideals and pretty words. And if that feeling still remained in her even now that she understood, then that was simply who she was.

“What the heck...” Amyu faced away, thrusting her shovel back into the soil. “Doesn’t the same go for you?”

◆ ◆ ◆

“The hole’s pretty big now.”

A few hours after I started digging with Amyu, the hole had widened significantly. The traces of the knight’s meteorites from the previous day had all but disappeared as our excavation progressed. Mounds of earth were piled along the edge.

I was stronger than most people thanks to my qigong, but even still, the two of us wouldn’t have made nearly as much progress without Amyu’s endless stamina.

“I think we’ll be able to fit them all!” Amyu said, satisfied.

“Just barely,” I said with a slightly sullen look. “But it’s not anywhere near deep enough. For a proper burial, it needs to be three—no, four times deeper.”

“Th-That’s not happening!” Amyu collapsed onto her back, placing her hand over her forehead and looking up at the sky. “Digging holes isn’t to be taken lightly.”

“That’s because it’s a grave for a couple thousand people. Frankly, it’s incredible we managed all this with just two people,” I said with a smile. “I’ll handle the rest.”

“Huh?”

“Just making it deeper won’t be too hard now that we have the hole. Is something wrong?”

Still on her back, Amyu looked at me with an indescribable, awkward expression. “There you go again, finishing stuff I start on my own. I’m sure you could’ve easily dug this hole by yourself the entire time, couldn’t you?”

“Digging a hole from scratch is actually pretty hard, even for me,” I answered with a slight smile. “You have to come up with a bunch of tricks. It’s only easy now because we did so much by hand.”

“Don’t try to make me feel better.”

“I’m serious.”

Amyu let out an exaggerated sigh. “I really can’t do anything on my own, can I? I should’ve known I’m not strong enough to handle everything.”

“You’re sounding pretty down in the dumps now. You were so full of energy back in the capital.”

“After the emperor said all that stuff to me, I just felt like I had to do my best for this country. Turning him down never even crossed my mind. Honestly, I might’ve still come here even if I’d been alone.”

Looking back, the emperor had certainly been a skilled conversationalist. I had been extremely cautious, and even then, I had still gotten lost in his words without even realizing it. On top of that, the emperor had been speaking directly to Amyu for most of it. Combined with the mood in the audience chamber, it was no wonder she had gotten swept away.

“Well, nothing to be done about it now.” I extended a hand to Amyu, who was still on the ground. “Let’s just focus on the future. Get out of the way. I’m gonna do something pretty massive.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Just as Amyu took my hand and stood up—

“Whoa, what’s this?” A boy’s voice echoed through the air. The holy knight Ren was looking down at our hole, clearly distraught. “What sort of nonsense are you foolish humans up to?”

“It’s not nonsense,” Amyu said, glaring at the elf. “We’re just burying these people. Is that a problem?”

“I beg your pardon? Burying them?” Ren said as though genuinely shocked, shaking his head. “While I knew humans were foolish, I didn’t expect it to be this bad.” He shot a scornful look at Amyu. “I can’t allow this.”

“Excuse me?” Amyu snapped back indignantly. “And why do I have to take that from you?”

“Anyone else would tell you the same. Do you have any idea how many issues burying this many corpses—corpses that used to be undead, mind you—could cause?”

“Like what?”

“Contamination of the land, outbreak of disease—it’s even possible that the necromancer left something hidden in the bodies. Burying them as they are is far too dangerous.”

“I can deal with all of that,” I interjected. “Contamination and disease aren’t an issue if you bury them deep enough. Even if something is hidden in the bodies, I can erase it.”

“Why put forth all that effort? Would burning them not be faster?” Ren asked with a half smile. “Of all you foolish humans, I had thought you were one of the more sensible ones, Seika Lamprogue.”

“Mind your own business. Why do you get to tell us what to do with these people?” Amyu demanded.

“Can you take responsibility?” Ren asked, his smile gone.

“Huh?” Confusion appeared on Amyu’s face.

“I’m asking if you’re prepared to take responsibility for your actions should burying these people cause problems,” Ren continued, fully serious. “What if they’re exposed by a flood, or dug up by wild animals, and disease breaks out as a result? Or if some of the necromancer’s magic couldn’t be erased and remained? What would you do then?”

“Th-That’s why we’re making sure that won’t happen!”

“I’m not asking about what countermeasures you’re taking in advance. I want to know how you will respond if something does happen. You’ll be leaving in a few days, so what happens to this city afterward is no concern of yours. However, there are foolish humans who do have to continue living here. If your selfish actions cause this city’s residents harm, how will you make things right?”

Amyu couldn’t answer. Of course she couldn’t. She couldn’t take responsibility for all these people—she had said so herself only moments ago.

“The princess would take responsibility,” said Ren. “With her skill and resources, the princess can take responsibility for the decisions she makes. That is what sets her apart from you lot. As the one entrusted by her to oversee this place, it’s my duty to use my judgment and do everything in my power to prevent such a situation from arising. Do you understand the difference in our positions now, Hero Amyu? I don’t know if burial is some sort of tradition in this country, but the world isn’t so lenient that you can act on your own because of foolish human sentimentality.”

Ren drew his magic stone shortsword from its scabbard, then looked down at the mass of corpses. “Besides,” he said, a faint smirk crossing his face as he raised the rainbow-colored sword straight up. A large flow of energy formed around the sword, and flames shot into the sky. What appeared to be a colossal blade of fire erupted from its tip. “Being reduced to ash is a fitting end for foolish humans who allowed themselves to die pathetically and be used as puppets.”

He swung the blade of fire at the corpses.

“Don’t you dare!”

Just before they were incinerated, the tip of Amyu’s spellblade parried the elf’s sword, redirecting it toward the sky. There had been a considerable amount of distance between them, yet the Hero had cleared it in an instant.

“Ah ha ha!” Erasing the flames, Ren leaped back in retreat with a delighted smile on his face. “You want to fight, Hero? Very well,” he said, raising his magic stone sword, “I was just thinking I could use some exercise.” Ren thrust his blade into the ground, and large rocks emerged from the earth, launching the Hero into the air.

“Hey, what are you—”

“Master Seika.” Just as I was about to intervene, Yuki whispered into my ear, stopping me in my tracks. “Let’s just watch.”

“Huh?”

“That girl started this. She should handle it herself.”

After a moment of hesitation, I stuffed my hitogata back into my pocket. “I’ll watch until her substitution is broken. Then I’m stopping them.”

Amyu landed in a roll, and countless icicles the size of an arm came flying at her. Swatting them away, she darted to safety behind the upturned earth as they bore down on her like a storm.

“What’s your problem?!”

“Is this all the Hero’s power amounts to?!” The elf raised his sword into the air once more, this time creating a mass of rocks in the sky. “The War Princess was far stronger!”

Driven out of cover by the raining stones, Amyu rolled away from the mound of earth. She deflected the following assault of wind magic with her spellblade, which was clad in a pale light. It wasn’t as powerful as a high-level barrier spell, but it seemed to be capable of nullifying magic. However...

“Agh!”

It was nowhere near enough to withstand Ren’s onslaught. By the time she took a third hit, her poise had completely crumbled.

“How do you intend to protect humanity like that?!” Ren launched more wind magic.

Amyu let her collapsing stance carry her downward, dodging the attacks by dropping flat to the ground.

“I don’t know!” Instantly standing back up, Amyu unleashed fire and wind magic at Ren. He didn’t even attempt to dodge, and his figure disappeared in the flames. Amyu continued firing off spells, over and over. “You expect me to protect this huge country all by myself?! I’m not the protagonist of some fairy tale! Don’t push that role onto me!”

The magic came to a stop. Amyu’s shoulders were heaving with exhaustion.

Ren sighed. “It’s like you’re a child.” He stood in the exact same spot, completely unharmed. A faint light softly flickered around him. It resembled the barrier the War Princess had used, but judging from the flow of power, it was far more refined.

“Your swordplay and martial arts skills are decent enough, I suppose, but your magic is nowhere near adequate. Not that it would ever reach me, regardless of how clever you were with it.”

Though human magic and elven elemental magic were different, I could tell just by watching the flow of power that, at least in terms of magical prowess, Ren was stronger than the female knight. Even now, he was likely still holding back. He might have been the most skilled mage I had met in this world.

“If you wish to live as a weak member of the masses, then suit yourself,” Ren said condescendingly as he toyed with his sword. “But if you do, you should know your place.” The holy knight pointed his sword at Amyu, energy swirling around him.

A sparkling ray of light burst from his shortsword. Moving almost on instinct, Amyu ducked low, barely avoiding it. A few strands of her red hair moved too slowly and were scattered by the beam.

Ren swung his sword, and Amyu jumped back to avoid the horizontal slash of light. The ground took the hit instead, a red-hot line melted into its surface. Moving like an acrobat, Amyu dodged the horizontal and vertical blades of light being hurled at her in quick succession. Though she hadn’t been hit, she was entirely on the defensive and hadn’t been able to close the distance.

“What the heck is this magic?!”

“A technique utilizing light elementals, foolish human.” Ren continued swinging his sword, a faint smile on his face. “Fear not, I’ll put you back together if you lose a limb. Of course, the same can’t be said if you lose your head.”

I moved to grab the hitogata in my pocket, then stopped. Her substitution still hadn’t broken. She had made her own decision.

“Argh!” Amyu released a flurry of stone projectiles. They vanished the moment they struck Ren’s barrier, but for a moment, they served as a shield from the blades of light. Using the rocks she had fired as cover, she dashed straight at Ren.

A sweeping beam of light skimmed across the ground, and she jumped over it at the last second. Gripping her sword tightly, she unleashed a sharp thrust.

It was a breathtaking sequence of events. No ordinary person could have moved like that in the face of deadly, unfamiliar magic. She had undeniable talent as a warrior. It was a blow that seemed certain to end the fight—but it never reached the young holy knight.

The instant her thrust pierced through the space where Ren had been, his figure vanished along with the flow of power.

“Naturally, I can teleport as well.” The voice came from behind Amyu. The holy knight had his sword pointed at her, energy surging around it. “It’s your loss.”

A shimmering ray of light shot at Amyu.

However, she had already turned around, and a splashing wall of water shot up in front of her a moment later.

Ren’s eyes went wide. It was the low-level water spell, Aqua Wall. With a faint sizzle, the ray of light passed through the water, striking Amyu directly. But it didn’t pierce her—it was as though the spell was just ordinary light.

Breaking through the wall of water, Amyu stepped forward. Then, with a flash, she deflected Ren’s sword, slipping past his side.

“Wha—?! Damn it!” Despite the heavy blow, Ren held on to his sword. He quickly turned to face Amyu in a panic, but a moment later, his rainbow-colored blade shattered with a fragile, crystalline sound. “A-Ahh!” Looking at his broken sword, Ren cried out like it was the end of the world. “H-H-How could you?!”

“Would you shut up already?!” Amyu shouted, pointing her spellblade at Ren. “I get it! I’ll take responsibility! If something happens here, just call me! I’ll even do manual labor or whatever!” She glared at Ren, frustration all over her face. Yet there was something about her tone that sounded as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

Ren, on the other hand, sniffled as he picked up the shattered fragments of the magic stone blade. “D-Do you have any idea how valuable this is?!”

“I don’t care! You started this fight!” Amyu strode right up to the young elf and smacked him on the head. Ren looked like he was about to cry.

“Amyu...”

“Oh, Seika. What’s up? I feel like it’s been ages since I won a fight! I’m finally living up to the title of Hero, huh?” Amyu turned to face me with a smile as I approached, dumbfounded. Her expression was bright and cheerful. She seemed to be in an excellent mood after all that.

“Why did you use Aqua Wall?”

“Huh? Oh, that. Uh, well, he said that magic used light elementals, right? It looked like light too, so I figured it had to just be normal light,” Amyu said, seemingly unsure how to explain herself. “Water gets darker the deeper it goes, and if there are droplets or bubbles, it’s hard to see through them. That means light isn’t reaching through. So I just thought maybe water could block it.”

Amyu looked down at her clothes, her expression turning faintly regretful. “Looks like I still got a little burned, though. If I’d used an earth wall, I probably could’ve blocked it completely, but then I would’ve had to circle around to close the distance, so I think I made the right call.”

“So you didn’t know the theory behind that spell or how to defend against it?”

“Of course not.” Amyu glanced away for a moment before continuing. “It’s just... You use spells that don’t make any sense, but you’re always thinking when you do, right? So I figured I should use my head a little too.”

“I see.”

Strong, wise, and brave. Even if being the Hero wasn’t about birth, but rather about having the qualities society believed the Hero should possess, I couldn’t help but feel she exemplified them all.

“Anyway.” Amyu glared at Ren, who was kneeling on the ground. “I won, so we’re gonna bury these people. Got that, shorty?!”

“What is wrong with you people...” Ren said unhappily. “Please don’t cause any headaches for the princess.”

“We won’t,” I answered for Amyu. “I’ll make sure whatever you fear doesn’t come to pass. I’ll explain everything to her too. I’m sure she’ll understand.”

“What a foolish human... Even after I told you to stop...” Ren mumbled, discontent, still on his knees.

“You also went and ruined the hole we worked so hard to dig,” Amyu said angrily. “How about you take some responsibility and dig it back up?”

“What?! Why should I?! I can’t anyway, now that my precious sword is broken...”

“You have hands, don’t you? I’ll even be nice and let you borrow my shovel.”

“Y-You expect me to dig by hand?! I’ll die!”

Despite Ren’s protests, Amyu seemed intent on actually making him dig. The aftermath of the battle had made such a mess that one person couldn’t possibly clean everything up without magic, so it was probably just spite.

In the end, I’ll figure something out for the graves.

“It all worked out, didn’t it?” Yuki whispered into my ear. “Moments like these are necessary.”

“Yeah. You were right.”

Amyu had learned something. That never would’ve happened if I’d continued doing everything for her.

“C’mon! Show a little backbone!” Amyu shouted.

I turned around and saw Ren thrusting a shovel into the ground, his expression miserable. She really was making him dig.

“By the way,” Amyu said, turning her head to me, “why did you leave town so early to come here? I know it’s a bit late to ask after I roped you into helping me dig, but did you have something you wanted to do?”

“I was going to investigate the corpses.” It had completely slipped my mind. Granted, I hadn’t expected to find much anyway. “I was hoping there might be a clue that could lead us to the enemy.”

“Oh yeah, you’ve been doing that in all the other cities too. I’ll help.”

“Huh? You?”

“That said, all I can really do is take off anything that might identify them.”

“Right...”

Until now, we had only collected unburned objects to take as mementos, but since we were burying them, Amyu’s suggestion was the proper way to do things. The two of us walked over to where the bodies were laid out. As I wondered where to begin, Amyu suddenly raised her voice.

“Huh?” She stopped in front of a corpse.

I looked over and didn’t see anything out of the ordinary about the body she was staring at. It was the sort we’d seen countless times already—a poorly equipped, middle-aged man with only a shabby sword by his side. Yet Amyu wasn’t moving.

“Is something wrong?” I asked, walking over to her.

“I feel like I’ve seen this guy before,” she said, still looking down at the body.

“What do you mean?” Her response caught me off guard. “Was he someone you knew?”

“I don’t think so... I just feel like I’ve seen him somewhere. What about you? Do you recognize him?”

“Huh?” Though I was doubtful, I took another look at the man’s face. We were on the western side of the empire, far from the Lamprogue family’s land, Lodonea, or Rakana. There was no way he would be someone I recognized. Yet the moment I saw his face, I was struck by a feeling of familiarity. I had seen him before, but the memory was so faint I couldn’t place where it was or who he had been.

“Ah! W-Wait... But...” Amyu cried out as though she had realized something, only to immediately grow confused.

“What is it? Did you remember something?”

“Y-Yeah.” Amyu nodded hesitantly. “Doesn’t he look like that guy? The father we pulled out of the rubble when we rescued that girl. He was dead, but...”

My eyes shot open. She was right. He did look the same.

“I guess he couldn’t have been turned into an undead. This person’s clothes are completely different. We didn’t have time to bury the people in that city, so you cremated them all, right? Could this guy be his brother? A twin, maybe? That’d be really sad,” Amyu muttered, her voice subdued.

“It can’t be...” I mumbled to myself, lost in thought. “That would mean...”

Act 2

Night was beginning to fall. As the dusk deepened, a girl of about ten walked alone through the ruined city square. She was holding an old, worn-out book up to her chest. The girl was one of the few survivors after the undead assault on the city.

There were no other figures in the square. It was completely lifeless, filled with only piles of hastily cleared rubble. Other than the girl, the only movement came from the glow of a few scattered fireflies. The girl started toward the only building in the square that had light spilling from its windows, but just as she reached for the door, she seemed to notice me standing there.

“Wah!” The girl was startled for a moment, then stared at my face before suddenly breaking into a smile. “It’s you!” It was the same little girl Amyu and I had rescued from the rubble. “I’m so glad you came back! Everyone’s still scared... They don’t know when we might be attacked again. I’m sure they’ll be relieved to know you’re back!”

I didn’t respond, but she kept speaking with the same radiant joy.

“We’ve slowly been going back to our normal lives. I got some vegetables today, so I made soup. Is that red-haired girl with you? Would you like to eat with me?”

I still didn’t respond. It was odd. Neither Amyu nor I had exchanged more than a few words with the girl we’d rescued. All we’d done was pull her seemingly unconscious body from the rubble and leave her at the makeshift shelter. She shouldn’t have even remembered our faces, yet there she was, smiling at me.

“My dad’s better now, thanks to you two! Come on, dad!” The girl turned back to the house, and the door opened, light pouring through the crack.

A plain, ordinary-looking man stepped out. “Ah... Ahh...” He was looking up at the sky rather than at me. Hollow words spilled out of his slack-jawed mouth. “Th-Thank...you...”

“Dad! Speak properly!”

“Thank you...f-for saving...my daughter...”

“Thank you...for...”

Another voice rang out, and a middle-aged man appeared from the dark house next door. He was a generic sort of man you could find anywhere, and he had the exact same face as the first.

“Th-Thank you...”

“You...saved us...”

Two more men walked out of an alley to the west.

“I thought...I was dead...”

“I’m so glad...to be alive...”

More middle-aged men rose up on the roof of a house and inside a shop.

“B-But if you had...”

“If you had come sooner...”

“We wouldn’t have suffered...so much...”

“Why... Why...”

“You’re so strong... So why...”

From behind rubble, from the windows of ruined houses, from the mouths of broken chimneys—middle-aged men all bearing the same face emerged from every location.

“Did you not enjoy my performance?” the one taking the form of the young girl asked, the smile now gone from her face. “A pity. I went through such lengths to make it entertaining for you. Dealing with the living is always so troublesome.” The necromancer sounded frustrated. Both their tone and the content of what they were saying were ill-suited to the little girl they were appearing as.

“Seems like you knew I was coming,” I said, surrounded by the undead men.

“Of course.” The necromancer nodded with an oddly composed smile—one far too self-assured for the face of the young girl. “I am a necromancer. The corpses I command aren’t limited to humans. Did you know that a bird’s vision far surpasses that of a man’s? Their colors are peculiar, but perhaps that’s because they can see hues invisible to us,” the necromancer said, a hint of pride in their voice.

Ordinarily, a necromancer couldn’t share sight with the undead. What the mage before me was describing was far beyond conventional necromancy.

“At any rate, you have quite the curious dragon serving you. I’d very much like to have it when it dies.”

“That would be difficult, seeing as you’re going to meet your end tonight,” I replied quietly.

“What a hot-blooded being you are.” Despite my threat, the necromancer maintained their composure. “However, you seek a dialogue, no? Seika, I believe it was. I don’t know if that’s your real name, but that’s what you were called back then, if I’m not mistaken.” Ignoring my silence, the necromancer continued.

“You must have things you wish to know, as a fellow practitioner of the arcane arts. I have questions of my own. Allow me to begin, if you don’t mind. What brought you here?” the necromancer asked, almost philosophically.

I paused a moment before answering. “Distance limitations.”

“Oh?”

“No matter the spell, the effect always weakens with distance. To control so many undead across a vast area would require some sort of trick. And I think that’s your trick right there,” I said, casting my gaze on the middle-aged man standing behind the necromancer. “You relay your spell through special, identical corpses. We found another corpse with the same face as the one we pulled out of the rubble here.”

“How lucky for you,” the necromancer said as though surprised. “There are only a few corpses acting as relays. You were lucky to find one. I assumed that if the dead were all cremated together, or if their faces were even slightly damaged, they would never be discovered.”

“It wasn’t luck. Rendering armies powerless without damaging their bodies is a simple feat for me. I’ve grown accustomed to the circumstances, which has granted us some leeway. The leeway to properly mourn the dead.”

It was by no means mere good fortune. It was because Amyu had decided to bury the dead and defeated Ren that I was able to see through the enemy’s trick and make it here.

“If there was any luck on our side, it’s that you turned out to be unexpectedly foolish.”

“Hmm...”

“Someone calling that corpse father only brought more attention to it. In hindsight, it was a bafflingly stupid move.”

“You’ve got me there. At the time, I thought it was my best option,” the necromancer said with a forced smile. “I feared you would examine the relay corpse. While I tried not to leave any extra traces, it was always possible I might have missed something. I wanted to pass the body off as a resident’s corpse. I thought my acting was pretty good for something I came up with on the spot, but I suppose it completely backfired.”

“That was quite an unfortunate encounter,” the necromancer continued. “I had intended to make this city into one of my workshops, but you all showed up before I could finish. I tried to hide under the rubble, only to end up getting found by that red-haired girl. I suppose that was my first error in this experiment.”

I took a short breath. I had thought there might have been something more to that confusing encounter—perhaps even a trap of some sort—but it seemed to have simply been pure coincidence. However, there were still things that didn’t add up.

“Now it’s my turn. What’s with that body?” I asked, cocking an eyebrow. “I assumed any corpse acting as a relay would resemble the spellcaster, but clearly that’s not the case.”

“What a dull question from someone who managed to come so close to finding me. It’s not even worth answering,” the necromancer said, a hint of disappointment in their voice. “Instead, I’ll let you in on a secret. Take a good look at those around you.”

I took a look at the men surrounding the square, all with the same face. Upon close inspection, they weren’t entirely identical. Some had thinner faces, while others were more portly. Some had round faces, others angular. Some were pale, some were dark, and some had scars. There were differences from the neck down as well. Though they were all of similar builds, their weights and heights differed slightly.

Their clothes differed as well. Though they were all dressed like typical commoners, there were chef and blacksmith outfits mixed in with scattered sightings of women and children.

“It can’t be...” I mumbled. “Are they the citizens of this city?”

“An astute observation.” The necromancer nodded in satisfaction. “I put all the people you saved to good use. To make corpses in the shape I want, I have to start while they’re still alive. The entire reason I left survivors in this city to begin with was to have them serve as base bodies for that purpose.”

“The shaping of corpses was originally a very troublesome task, but for this wide-area experiment, I developed a new method that uses healing magic,” the necromancer cheerfully continued. “It’s quite revolutionary, if I do say so myself. Even if I accidentally slice someone up a bit, I can restore them, and it drastically shortens the time needed to fuse the flesh. That’s why I was able to prepare this many relay corpses in such a short time. Of course, the drawback is that healing magic doesn’t work on the dead, so everything must be finished while the base bodies still live. There are a few whom the movement sealing curse works poorly on and cry out during the procedure, which does pain me, but I simply tell myself that they’re all the same once they’re dead. It’s important to be pragmatic.”

The necromancer’s tone was that of a scholar excitedly explaining their discovery. When someone was strong enough to go beyond human limitations, it wasn’t uncommon for their mind to break along the way. The mage before me was without a doubt one such broken specimen.

“So, what’s your goal?” I asked. “Why do all this?”

“Knowledge,” the necromancer replied as though it were obvious. “The research itself is my goal. What else is worth pursuing? To convert the ‘zero’ that is a corpse into a ‘one’ that possesses value. Necromancy carries a significance that goes beyond infinity. It’s capable of bringing great change to the world.” The necromancer, taking the form of the girl, spoke exactly as expected of a broken individual. “That said, it’s not as though I desire a great number of experimental subjects. I’m carrying out this wide-area project at the behest of my patron.”

“The world is a cruel place. No matter how much money you have, it’s never enough for research,” the necromancer lamented. “In addition to corpses in good condition, I require many different tools. The rarer something is, the more expensive it becomes, and things that are necessary in large quantities aren’t cheap either. For one such as myself, who cannot exist among the living, the presence of backers is indispensable. I must do my best to satisfy their requests.”

“So you do have a collaborator. Who is it?” I demanded. “Who’s backing you?”

“Whoops, I’m afraid I can’t answer that,” the necromancer said with a grin. “It’s been a long time since I’ve spoken with the living. I suppose I rambled too much. You’ll have to forgive me for stopping here.”

“All right,” I said, moving hitogata into position. “Then I have no more business with you.”

“Already out of questions?” The necromancer blinked, seemingly let down. “Do you not wish to know more about the fruits of my research? Just the other day, I finally succeeded in an experiment involving the impregnation and childbirth of a female undead rat. The offspring, of course, are living. In theory, it could even be applied to humans. While I’m not well-versed in the emotions of the living, would a man who’s lost his wife not be delighted by that?”

“Not interested.” The surrounding hitogata began to flicker blue as cursed energy leaked out of them. “There’s nothing I want to learn from you.”

“That’s too bad. Then I’ll make this my final question.” The necromancer looked directly at me. “Who are you? In my pursuit of mastery over necromancy, I’ve gathered knowledge on every form of magic and all things relating to it. I’m confident no scholar could surpass me, yet even with all I know, your power confounds me. You call upon that bizarre sword and dragon through an incomprehensible summoning spell. Your talismans operate on principles beyond understanding. It’s all far beyond the bounds of my knowledge. How did you learn those techniques, boy?” A light shone in the necromancer’s eyes as though they were trying to peer into the depths of an abyss.

“I’m not answering that,” I replied, my expression utterly stone-faced. “Even if I did, you wouldn’t be able to understand it.”

“Heh... Very well. Then I have no further use for you either.” The girl’s delicate hands opened the book she had been holding. Particles of light burst forth from its pages with a tremendous surge of energy, gradually taking shape behind the necromancer. “In your final moments, allow me to show you my masterpiece.”

A grotesque abomination of a dragon emerged from the light. It had the winged body of a true dragon, from which seven different heads sprouted.

The first was the head of the original dragon. From its body sprouted the slender head of a hydra, the eyeless head of a wyrm, the triangular head of a wyvern, and the head of a sea serpent covered in fishlike scales. Those heads were at least somewhat ordinary. Of the remaining two heads, one was translucent and ghostly, while the other was a single, massive red eye at the end of a long neck.

It was a creature that shouldn’t exist. Even among hydras, there was no such species to be found. The weight of its heads seemed to cause its body to slump forward, and the patchwork scales on its body varied in color and shape.

“What do you think?” The necromancer sounded almost proud. “The base materials alone are worth enough to build a castle. This is the culmination of my research. I would’ve liked to hear your thoughts on it, but I suppose you must be speechless.”

The ghostly and eyeball heads of the cobbled-together dragon directed curses at me. The eyeball’s evil eye hindered my movement, while the spectral head caused wedge-shaped curse marks to begin appearing on my body. The ghostly head likely belonged to a type of dragonkin known as a curse dragon, and judging from the red optic’s size, I suspected it had been taken from a cyclops bearing the evil eye.

“It’s unfortunate, but I’ll have to give up on turning you into an undead. You don’t appear to be an opponent I can go easy on.” The remaining five heads reeled back, and energy began swirling around them. “Now, die without a trace,” the necromancer said, as composed as ever.

The patchwork dragon unleashed its breath. Fire spewed from the original dragon head, poison gas from the hydra’s, lava from the wyrm’s, a sharp gust of wind from the wyvern’s, and a torrent of water from the sea serpent’s head. The backlash from the tremendous force lifted the dragon’s upper body off the ground for a moment.

The corpses of the middle-aged men were caught in the aftermath—set ablaze, torn apart, swallowed up, and swept away. As the necromancer had said, any ordinary human who took a direct hit would have been annihilated without a trace. However, it never reached me.

“My thoughts, huh?” I said, safely inside a hitogata barrier. The breath’s immense power had fizzled out before any part of it reached me. “The way its seemingly unbalanced heads absorb the recoil from its breath is surprisingly functional, I’ll give you that.” Neither my mouth nor my body showed any sign of hindrance. The curse marks had vanished before I even put up my barrier. A curse of that level didn’t even need any countermeasures. “That said, your sense of aesthetics is dreadfully poor.”

“I’m surprised.” The necromancer’s smile stiffened from inside a pillar of light. At their side stood two undead clad in priestly robes that they had summoned without me noticing. They’d likely had the two of them create a barrier to shield them from the aftermath of the breath. “I’ve seen that barrier before, but I didn’t expect it to be able to defend against that breath attack. None of the talisman barriers I’m familiar with are that strong.”

“Guess you need to expand your knowledge,” I said, pulling more hitogata out of the alternate plane. “This is enough to silence even the most troublesome corpses.” I scattered the hitogata in every direction, surrounding the city.

I made a hand sign and poured cursed energy into the hitogata, enveloping the city in a massive barrier. If you didn’t care what became of the corpses, dealing with the undead was simple. You simply needed to dispel the magic and return them to being lifeless flesh, which was something exorcists excelled at.

As expected, the moment the barrier was completed, the remaining middle-aged men, the priestly undead soldiers, and even the patchwork dragon all slumped over.

“Heh heh.”

However, the undead that should have been dispelled by the barrier didn’t go down. They faltered momentarily, then immediately got back up.

“What’s going on?” I couldn’t understand what had just happened.

“I told you I’ve seen it before, didn’t I? Naturally, I came up with a countermeasure,” the necromancer said with a fearless smile. “That barrier is deployed as a three-dimensional field using talismans as its vertices. That means it has a blind spot—your talismans can’t pass through the ground, so the barrier doesn’t affect beneath the earth. By preparing a magic circle underground to maintain the spell, it’s possible to circumvent it. Whether or not your barrier would nullify the magical power coming from below ground was a gamble, but it appears I won that bet.”

I met the enemy sorcerer with silence as they demonstrated how to overcome my onmyoudou barrier. Their observation was spot-on. Though it depended on how the barrier was deployed, the type I often used didn’t extend underground. Still, I hadn’t expected someone who had only observed it once remotely to find a way to exploit that flaw. Both the idea itself and the mastery required to implement it were far beyond the capabilities of an ordinary individual.

I was dealing with more than a mere eccentric. This was a necromancer who had truly mastered the art, unlike any I had encountered in my previous life.

“Even so,” the necromancer said, looking at the priest undead, “it seems the spells my undead use are being nullified. I imagine that means the dragon’s breath won’t work either. No matter.”

Suddenly, the stone pavement of the square burst apart with a deafening crack.

“Oooh...” A figure emerged from below. It was a massive, humanoid corpse around six meters tall. It appeared to be a giant.

More and more undead poured out from underground. There was even a red-skinned ogre corpse, a black-furred bearfolk corpse, and a large, battle-axe-wielding devil corpse.

“I anticipated this, so I placed a summoning circle underground as well. This is my prized collection—demon undead. Most swords and spells will simply bounce right off them, and they can tear a human apart with their bare hands. How will you fight foes your barrier doesn’t affect?” The necromancer gave the order to attack. “If you would, please die beautifully for me.”

The undead demons charged, but I already had a hitogata floating in the air. “Oh well,” I said with a small sigh. I made a hand sign with one hand. “I was planning on doing this in the end anyway.”

Summoning: Gaki. A horde of ayakashi streamed out of the spatial distortion.

“Huh?” The necromancer let out a startled cry, and the undead soldiers halted their advance.

Compared to the demons, the unsettling ayakashi were pitifully small. Though they were humanoid in shape, they were no taller than a child. They were emaciated to the point that they looked like starving orphans, their bellies the only part of them that was distended and jutted out. Their eyes burned with a dark hunger, seeking something to devour.

The moment the gaki hit the ground, they took off running. The undead giant was the closest, and one promptly bit into its ankle. Not even giving it time to struggle, the area where the giant had been bitten burst into blue flames and disappeared.

“Ooh...” Thrown off-balance, the undead giant toppled over.

The fallen giant’s massive body was soon swarmed by the other gaki, their jaws tearing into its flesh. Wherever their teeth sank in, blue flames burst forth, and the giant began to vanish piece by piece. In a matter of mere seconds, its body had been reduced by half its size.

Similar scenes were unfolding throughout the square. The ogre had fallen face down, its lower half missing. The bearfolk stood in place, only its legs remaining after its upper body vanished. The undead devil, already missing an arm, swung its battle-axe, only for a gaki to bite into the blade itself. The weapon vanished into blue flames, and soon after, the devil’s body was nothing more than a head.

“What in the world... How can this be?” the necromancer mumbled in shock, staring at the spectacle unfolding before their eyes.

“Groooar!” The patchwork dragon roared, swinging its necks and tail and destroying the buildings around it. There were several gaki biting into its body as it struggled. Not only did they seem completely unhindered by its rigid scales, but they bit the spectral curse dragon head, causing it to disappear with a burst of blue flames. Its body was shrinking rapidly.

“That isn’t possible...” the necromancer groaned, looking up at their disappearing masterpiece. “What are those grotesque goblins? They’re erasing more mass than their bodies could possibly contain. Is it some kind of teleportation magic? No, there’s no sign of that...”

“They’re a pitiful ayakashi,” I said as though monologuing. “Constantly starving, yet they can never eat. Everything that enters their mouths catches fire and disappears. Their form is said to be a punishment that people who are greedy in life receive after their death.”

That was nothing more than superstition, of course. The ayakashi known as gaki simply behaved that way. The phenomenon where anything they bit vanished was caused by their own supernatural power.

“Huh?” The necromancer’s face went stiff, as though they had just heard an absurd joke. “Ha ha... That’s ridiculous. As if there could be such a thing. When a person dies, that’s it. All that remains is a corpse and a soul that sticks around like a lingering scent.” The necromancer seemed to be at their wits’ end. “I don’t understand. Neither their biology nor the principles behind it. What sort of monster are they? How is this phenomenon occurring? I can’t even begin to imagine... What in the world...”

The girl’s face lit up with joy. “How wonderful! There are still things in this world beyond my comprehension! The path continues... The path I must master stretches far beyond what I can see— Agh!” The necromancer suddenly groaned and fell to the ground.

There was a gaki biting away at each of the necromancer’s legs, blue flames igniting the skin hanging from their grotesque mouths.

“Ahh... Ha ha. What pleasant pain...” The necromancer looked at the gaki consuming their rapidly disappearing legs, a pained smile on their face. “I-It’s odd... The feeling of being bitten vanished in an instant. A-As though it’s being erased from the world itself... Ah, it hurts... Good... I’m certain...” A calculating light shone in their eyes. “I can use this for next time.”

“You think you get a next time?” I asked, commanding the gaki devouring the necromancer to cease its flow of cursed energy.

Everything around us had vanished in no time at all. The undead demons, the patchwork dragon—even the rubble and houses. It had all disappeared without a trace, consumed by the ever-hungry ayakashi. The gaki gathered around, their dark eyes fixed on the necromancer’s body, the only sustenance left to them.

“Of course I do.” Crawling on the ground with most of their lower body gone, the necromancer chuckled. “Have you still not figured out the answer to the first question you asked me?”

“Of course. That’s not your real body, is it?” I said, clicking my tongue.

There was no reason for the relay corpses to look like middle-aged men if the real body was a little girl. I just hadn’t been certain. Corpses revived through necromancy didn’t behave like the living, yet the girl’s body had moved and acted as though it were truly alive. Such precise control through necromancy was far beyond my understanding.

“Heh heh. Only a third-rate necromancer would reveal themselves before the enemy. Do you think that little of me?” the necromancer said, completely relaxed despite being surrounded by gaki. “You messed up.”

“How so?”

“Because your monsters devoured everything, you lost any means of tracking me. I don’t imagine we’ll ever meet again.”

“Fine by me.” Looking down at the necromancer, I gave the starving ayakashi the order. “Eat up.”

The gaki descended on the necromancer. The girl’s remaining upper body vanished from the world in an instant, swallowed by fierce flames.

“You wouldn’t have left any leads behind anyway,” I said, opening a gate to send the ayakashi back to the other plane. Glancing back at the now lost city of the living, my expression twisted with sadness. “And I don’t want to make her dig any more graves.”

Act 3

A few days after facing off with the necromancer and destroying one of their bases, we received word that the rebel army had been eliminated. The undead had all ceased activity at once, and there had been no further movement since. The cause was unclear.

The body of the undead girl might have, in fact, played a major role, or perhaps the necromancer had simply given up after losing such a large base for manufacturing relay corpses. There was no way to know for sure. All that could be said was that the Hero’s duty had come to an end before the imperial military ever arrived.

Now we were to return to the capital.

◆ ◆ ◆

I walked by myself through the lavish hallway. Back in the capital, I had once again been summoned to the imperial palace by the unnaturally ordinary emperor, Gilzerius Urd Alegreif. Not Amyu or Fiona—me alone.

I proceeded through the palace silently. There wasn’t a servant to be seen in the hallway, perhaps due to the vast size of the palace grounds. I came to a stop. At the other end of the hall, a lone figure stood facing me.

“Hey there.” Leaning on a cane, the figure raised his left hand. “I heard His Majesty summoned you,” the sunglasses-wearing young man said, a smile on his face. It was the first prince, Hiltzel Urd Alegreif.

“It’s an honor, Prince Hiltzel.”

“No need for formalities,” Hiltzel said, cutting off my noble etiquette. “What does His Majesty want?”

“I don’t know. I wasn’t told anything,” I answered, looking away ever so slightly. That much, at least, was true.

“Hmm?” Hiltzel appeared surprised by my response. “It’s strange, no? You were summoned here alone rather than alongside the Hero. Still, I’m sure it can’t be for anything bad. After all, you were successful in putting a stop to the revolt,” he said with a gentle smile. “I was astonished to hear that the rebel army was in fact an uprising led by a single necromancer controlling an army of corpses. But that threat is gone now, thanks to you all. I’m sure you’ll be handsomely rewarded.”

“You exaggerate,” I said, shaking my head. “We didn’t do anything special. We only neutralized one part of the army. If the empire didn’t take action, then that can only mean the enemy withdrew on their own. We don’t deserve any reward.”

“How modest. I like that about you,” said Hiltzel, his smile unchanging. “But you should acknowledge your achievements. Both for your own sake and for those supporting you. May I ask you a question, Seika Lamprogue?” Hiltzel looked directly at me.

“I received a report from one of my subordinates that traces of a repulsive experiment had been found in one of the fallen cities. We believe the enemy necromancer used it as a base. However, there was no sign of the necromancer or any undead—only evidence of large-scale destruction and a vast, eerily barren stretch of land. It’s not impossible that the necromancer was responsible, but it doesn’t appear to be the work of any necromancy. The destruction, perhaps, but merely controlling corpses shouldn’t allow for the creation of a completely leveled wasteland without so much as any rubble left behind. I’m of the belief that the necromancer was defeated by someone in their base, and that the uncanny wasteland is the work of that someone.”

“Was it you?” The prince’s question pierced right through me. “Did you do it, Seika Lamprogue?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I answered, looking away.

“Serve me.” The smile was wiped off Hiltzel’s face. I turned back to him, and saw his eyes locked on me from behind his dark glasses. “Money, power—I can give you whatever you desire. In return, I ask for your strength, Seika Lamprogue.”

“What do you want from me?”

“The throne,” the first prince replied without a moment’s hesitation. “That is my only desire.”

A heavy silence fell over us. Our eyes remained locked until I finally closed mine and shook my head.

“I can’t do that.” There was only ever one way I could have responded. “Even if I needed money or power, I would never serve you.”

“Why not—” Hiltzel suddenly cut himself off. His gaze was fixed on a small light flickering before me.

A faint green glow, barely visible in the daylight. It was a firefly.

“Truth is, I can use a bit of necromancy myself. Though it’s a completely different system from that necromancer’s and doesn’t remotely compare.” Onmyoudou had a form of reviving the dead. It was considered something of a heretical art and wasn’t often taught, but any practitioner with sufficient power could perform it, provided they knew the proper procedures.

“This is the corpse of a firefly. A firefly turned undead.” I stuck out my finger, and the firefly landed on it. The green light flickered. “Are you still wearing that necklace, Your Highness? The firefly magic item you showed me at the party. If you still have it on you, could I take another look at it?”

After a brief pause, Hiltzel slowly pulled something out of his clothes. It was a pendant intricately crafted in the shape of a firefly. It was faintly flickering, just like the undead firefly.

“There was something I never understood,” I began. “It was clear the necromancer had a collaborator. But then, how were they communicating? They wouldn’t use something as conspicuous or interceptable as a courier or carrier pigeon to pass messages. Sending letters using animal corpses would be simple enough, but once it became known that the enemy was a necromancer, anyone could guess such a method. If the messenger were tracked, everything would be exposed.”

The collaborator had to be someone with deep knowledge of the empire’s geography and cities—someone with enough influence to acquire the corpses of demons, monsters, and people for the rebel army. Such a person would no doubt be cautious in how they contacted the necromancer, the one actually carrying out their plans.

“After it was all over, I recalled one thing that felt off to me. Your Highness, why were you wearing that necklace at the party? You said you bought it to illuminate dark places, and it wasn’t even useful for that, so why wear it to a daytime party? It doesn’t even serve as an accessory when you wear it beneath your clothes.”

The prince remained silent throughout my questioning, so I continued.

“I began to suspect you might not have wanted anyone to notice it. There were many unseasonal fireflies on the western side of the empire, particularly around the undead. I was never confident they were truly alive.”

Things that look the same must be the same. Humans were prone to such thinking, and it served as the foundation of curses. If one could transmit their necromancy over long distances using corpses that bore the same face, then it stood to reason that it would be simple to synchronize the light of a dead firefly with another that was far away—or a magic item crafted in the likeness of a firefly.

“Communication only requires the transmission of zeros and ones. To be specific, merely by assigning short flashes to zero and long flashes to one, you have a functional system. A single flash gives you two possible signals; three flashes, eight; six flashes, sixty-four different pieces of information. With that much complexity, you could even assign them all phonemes and communicate using words.”

Yin and yang were represented by two simple lines. Combine them in groups of three and you have eight trigrams. Use groups of six, and you have sixty-four hexagrams. I was by no means the only person capable of coming up with the idea to apply that principle to communication.

“You wouldn’t be able to send messages that were too long, but it would be perfect as a means of discreet communication. It’s fast because you don’t have to cover any physical distance, and more importantly, it’s secure. The human eye can’t tell if a nearby firefly is alive or a corpse being controlled by a necromancer. If the pendant happened to glow, you could simply brush it off as a function of the magic item. Even if someone grew suspicious, they would never imagine the flickering light held meaning.”

By placing undead fireflies at regular intervals all the way from the western side of the empire to the capital and establishing the firefly pendant as the endpoint, they could establish a hidden network of light-based communication. And if the prince could make the magic item glow by channeling magical power into it as he had said, then even two-way communication was possible.

“Of course,” I continued, “this is all speculation. If I’m completely off the mark, please say so. Say that the pendant lighting up in concert with the undead fireflies was purely coincidental. Say that you wore it at the party simply because you liked the design. Say that there were others who could’ve learned about the revolts your brothers were plotting and schemed to use them as undead. If that’s the case, I’ll apologize for my rudeness and swear to never show my face in front of you again.”

Hiltzel maintained his silence a little longer, then finally gave a weak laugh.

“That code was actually something I came up with myself.” Unlike before, the prince’s demeanor was now calm and gentle. “Frankly, I would’ve been content just using an undead bird for communication, but that man had a peculiar sense of aesthetics. He refused to use such a dull method, so I proposed the code. It was a crude cipher I came up with as a child lost in my dreams.”

Hiltzel continued with a faint, self-deprecating smile. “Just remembering it embarrasses me. In that fantasy, the imperial palace is attacked by a mob. My brothers and I are taken hostage in a room in the palace, and to keep them and the servants safe, I negotiated with the leader of the mob while secretly communicating with powerful warriors under my command. Tap-tap-ta-tap, tap-ta-ta-tap-tap. I knocked on the wall in two rhythms, combined in patterns to form words. In that dream, I used five sets—thirty-two combinations. Then, when the moment came, my warriors burst into the room at my signal, and I took up a sword and fought by their side. I became a legend, praised by the people of the capital. Even after starting with how embarrassing it is, it’s still a humiliating story.” Hiltzel awkwardly scratched his cheek.

Certainly, it was a childish fantasy. Yet there was no doubt he was a prodigy to understand exponents of two and be able to devise a cipher at such a young age.

“Even so,” Hiltzel said, a subtle edge beginning to show in his calm demeanor, “to think the cipher I created to be praised by the people would end up being used to turn them into corpses. I’m sure the me from back then would be disappointed if he knew,” he said cynically.

“Why did you do it?” I asked, getting sucked into the atmosphere around him.

“For the empire’s future. Both by custom and in aptitude, I am most suited to become the next emperor. Yet defectors from my faction keep appearing one after another, and there’s no sign of it stopping. Their betrayals further intensify the fight over the throne and will bring about chaos in the future. As the one who will carry the empire’s future, it is my duty to punish them for their transgressions. I must make them regret their actions by ruining them politically and destroying their territories. It will all serve as a deterrent for future defectors. I’m making an example of them, to put it plainly.”

“You...” I found myself at a loss for words from the shock. “You would sacrifice tens of thousands of your own citizens just for that?”

“And that is precisely the difference in sensibilities between those who govern and those who do not. I want you to think about it rationally,” Hiltzel said as though trying to persuade me. “It’s only a few tens of thousands.”

I couldn’t comprehend what he had just said. “I beg your pardon?”

“At the time of the census four years ago, the total population of the empire was measured at eighty-five million.” Hiltzel continued as if he didn’t see the look on my face. “Four years later, if you include the people who were missed by the census, the population is likely closing in on a hundred million. Do you understand that? One hundred million. Even numbers as large as tens of thousands pale in comparison.”

“Still...” Aghast, I protested his words. “Those tens of thousands of people all had lives.”

“Only a lord, at most, can afford the luxury of valuing every single commoner’s life.” Hiltzel’s words rejected basic human understanding, as though he were some sort of alien creature. “That is not permitted of a ruler. They are forced to choose—to kill ninety-nine in order to save one hundred. Make the wrong call, and even more will die. A country cannot stand if it lacks the courage to use its lives to sustain it.” Hiltzel’s expression didn’t waver in the slightest. He seemed to genuinely believe what he was saying.

Before I knew it, I had already taken a step away from him. I had never seen a monster like him. I had seen tyrants, rulers consumed by madness, and monarchs whose greed had made them repeat their mistakes constantly. But I knew of no other ruler who had reached such a ruthless conclusion despite their clarity and logic.

“In truth, I didn’t originally plan to kill so many people,” Hiltzel said with a bitter smile. “If His Majesty had decided to send the imperial military more promptly, I would have lured them into a trap to obtain the necessary forces. Due to the military officers and the assembly being unable to make up their minds, we were only able to turn feeble civilians into undead, and had to pay unnecessary sacrifices. Still, the forces we need are now finally gathered, and we can at last begin.”

My eyes shot open. I had a bad feeling. “Begin? It’s already over.”

“Not yet it isn’t. The undead have only ravaged the territories of my brothers’ supporters. The traitors’ punishment is about to begin.”

“But you lost all your undead.”

“That was a mere diversion. The real force consists of ten thousand elites, handpicked from the general populace for their strong bodies, dispersed and concealed so they wouldn’t be discovered. With them, we can take any city. Or so that man claimed. That said, we have only one target—the canyon city of Tenend. We will destroy it and topple Marquess Daramat, who defected from my faction. Everyone will learn what becomes of those who betray me. That will accomplish my objective.”

“Destroy Tenend?” I was taken aback. “What are you thinking? That city’s population is more than just tens of thousands. Far more people are going to die than all your other attacks.”

“Yet it’s still a small price to pay compared to one hundred million.” There was no sign of indecision in Hiltzel’s smile.

My hand automatically reached for the hitogata in my pocket. “That’s absurd!”

“Then will you pledge your fealty to me?” I paused, and he continued with his calm smile. “Killing me won’t make him stop the invasion. The orders have already been given. However, if I use this magic item to contact him, there may still be time to stop him.” He shook the firefly necklace he held in his left hand. “I’m fine with that. Having you is a far greater prize than any show of force. Seika Lamprogue, as a sign of respect for you having reached the truth, I’ll give you a choice.” His gaze pinned me down from behind his dark glasses. “Do the people of Tenend live or die? It’s up to you.”

Lost for words, I stood there in silence. I didn’t have any cards to play. Even if I sent Mizuchi now, I didn’t know if it would arrive in time. And either way, the empire wouldn’t be able to ignore someone who could control a dragon. It would inevitably drag me into the middle of a political storm.

On the other hand, swearing loyalty, even falsely, was far too dangerous. I had no idea how this schemer might use any words I gave him. I couldn’t take my eyes off Hiltzel. Killing the young man in front of me would be easy. One bite from an ayakashi, a single brush of a curse, and the frail prince would be dead. But that was pointless. None of my strength mattered here.

Serving Hiltzel was out of the question. He would use me as a tool for war, just like the necromancer. It wasn’t hard for me to imagine how that would turn out for me. Yet my refusal meant the deaths of tens of thousands of people, if not more. Being the strongest didn’t mean I could save anyone. That was why I limited myself to helping only those I had a connection with. The people of Tenend were strangers with no relation to me.

Still, is it right to just abandon them for that reason? This isn’t just one or two people. This is an entire major city.

“I don’t mean to rush you, but our time is limited,” Hiltzel said, maintaining his calm smile. “I left the timing up to that man. He could be getting started as we speak.”

My breath caught in my throat. Just as I was about to speak without thinking—

“Eh heh heh.” A clear, harmonic laugh echoed through the hall. “Brother, please don’t tease Seika so much.”

I turned around and saw a beautiful girl wearing a dress, her pale blue hair spilling down her back. It was the Holy Princess, Fiona Urd Alegreif. Next to her was her straight-faced holy knight, Ren.

“Hey, Fiona.” Hiltzel greeted his half sister, his tone unchanged. Yet his smile had crumbled just the slightest bit. “I would never tease him. The two of us are in the middle of an important conversation. Could I ask that you not intervene?”

Fiona gave a refined giggle, her hand in front of her mouth. “Might I join that important conversation?”

A figure suddenly appeared in the hallway alongside a surge of power. She was clad head to toe in armor and had a sword at her hip. In her gauntleted right hand, she held something like a burlap sack. I recognized her immediately.

“The War Princess?” I braced myself, but oddly enough, nobody but me seemed surprised that the War Princess had teleported in out of nowhere.

“I brought you a present,” Fiona said, her smile still on her face.

Hiltzel’s expression, on the other hand, immediately clouded over.

“Give Brother his gift, Elysia.”

The War Princess casually tossed the burlap sack she held in her right hand. It rolled toward Hiltzel as if there were something round inside, leaving a trail of blood on the floor. Finally, it came to a stop at his feet. A few strands of hair poked out from the mouth of the sack. Still leaning on his cane, Hiltzel crouched down, took hold of the hair with his left hand, and lifted it up. The sack slipped away, revealing what was inside.

I gasped. It was a human head. The severed head of an old man, frozen in a dazed expression. On top of that, his face somewhat resembled the middle-aged man who had served as the relay for the necromancer’s spell. It was as if that face might become this one if given twenty years.

Is that the necromancer’s head? I couldn’t grasp what was happening, but there was another reason for my confusion. What had Fiona just called the knight?

“We meet for a third time, Seika Lamprogue!” the knight said, a childlike energy in her voice. “I apologize for my rudeness in our last encounter! I realized I still haven’t properly introduced myself!” The female knight removed her helmet.

Glossy golden hair that I recognized from the party flowed out. The woman, who looked a little older than me, wore a somewhat childlike smile on her well-shaped face as she spoke. “Second seat of the holy knights, Elysia Badd Matias! Eldest daughter of Duke Matias, Fiona’s friend, and that guy’s fiancée!”

My jaw dropped. Almost everything before me defied belief. I had no idea where to even begin asking questions.

“So you’re going to stand in my way after all, Elysia,” Hiltzel said, gazing at his fiancée with heavy sorrow.

“Yes! I crushed your plans, Hiltzel!” Elysia shot her fiancé a sharp glare. “I eliminated the undead army! I defeated the necromancer! Tenend is safe!”

I was shocked by how much relief her words brought me.

Hiltzel gave a small sigh, gazing down at the necromancer’s head in his hand. “A mage of his level was defeated? I find that a little hard to believe. Are you certain this is his real body? He created many corpses with the same face. I can’t even tell myself, and you’re saying you managed to locate him, Fiona?”

“Yes.” Fiona nodded. “Did you know, brother? Necromancy requires far more than just corpses. No matter how skilled a necromancer may be, most of the necessary materials and tools must be purchased.”

“So you pinned down his suppliers. Your influence with merchant firms is troublesome,” Hiltzel said, his expression twisting bitterly. “Still, I can’t imagine he would be so careless as to overlook something so simple.”

“Yes. It seems he maintained several bases and dispersed the delivery of supplies among them. However, food was only ever delivered to one of those locations.”

“Ah. Ha ha, I see.” Hiltzel let out a dry, mocking laugh and raised the severed head in his left hand before his eyes. “No matter how fond he was of the dead, in the end, he himself was still alive.” The young man tossed the head aside; it rolled down the hall and came to a stop when it struck the wall.

“This was quite the drastic measure you took this time, brother,” Fiona said, her smile gone. “Now, my supporters did not suffer any losses, and in fact, many merchant companies profited from the chaos. But still, I couldn’t overlook it. What you’ve done is unacceptable.”

“It’s a shame, Fiona.” Hiltzel looked at his half sister with disappointment. “Unlike my brothers, I thought you were sensible enough to understand. Only I can be the next emperor. Those who would try to get in my way are risk factors liable to plunge the empire into chaos. If a few sacrifices are necessary to eliminate them, so be it.”

“What are you saying?! That’s not true!” Elysia shouted. “People are leaving you because you’re a disgrace! You relied too much on your position as His Majesty’s eldest son and on your own cleverness, and you failed to keep the hearts of those who supported you! Don’t try to make up for your own shortcomings with the lives of the people!”

Hiltzel’s expression twisted, but Elysia wasn’t finished. “I’ll be your wife! I’ll even bear your children! But I will never let you become emperor! Someone with no respect for human life doesn’t have the right to rule others!” Then she pointed to the Holy Princess with her hand. “Fiona is the one who deserves to be the next emperor!”

The hallway fell silent, then Hiltzel and Fiona exchanged glances. Finally, Hiltzel chuckled and looked down at the ground.

“I suppose this is my loss. I’ll accept my defeat and withdraw,” he said, taking a step forward. Passing me, he moved between Elysia and Fiona, heading toward the far end of the corridor. I kept my eyes on the young man as he walked slowly, leaning on his cane. Hiltzel paused for a moment, glancing back as though he felt my gaze. “Goodbye, Seika Lamprogue.”

I watched the first prince’s back the entire time as he walked away.

◆ ◆ ◆

“Uh...”

I was walking through the halls of the imperial palace, following a brief exchange—not even enough to be called a quarrel—with the first prince, Hiltzel. Next up, I had an audience with the emperor, but I wasn’t alone.

“Once again, I am Seika Lamprogue,” I said to the fully armored knight walking next to me. “You may not be familiar with him as he rules a rural territory, but I’m the third son of the current head of the Lamprogue family, Count Blaise Lamprogue. It’s an honor to make your acquaintance, Miss Elysia.” I was speaking with someone from a ducal family, an extremely high-ranking noble, so I decided to give a formal greeting just to be safe.

“Ugh, that’s so uptight!” The knight gave a reply I didn’t expect from a duke’s daughter. “I hate that stuff! You’re friends with Fiona, right?”

“Y-Yeah...”

“Then there’s no need for formalities!” Elysia said with a childlike smile. It was hard to believe she was the same woman who had been standing so stiffly next to Hiltzel at the party.

“Umm, pardon my rudeness, but are you really the daughter of a duke?” I asked, taken aback.

“I am! Why do you ask?”

“Well...” Nothing about her suggested as much. That aside, I decided to ask what I had been most curious about. Hopefully, it wouldn’t come across as too rude. “How are you so strong? You’re the second-highest-ranked holy knight, you wiped out an army of elite undead, and you even took that mage’s head. How could the daughter of a duke have obtained such strength?”

It was unthinkable under ordinary circumstances. Even if she had been educated in swordplay and magic, it wouldn’t have been anything to that extent. Her time would’ve been too occupied with learning manners and etiquette, not refining her technique. Above all, someone who was promised prosperity from birth would have no reason to seek strength.

Elysia tilted her head in thought for a moment. “I don’t know!” she proudly declared. “Obviously, I worked hard, but people say that isn’t enough. I have no idea what makes me special!”

“Elysia is the eldest daughter of Duke Madias and received an education befitting a noble lady. She was assigned a sword instructor and took magic lessons, which is somewhat unusual for a noble’s daughter, but nothing more than that. She didn’t receive any special training, nor did she seek strength. She’s what you would call a natural-born brave.”

A brave. In this case, the word referred to a specific kind of person—someone with abnormal strength. A person with no special bloodline or circumstances of their birth, yet who possessed overwhelming power. Someone who went beyond the limits of humanity.

There had been such people in my past life as well. A warrior who cut down countless oni and ryuu with a single swing of his blade. A sorcerer who sealed a bake-gitsune that had reincarnated eight times and obtained power rivaling the strongest of ryuu by cutting it into nine pieces. In this world, the necromancer would probably fall into the same category, as would I, if I were being honest.

“Unfortunately,” Fiona said, turning to Elysia with a bitter smile, “she doesn’t seem well-suited to being a noble family’s daughter.”

“I’ve been doing my best,” Elysia protested.

“You did seem like you really didn’t want to be at that party,” I said.

Elysia’s face immediately turned dejected. “I hate high society. People always complain when I talk. They say I’m rude or lack refinement... That’s why I just stay quiet.”

“Can’t blame you there.”

Fiona giggled. “I find Elysia quite adorable when she tries to be ladylike.”

“Knock it off. I hated it. I didn’t even wanna go to that party!” Elysia frowned. “He spotted me when I came back to make my report and dragged me with him! He really is a smooth talker. I can’t stand it!” the noble daughter shouted.

“Report, huh? So you’ve been working under Fiona’s orders the whole time?” I asked quietly.

“Yeah! I have to come back sometimes, but I’m faster than any horse!” Elysia puffed out her chest.

Her mastery of teleportation magic would make her plenty fast. She could likely engage in covert operations in the west, then return to the palace to report back with no trouble at all. But that wasn’t the problem.

“Now that I think about it, you did mention that you had holy knights active. Were the rumors about the War Princess your doing too, Fiona?”

“No, they occurred naturally as a result of Elysia driving the citizens out of cities likely to be invaded and forcing them to evacuate,” Fiona answered plainly, making no attempt to cover it up. “Elysia is very strong, but not so strong as to take on an entire army of undead on her own. Striking down the necromancer was the only feasible option. That was why we needed to avoid exhausting ourselves and buy time until I could locate him.”

Fiona calmly revealed the truth of what had happened. “Normally, what an invading army plunders is food and water, but in this case, it was corpses. The undead don’t need food or drink, but they do need dead bodies to replenish and expand their forces. By abandoning the cities, we rendered their advance fruitless. Though a passive strategy, it was an effective one.”

It was a logical decision. In ancient wars in the West, there were records of armies repelling invasions by burning their own towns and villages in advance, cutting off the enemy’s supply lines. I didn’t know if this world had a similar history, but it was a well-thought-out means of dealing with the undead. However, that wasn’t the problem either.

“Of course, we properly compensated the residents who fled. Since they profited from this conflict, I made the merchant companies affiliated with me hand over their gains. Those people should be able to return home before too long,” Fiona said, showing no sign of guilt.

“So you knew even before we left the capital that the rebel army was actually undead?”

“Yes, of course.” Fiona nodded, a confused look on her face.

“Why would you keep that from us?” I demanded, baffled by her nonchalant reaction.

Fiona’s expression turned even more confused, as though she had no idea what I was talking about. I couldn’t understand why.

“Only a handful of people in the capital were aware at the time,” she said. “I absolutely couldn’t risk my brother realizing that I had learned the truth and was already taking action. Since you and the others aren’t accustomed to secret dealings, I couldn’t afford to tell you while you were still in the capital.” After speaking somewhat reluctantly, Fiona’s expression suddenly hardened.

“Actually, I have a question for you regarding this matter as well. Why didn’t you follow my instructions? I was shocked when I received reports that you were engaging the undead. Fortunately, it didn’t require us to alter the overall plan.”

“Instructions?” I blinked in confusion. “What instructions? Did you say something before we left?”

“Huh?” Fiona looked just as stunned as I was. “No, not before you left. Ren told you on the way there, didn’t he? Along with an overview of the situation.”

We silently exchanged a glance, then both turned to the young elf who had been innocently walking beside us. Ren’s face twitched in alarm.

“U-Uh, well...” He started making an excuse for himself. “I-I thought I told you, foolish human.”

“I didn’t hear anything about this.”

“That’s odd... I suppose I forgot. How odd— Ahhh!”

“Fiona! Fire him already! He attacked me too!” Elysia was pulling on both of Ren’s cheeks.

Fiona shot the elven holy knight a cold look. “Be honest with me, Ren.”

“U-Umm...” His cheeks freed, Ren averted his eyes. “I was thinking I’d take down the necromancer on my own. I figured a human you value so highly would be capable of finding him...”

“So you wanted the glory for yourself?” Fiona sighed, her piercing gaze locked on the elf. “I was aware that your personality could cause issues, but I never imagined you’d be incapable of delivering a simple message properly.”

“He also picked a fight with Amyu and ended up breaking his sword,” I added, making Ren visibly panic.

“D-Don’t tell her that, foolish human!”

“I beg your pardon?” Seeing the look on Fiona’s face, Ren froze. Fiona sighed. “Ren, you’re on probation until your sword is repaired. After that, you’ll be accompanying Vromd or Kanu Lu on your missions for a while. I’ll also be docking your pay.”

“Come on...”

“Don’t even start!” Elysia smacked Ren on the head. “Why did you attack me?!”

“I-I thought I’d be exposed if you met with the foolish human face-to-face...”

“That’s not a reason to turn an elven sword’s magic on your allies! I was worried Seika betrayed us when you guys started acting outside of Fiona’s plans! I thought you might’ve been killed! Give me back all that concern I had for you!”

“I’m shorry...” Elysia was pulling on Ren’s cheeks again.

That explained why Elysia suddenly attacked me.

“You know, for someone who went on about taking responsibility and not causing trouble for Fiona, you’re the one who ended up causing the most problems for her. Don’t you feel any shame?” I felt the need to ask.

“I-I think that’s an exaggeration,” Ren protested.

“Do you, now? I’d say you’re the one person who doesn’t have the right to make that claim. You can’t even beat Gly without your sword,” Fiona said, rubbing salt in the wound. “Perhaps you should introduce yourself as the ninth seat for a while.”

“Huh?! C-Cut me some slack!” Ren started crying. He seemed to really hate the idea of being beneath Gly. I couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for him.

“Don’t worry about him!” Elysia said, seeing the pity on my face. “He’ll be back to normal tomorrow. He’s always like this.”

“Oh.” Suddenly, I didn’t feel bad anymore. While I was at it, I decided to ask something that had been on my mind. “You mentioned repairing his magic stone sword earlier. Is that actually possible? It looked like a rare item.”

“It’s possible. If you gather up the fragments, they stick back together on their own. Though it seems to get a little smaller each time. It’s supposedly an elven treasure. He stole it when he left his home.”

“Yikes.”

“I was the best at using it!” The thief attempted to justify himself through his tears.

“You really let him become a holy knight?” I said, taken aback.

Fiona and Elysia exchanged glances, their expressions difficult to read.

“Well, everyone has their quirks...” Fiona mumbled.

“He’s still better than the third seat.”

“Yes, much better.”

“What sort of people have you gathered?” I was dumbfounded. If this was their standard, then they really were holy knights in name only. They seemed to be composed entirely of powerful eccentrics. That Fiona could control them at all was astounding.

“That said, Ren has yet to catastrophically worsen a situation,” Fiona said. “In fact, though I’m reluctant to call it his achievement, civilian casualties were reduced thanks to you all defeating the undead. That extra time you bought us might very well have been what made both the defense of Tenend and the defeat of the necromancer possible.”

“You managed to defend that canyon city?” I murmured.

“Yes, though our losses were by no means minor...” Fiona’s voice trailed off, her expression clouded. “To stop the sudden assault by the undead, we had no choice but to use Elysia’s magic to destroy both bridges leading to the city. The flow of people and goods will be greatly disrupted for a while.”

I recalled the imposing sight of Tenend, built atop a plateau. If both bridges spanning the canyon had been destroyed, then the only way to enter the city would be through the steep mountain forest behind it. While the undead invasion might have been stopped, that was still a steep price to pay.

“Fortunately, no lives were lost,” Fiona continued. “I imagine funds for repairing the bridges will come from the national treasury. Marquess Daramat is an influential figure, so I suspect he’ll have little trouble securing them. Honestly, we’re lucky things didn’t turn out worse.”

“Yeah...” We wouldn’t have gone out west if it hadn’t been for Amyu’s insistence. If that was what had saved the people of Tenend, then perhaps her efforts had been worthwhile.

I had a sudden realization. “You didn’t know all this confusion was coming through your future sight?” If she’d known about Ren’s unauthorized actions beforehand, she could have taken precautions—such as entrusting us with a sealed letter to be opened along the way.

“Unfortunately, I didn’t know,” Fiona said, a bitter look washing over her face. “It’s one of the weaknesses of this power. If Ren’s impatience had led to something disastrous, I likely would have noticed. But since the outcome was ultimately favorable, I perceived no issues in the future. To realize his scheme, I would’ve had to witness the very moment it came to light just now. I’m not able to choose what I see.”

“I see.” I was starting to understand how difficult it was to make use of future sight. I already knew it wasn’t all-powerful, but it was surprisingly inconvenient. Although she could see the future, it seemed like she could only view it through a tiny hole. “Yet you accomplish so much with it, despite the limitations.”

If she could truly see the future, one would think she could always get ahead of any political rival, but apparently, things weren’t that convenient. Princess or not, Fiona was still just a sixteen-year-old girl. The imperial court must have seemed like a den of monsters.

“It just requires effort.” Fiona held her hands up in front of her face and made a small fist with both. It was a charming gesture befitting a girl her age—not what one would expect from a schemer. “I won’t lose. Not even to Hiltzel,” she said with a smile.

Falling silent, I thought back on the first prince. He was a terrifying man, intelligent and ruthless. The conviction to become emperor, no matter what. Even knowing the extent of my power, he stood before me without a trace of fear for his own life. I had to wonder where that madness came from.

“He’s hard on himself,” Elysia murmured. “I was his fiancée, so I’ve known him since we were little. He was always incredible. He’d swing a sword until he collapsed, then cast spells until he passed out. With that frail body of his, he’d say, ‘I have to be capable of more than this if I want to be emperor.’ I can’t even count how many times I had to carry him to a doctor. And he didn’t even take swordplay and magic that seriously. When it came to studying, even his most strict tutors worried about how obsessed he was.” Elysia’s expression darkened as she continued. “He’s right that he’s best suited to becoming the next emperor.”

“What do you mean?”

“He really is the most suitable person. Even with his poor health, there’s nobody who would do a better job than him. That’s what he believes, and he’s probably right. If someone more fit to be emperor than himself were to appear, I’m sure he’d acknowledge it and step down, even if it pained him.”

I understood her point. If there were someone more suitable, those leaving him wouldn’t be joining the emperor’s faction. And as there were currently no candidates for adoption, there was little hope of finding anyone outside the imperial court. Even if it costs tens of thousands of lives, he would enrich the nation enough to balance the scales.

Hiltzel wasn’t simply ruthless or insane—I got the feeling he could genuinely pull such a thing off. If the throne was beyond the capabilities of ordinary men, then perhaps he truly was the one most suited to it. But that didn’t mean I could approve of him taking it.

“Still, just being suitable isn’t enough.” Elysia lifted her gaze, looking off into the distance. “There are many things he lacks, and people will suffer as a result. Somebody has to stop him.”

“And that’s why you pledged your loyalty to Fiona?” I asked, looking at Elysia. “Hiltzel is your fiancé, which would make you the future empress.”

Fiona and Elysia should have been at odds. Siding with Fiona meant betraying Hiltzel and giving up her own chance to become empress. While she didn’t strike me as the type to actively desire the position, it would still greatly affect her family’s future. It couldn’t have been an easy decision.

“Not exactly. I do want to stop him, but that isn’t the only reason. I owe Fiona a debt.”

“You do?”

“And now that we’re friends, I can tell. Fiona has what he’s missing. She’ll make an excellent emperor! That’s why I became her holy knight!” Elysia said with a grin.

Her words filled me with a faint sense of unease. Elysia was no doubt a crucial ally, worth any amount of effort. There were very few people in this world who approached her level of strength. Fiona was truly fortunate to have such a person owe her a debt.

I glanced at Fiona and saw her smiling back at me. Then it hit me.

“Ah... I get it now.”

It wasn’t just fortunate. Fiona had known that Elysia desired what she could offer and deliberately approached her. Using her future sight, she could even create an opportunity to make Elysia owe her a debt. After that, it was simple. She just needed to build a connection and make Elysia recognize her value—she was someone with a legitimate claim to the throne and thus capable of building a faction rivaling Hiltzel’s. All without Elysia realizing her ulterior motives.

That must have been how Fiona had turned all those who met her criteria into her holy knights. The emperor was a position an ordinary person wasn’t suited to—but what about her?

“Oh, I know. How about you become a holy knight too, Seika?”

“Huh?” I cried out in surprise.

“If you become a holy knight, people who wanna use you will stay away!” Elysia continued as though she’d come up with a brilliant idea. “And if anything happens, Fiona will help you! Having you as one of us would be really reassuring too!” she said with a cheerful smile.

There was certainly merit to the proposal. The Hero’s party was currently under Fiona’s patronage, but that was temporary. It was likely that there were many people with their eyes on Amyu, or even me. Joining the holy knights would offer us political protection. But at the end of the day, that would be no different than serving under Hiltzel.

“Elysia, don’t trouble Seika,” Fiona interjected before I could answer.

“But—”

“We have enough holy knights. It’s not something we should pressure him into.”

“Really? All right, if you say so...” Elysia sounded disappointed.

“Sorry,” I said to Fiona, feeling a little awkward.

“It’s fine.” Fiona gave me an understanding smile. “I don’t intend to drag you into political conflict.”

“I appreciate that.” She seemed to understand how I felt. Still, I couldn’t help but wonder.

Why does Fiona go so far to help us? I assumed she had seen some kind of undesirable future and wanted to prevent some kind of turmoil in the empire involving Amyu’s or my strength, but I feel like she’s been way too friendly for that to be the only reason.

“However,” Fiona said with a sly grin, “there’s something I’d like to hear from you already.”

“Huh? What’s that?”

“Come now, Seika. Isn’t there something you’re forgetting to say?” Fiona had a beaming smile on her face.

Then I realized what she wanted. I frowned, but it was the second time now. I couldn’t keep avoiding it forever. Holding back a sigh, I prepared myself to speak.

“Umm... You look very pretty today.”

“Huh?”

“The dress you wore at the party suited you perfectly as well. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a woman as beautiful as you in all my life. I mean that.”

“E-Excuse me?!”

“Was that what you wanted?” I asked, feeling a little uncomfortable.

Fiona’s face flushed red from her neck to her cheeks, her eyes wide. Her lips moved as if to say something, but she could only sputter helplessly. “Wha... You... Agh...”

“What’s wrong?”

“N-No! That isn’t what I meant!”

“It wasn’t?”

“Y-You know! That was a dangerous situation, wasn’t it? With my brother! And I stepped in to help you!”

“Yeah...” Fiona was unusually flustered, her words all over the place, but even I realized the misunderstanding. “That’s what you meant, huh? Sorry. I really appreciate the help. Worst-case scenario, I could’ve wound up getting taken into Hiltzel’s faction. This is twice now you’ve covered for me. I’m truly grateful.”

Fiona was still a politician, as dangerous as any other. Perhaps it was wrong for me to approach her carelessly. Despite that, given all she had done for us, I wanted to believe in her as much as possible.

“Yes, yes... That’s more like it.” Fiona sighed, avoiding looking at me for some reason as she nodded. “I wasn’t remotely prepared for that...” she mumbled, fanning her face with her hand. “I never expected Seika to...” Giggling, she suddenly broke into a wide grin.

“I’ve never seen this side of Fiona!”

“So even the princess can get embarrassed...”

The two holy knights whispered to each other behind Fiona.

I felt a delayed wave of shame finally wash over me. What a ridiculous misunderstanding. Why did I remember being told to compliment her appearance now of all times?

“I think I got the wrong idea,” I said, trying to cover for myself. “Just forget what I said. I’m sure you’ve received better compliments before.”

“No, I’ll never forget it,” Fiona said, her face completely serious.

◆ ◆ ◆

We continued through the hall. At some point, we had run out of things to say. Finally, we reached the audience chamber.

“I’m afraid this is where we part ways,” Fiona said, coming to a stop. “I don’t know what His Majesty wants, or why he summoned you alone. But...”

“I know.” I gave her a soft smile. He clearly didn’t intend to just offer words of thanks. Nonetheless, I had to go. “I’ll be fine. This is my second time meeting him. Besides, whatever happens,” I said, placing my hands on the door to the audience chamber. The smile disappeared from my face. “It’s not like I’ll die.” No matter what sort of trap I was stepping into, I could guarantee that.

I pushed the door open.

Act 4

As I stepped into the audience chamber, Emperor Gilzerius awaited me on the throne, just like our previous encounter.

“Hey there.” The plain man gave me an equally plain greeting. “Good work. I know you just got back, so I apologize for making you come all the way to the palace.”

“It’s all right,” I responded briefly. “What business do you have with me?”

“I wanted to thank you, of course. You did well. Though I made the request of the Hero Amyu, I’m told your contributions were particularly noteworthy. Sorry for making you clean up after my son,” he added entirely casually.

“So you knew it was him,” I replied, my eyes locked on the emperor.

“I could hardly call myself the emperor if I didn’t.” The awkward smile on Gilzerius’s face was the type one could find on any ordinary citizen. “I had a general idea what he was aiming for, so I deliberately let the military’s deployment drag on. I didn’t know what sort of trap he had set to turn the soldiers into undead. I do feel bad for keeping quiet, but I hope you understand why I couldn’t inform you all. In the end, it didn’t change what I needed you to do.”

Devoid of any threat or even vigor, the emperor revealed the intent behind his actions. “I’m very pleased with your results. You all truly did an excellent job. I’ll be able to keep my promise to Lugale now. Ah, pardon me,” the emperor said, noticing my confusion. “I make it a point to call anyone I have even a minor personal relationship with by their given name rather than their family name. It does tend to raise eyebrows. Lugale is Marquess Daramat. I promised him I would have Tenend’s bridges restored.”

“The bridges?”

“They were built more than three centuries ago, so they were quite aged. The mage who constructed them certainly made something incredible, but unfortunately, there wasn’t much thought put into their maintenance or repair. Both bridges were beyond fixing, so Lugale was at a loss as to what to do. Frankly, it’s already impressive that they lasted three hundred years.”

“Ah, I get it.” I had thought he meant rebuilding the bridges because they had been destroyed, but it seemed they had been deteriorating long before that. If they were going to be rebuilt anyway, then the timing of this incident had been rather fortunate. “That’s good. I don’t know much about governing, but I imagine that the treasury will be more willing to allocate funds if it’s said to be going to reconstruction...” My words trailed off, and a powerful sense of unease welled up inside me.

He said he had promised to restore the bridges. How was the emperor planning on doing that? As the ruler of a powerful empire, he no doubt possessed considerable wealth, but there was no way he could personally finance the construction of bridges that large. On the other hand, using the treasury’s funds would require the approval of the assembly. They would never authorize such a large expenditure for a single noble’s territory—unless it was under the guise of reconstruction after wartime damage.

Yet there was an even more fundamental question. Fiona had said that Marquess Daramat, once a prominent figure in the first prince’s faction, had suddenly defected to the emperor’s faction last year. That incident was what had set this entire chain of events in motion. What had prompted him to defect?

“Truth be told, I was actually hoping you would destroy those old bridges, Seika,” the emperor said, resting his chin on his hand like it was a casual conversation.

I was shocked. “Did you have a secret agreement with Marquess Daramat that you would use the empire’s funds to rebuild the bridges if he left the first prince’s faction?”

That would change the meaning behind everything that had happened. Hiltzel’s fury had been because of Marquess Daramat’s defection. But what if that defection occurred because of a secret deal with the emperor? What if that deal had been made fully expecting Hiltzel’s actions?

“Did you...” My words caught in my throat. “Did you plan all this?!”

“No, no, you give me too much credit. Human intentions aren’t so easily bent to one person’s will,” the emperor said, his expression as ordinary as ever. “Restoring the bridge was but one of many promises I made to Lugale. His change in allegiance was merely a side effect. I also asked him for more material favors, though I don’t imagine you’ll ever learn what those were.”

I stood there frozen as the emperor continued.

“There were some miscalculations as well. I certainly didn’t expect the number of undead to swell to such an extent. I knew my son was keeping an interesting pet, but I couldn’t possibly have anticipated the scale. Heh heh, Lugale must have been shocked as well. All he did was make an agreement to rebuild the bridges. He had no idea what he was getting into. Still, things more or less went as I hoped they would.”

“You...” I forced the words out. “That was what you wanted? You really think sacrificing all those lives to fulfill a secret deal was serving the empire?” I knew he was no fool. I could feel it. He hadn’t been driven mad by the results of divination or chasing after a woman, nor was he the type to let greed drive him to make poor decisions. That was what made it so incomprehensible.

“Yes.” The emperor nodded, completely unbothered. “The agreement I made with Lugale, and even this revolt, all served a purpose.”

“What purpose is worth all those sacrifices?!”

“Are you aware that the number of children being born in the capital has been decreasing?” the emperor asked.

I had no idea what he was talking about. Seeing my silence, the emperor continued.

“The population is still growing slightly due to the influx of people from other cities, but who knows how long that will last. This phenomenon will eventually spread across the entire empire,” the emperor continued wearily. “It’s something that inevitably happens in cities that enjoy peace and prosperity for a long time. Prolonged peace breeds weariness and drains people of their vigor. The empire’s peace has lasted a hundred years. No matter how luxurious their lives are, people eventually grow tired of them. There are things in human society that, no matter how detested they may be, remain necessary.”

“Such as?”

“Crisis,” the emperor said as though it were obvious. “It’s something intimately familiar to all living beings. No matter how much one tries to avoid it, a lack of crisis will eventually become toxic. This crisis, I think, has been just the right sort of stimulus for the empire.”

“Huh?”

“For the places that have lost their inhabitants, we’ll recruit people who have lost their jobs in big cities, children from farming families who aren’t inheriting land, and other such individuals, and send them to rebuild. They’ll work hard, have children, and prosper. They’ll be building cities from the ground up, so they’re certain to be motivated. The vigor and energy fostered there will then spread to the capital, if only a little.”

“And that somehow justifies atrocities?! You think the people who died and the lords ruling those lands would accept that?!”

“I have nothing but sympathy for the people. The lords, however, are another matter. The western lands were once home to nations that were hostile to the empire. Many of their current rulers are descendants of those former enemies and inherited that same disposition. That’s why so many of them support Dilryne and Jaylud over Hiltzel. I wanted to remind them of their true duty—protecting their lands rather than plotting to gain power. This is a crude way of putting it, but for the common people, the only difference was which revolt they got caught up in.”

“Are you saying the western lords were plotting a revolt?”

“No.” The emperor shook his head. “It hadn’t yet reached that point. But it’s already too late once it does. Once they begin plotting, I have no choice but to punish them. No matter how you write the script from there, it only ends with both sides left bitter and resentful. Tell me, who would ever want a story like that?”

“What are you...”

“Personally, I prefer a story that ends with everyone happy,” the emperor went on, as though describing a play. “It’s best when conspiracies collapse by pure chance. For example, while scheming some dark plot, an even worse mage runs amok and lays waste to their lands. The lords are left helpless. Then the empire extends a helping hand—offering loans for reconstruction, tax exemptions, that sort of thing. The lords are grateful and deeply repentant. Together with the young people who’ve come from other regions, they rebuild their lands even grander than before. In time, they repay the empire’s kindness through increased tax revenues. And the empire, moved by the vigor of those striving youths in the west, regains its own vitality. My hot-headed sons even learn a little humility. What do you think?” The emperor sounded proud of himself. “Is that not a happy ending?”

I was lost for words. Something was wrong with his logic. There was no way a happy ending could involve so many deaths. But I didn’t know what it was. In fact, maybe there wasn’t anything wrong. Perhaps that was simply what it meant to be a ruler.

“Why...” I couldn’t look away from the emperor. “Why tell me this?” The emperor was on a completely different level from Hiltzel or Fiona. That was what made knowing the truth all the more terrifying.

“It’s not as if it’s some big secret,” the emperor said as though it were the most trivial thing in the world. “Everyone indulges in this sort of wild speculation. Some get close to the truth, while others are so far off the mark I can’t help but laugh. I just let them be. No matter where or what you were to kick up a fuss about, you’re just another one of those voices. You don’t have any proof, after all. Oh, whoops.” The emperor looked as though he realized he’d made a mistake. “While I have no particular reason to hide it, I suppose I don’t have any reason to go out of my way to explain things either. Pardon me. It’s just casual conversation.”

“You call that casual conversation?”

“Yes. As I said at the start, I really did invite you here to thank you. I’m the one who asked you to deal with the revolt. If I had just dismissed you after a job well done, people would start to question my character. Not even the emperor has the right to act like that. You’ll be granted a proper reward.”

“Amyu was the one you summoned. There’s no reason to call me here alone.”

“That’s true, but you seem to be those girls’ leader, so I didn’t think there was any harm in it. I don’t imagine they’re eager to come back and see me again,” the emperor joked self-deprecatingly.

None of his words or gestures ever inspired tension in others. It was as if you could instinctively sense that he wasn’t someone to be feared, and you found yourself accepting his words without question. That was precisely what made him so frightening.

“Still, I suppose I should’ve summoned Amyu. Calling you here alone was frankly for my own convenience. There’s something I wanted to ask you, and I thought it might be troublesome if others were to find out.”

“What did you want to ask me?”

“Oh, it’s nothing serious,” the emperor said, once again wearing his impossible smile. A smile so utterly ordinary that anyone living in a world of schemes, wealth, violence, and bitter rivalries—the world of politics—should have long since abandoned it.

“You’re the Demon Lord, aren’t you?”

Extra Story: A Mountain Veiled in White Clouds

“Was I born to play?

Was I born to frolic?

As I hear the children playing,

Even my body—”

A man was singing deep inside a mansion, late at night. The chamber, which should have been swallowed by darkness, was lit only by the faint glow of talismans floating here and there.

To some, it would’ve been an eerie sight, yet the man nevertheless poured his entire being into the song. No drums or flutes accompanied him—only his impassioned voice filled the air. When he finally finished singing, he remained standing with his eyes closed as if savoring the reverberation of his own beautiful voice.

“Heh, silence. So moved you’re at a loss for words?”

“Don’t be stupid. Everyone besides us drank until they passed out.”

A weary voice answered him, and the man opened his eyes. The room before him was a complete mess. Empty sake bottles and cups were scattered across the floor. People also lay strewn about, some half naked, sleeping in undignified heaps. It was the typical scene at the end of a banquet. The man was no exception—he, too, was thoroughly intoxicated.

“Guess you’re the only one who gets the honor of hearing my singing tonight, Haruyoshi. Heh, singing for a single friend’s not a bad feeling.”

“You say that as if it weren’t for your own pleasure. Do you have any idea how many times I’ve had to receive that so-called honor?” the mansion’s owner, a man in a kariginu robe, said exasperatedly.

His name was Haruyoshi Kuga. Currently independent, he was hailed as the most powerful exorcist in history. Though publicly feared by many, he was surprisingly caring and attentive. The people gathered on this night knew that side of him well, and as such, didn’t bother trying to maintain appearances.

“Ha ha ha. Don’t be like that.” The man got up and sat next to Haruyoshi.

Haruyoshi wasn’t the only one awake because he particularly wanted to listen to the man’s singing. He simply wasn’t very susceptible to alcohol. In addition, as the owner of the mansion, cleaning up was his job. The other man was naturally aware of that, but he wasn’t bothered. He had a place to sing and somebody who would listen. That was enough. He loved singing more than anything else.

“My throat hurts. Too much singing, I guess. I think that’s enough booze for tonight.”

“You really don’t know how to limit yourself, Masahito,” Haruyoshi said, offering genuine advice. “Enough with your imayou song obsession. Given your status, you’re just going to annoy the people around you.”

“Ha ha ha!” The man named Masahito gave a confident laugh. “No need to worry about that. Everyone’s already fed up with me.” He shook a bottle that still held a little sake, as if reluctant to let it go. “I’m fine just being Masahito.”

Masahito didn’t have a family name. Not because he was a commoner, but because he was of the status to give such names to others. The current emperor was his half brother, and the cloistered emperor who held real power despite his retirement was his father. Masahito was a member of the imperial family. And yet here he was, in a room of a mansion built in some remote corner of the land, drinking through the night with dubious companions of uncertain standing, shouting his voice hoarse. It was obvious why people were fed up with him. To the rest of the world, he was a foolish prince obsessed with imayou songs. His father, brothers, and likely even his more compatible son had all given up on him.

“Father never intended to let me inherit the throne from the start. If I’m not going to have any part in the succession, then it’s only fitting for one of noble birth to devote himself to culture and the arts instead, don’t you think?”

“You call imayou culture? You might have a point if you played an instrument or wrote poetry.”

“What’s your problem?” Masahito said, offended. “Imayou’s a part of culture too.”

Imayou were popular songs beloved mainly by the common people. It wasn’t unusual for members of the imperial family to appreciate the arts and learn instruments, but because imayou was commoner music, it wasn’t considered a pursuit fit for royalty. And even if he enjoyed it, there was a limit to how far his appreciation should go.

“Even if I agree with that for the sake of argument, what you have is an obsession,” Haruyoshi said, a doubtful look on his face. “Didn’t you say you once sang so much you ended up coughing up blood?”

“Heh, sure did. That joke’s always a hit.”

“That’s not funny. I can’t believe you.”

“Can’t you at least appreciate the effort I put in?”

“I suppose I’ll give you that.”

Masahito was certainly a skilled singer. Even Haruyoshi’s friends, before they’d drunk themselves to sleep, had been captivated by his performance. His passion had truly earned him the title of imayou fanatic. His level of skill came from relentless practice. The sheer number of hours he spent singing was enough to make anyone proficient.

“You haven’t been singing all night at Tanaka Palace, have you?” Haruyoshi asked.

“I do have some sense. It may be my home, but I have respect for the other people living there. I’ve only done it occasionally.”

“Give me a break.”

“Just once or twice. It’s difficult to invite geisha or dancers given my brother’s station, so I usually host imayou performances elsewhere. Besides, my brother holds poetry contests, so I don’t see the harm.”

“Poetry doesn’t keep people up all night. Don’t act like they’re the same.” Haruyoshi sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. “Try not to give the boy too much trouble.”

The “boy” in question was Masahito’s older brother, the now-retired Emperor Akihito. Since Masahito’s mother passed away, he had been living in Tanaka Palace with Akihito.

“Say, Haruyoshi. There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

“What is it?”

“Why do you call my brother ‘boy’ like he’s a child? He’s eight years older than I am.”

A slightly pained look washed over Haruyoshi’s face. “It’s just a matter of when I met you. You only started coming here recently, but I first spoke with that boy when he had just become emperor. He must have been only six or seven years old.” Akihito had become emperor at the age of five, then retired at twenty-three. It was all according to the will of his father, the current cloistered emperor, Munehito. “I just still remember him from back then.”

“It’s been almost thirty years already.”

“That isn’t very long to me.”

“I guess,” Masahito mumbled.

“If I could have, I would’ve taken him as a disciple. Not just because he was a good kid, but because he had enough cursed energy to excel as a sorcerer. I wonder if he would’ve agreed had he been born to a different family.”

Haruyoshi occasionally took on sorcery disciples. Temperament and talent were factors, but they were also generally abandoned by their parents, orphaned, or disowned—children in pitiful conditions. Back when Akihito had been emperor, he had fit the conditions perfectly.

“My brother’s a good person,” Masahito mumbled. “When I was feeling down after my mother passed away, he asked if I wanted to come live with him. He might be a bit too kind, but no matter how harsh his circumstances, I doubt he would’ve relinquished the throne and joined the commoners in the streets.”

“Yeah. So don’t take advantage of him and let him spoil you.”

“Why don’t you visit him anymore, Haruyoshi?”

Haruyoshi didn’t answer the sudden question.

“I understand that, given his position, visiting the most powerful exorcist’s estate would make it seem like he was plotting something, but surely there’s no harm in you visiting him. You used to be so close. Why have you been avoiding him?”

“No real reason. It’s just a little awkward,” Haruyoshi muttered uncomfortably. “In the end, I couldn’t do anything to help him.”

“That’s not true. I’m sure just having a friend who didn’t care about his status brought him some comfort. If anything, you were too arrogant in thinking you had to help the pitiful emperor, Haruyoshi. My brother’s life isn’t your responsibility.”

“I know,” said Haruyoshi, his voice thick with sorrow. “It’s a matter of my own feelings.”

A faintly melancholic silence settled over the room.

“The world has things that are beyond our control.”

“You’ve got that right. There are too many things even sorcery can’t fix.” The two shared a bitter smile.

“And it’s those feelings that imayou is all about. What do you say, Haruyoshi? Care to join me for a verse?”

“No thanks. I’m no good at singing.” Haruyoshi waved his hand and sighed. “It’s almost morning. We’ve been talking for too long.”

Masahito looked out the window and found that it was still quite dark. Nonetheless, he suspected Haruyoshi was correct.

“You should take a nap until your escort arrives.”

“You’re probably right.” Masahito acted as though he was thinking it over, but he had no intention of actually doing so. Then he pulled a small box out of his pocket as if he had just remembered it. “That reminds me, I had something I wanted to talk to you about, Haruyoshi.”

“What is it?” Haruyoshi asked, raising an eyebrow.

“There’s something I wanna lay to rest.” Masahito pulled something out of the box and handed it to Haruyoshi. “This.” Haruyoshi grabbed it and held it in front of his eyes.

“A ring?”

“Around ten years ago, a merchant who claimed to have come from China was selling it. I gave in to my curiosity and bought the ring, then completely forgot about it. I happened to find it again the other day. Since I no longer had anyone to give it to, I thought I’d get rid of it, but then I started to worry that it might be some sort of cursed object.”

“There’s a lot I’d like to say about that, but continue.”

“Some cursed objects come back when you throw them away and cause disaster, right? I’d just like to make sure it doesn’t cause me any trouble, so I wanted to ask if you had any safe ways of disposing of it.”

“I want to know why you bought something so shady to begin with.” Haruyoshi looked at the ring for a moment. “I don’t feel any power coming from it,” he finally said. “It’s not a cursed object. You can throw it away however you want.”

“You need to give me more than that to work with,” Masahito objected, his face completely serious. “What if something happens, however unlikely it is?”

“I really don’t think—”

“You can never be too careful.”

“Seriously?” Haruyoshi looked annoyed, but Masahito just pointed at the ring.

“You see that engraving? Is that not some kind of spell?”

“This? Hmm...” The ring’s top was flat and had foreign letters carved into it.

“Can you read it? The merchant said the ring was from Persia, but I don’t think that’s Persian.”

“It’s not. It looks like Latin,” Haruyoshi said, lightly rubbing the ring. “Latin is widely used, so I can’t say exactly where this ring is from, but at the very least, it isn’t from Persia. This engraving isn’t a spell either.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s a prayer. The owner of this ring was a Christian. Likely a Chinese Nestorian.”

“Ah, so it was a Nestorian ware.”

Christianity wasn’t well-known in Japan at this time. People had only heard of it through books brought from China, which told of a faith practiced in the West.

“Well, if it concerns the gods, then that’s all the more reason to dispose of it properly. What should I do? Do they burn stuff like this in the West too?”

“No, I’ve never heard of that. I don’t believe they hold memorial services for objects there.”

“Then what if I dispose of it in a way related to the god it’s tied to? Like throwing it into the sea for a sea god, or burying it in the mountains for a mountain god. That sort of method is used to neutralize cursed objects a lot, isn’t it?”

“Yes, but it’s mostly a matter of the sorcerer’s feelings—it doesn’t actually serve much purpose. This also isn’t a cursed object to begin with. In addition, the Christian God is an almighty deity, so there isn’t any natural feature associated with—” Haruyoshi suddenly cut himself off, then pondered for a moment. “Actually, now that I think about it, I’ve heard that Judaism, the faith from which Christianity originated, was initially polytheistic, much like Shinto. The almighty god Yahweh, who is worshipped in Christianity as well, was originally a god of volcanoes if I recall correctly.”

“Oh, that’s perfect,” Masahito said cheerfully. “We’ve got a fine volcano here in Japan, don’t we?”

“Huh?”

“Let’s go toss this ring into Mt. Fuji, Haruyoshi.”

“Excuse me?” Haruyoshi’s mouth hung open. “You want me to come too?”

“Absolutely. Who’s more suitable to accompany me on a trip to dispose of a holy relic than you?”

“How do you intend to get there?”

“Climbing on foot would be too much work. Let me ride your ryuu. I’ve always wanted to try it.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding,” Haruyoshi said, dumbfounded. “You think I’d summon Mizuchi for this?”

“So it’s out of the question?”

“I didn’t say that, but...”

“Please, Haruyoshi,” Masahito said with a grin. “You’re the only one I can turn to.”

“I’d advise you not to spoil him too much, Master Haruyoshi.” A high-pitched voice echoed through the room. A woman had been standing there without anyone noticing. Muttering with a sullen expression, she began tidying up the scattered flasks and cups around the room. “He may have the emperor’s blood, but treating you like some stable hand is unacceptable.”

Her skin and hair were both snow-white, and she had large eyes and a high nose. There was something inhuman about her beauty, giving her a frightening presence. Indeed, she wasn’t human at all—she was one of the ayakashi under Haruyoshi’s command. At first, Masahito had been taken aback by her, but as he’d gotten to know her, he found her speech and mannerisms to be endearing, almost like a small animal.

“Don’t be so harsh, Yuki,” Masahito said with a smile. “People feel good when their friends rely on them. Haruyoshi is no different.”

“Hrm, that’s true, but...”

“Don’t go deciding that I’m happy. Yuki, why are you agreeing with him?” Haruyoshi said with a frown.

“Ha ha ha! How about it, Haruyoshi?” Masahito asked.

“Fine,” Haruyoshi sighed. “We leave when the sun rises.”

“I thought you’d say that, my friend. Guess I’ll take a nap until then.”

◆ ◆ ◆

Mt. Fuji’s caldera burned a vivid red.

“Impressive,” Masahito muttered, looking down from Mizuchi’s back far above. From the crater flowed a lake of molten lava, with white plumes of smoke rising into the air. Even where Masahito stood, high above, he could feel the heat. It was the majesty of nature, utterly beyond the reach of human power.

“Being directly above it is a bit hot,” Haruyoshi said casually, a being far beyond such minor concerns.

It had been around five hours since they had agreed to dispose of the ring. After taking a short rest, Masahito had come to the summit of Mt. Fuji atop Haruyoshi’s ryuu. The experience of flying through the sky had been moving enough, but the sight of the crater in the morning sun was equally magnificent.

“If I fell from here, I’d sink in the lava and disappear without a trace,” Masahito said quietly, staring at the caldera.

“People don’t sink in lava. The difference in density is too great. You would float like a leaf on water.”

“Then could I survive if I hurried to the edge?”

“Not a chance. You’d catch on fire from the temperature before you ever made it. Actually, all the water in your body would boil, and you’d probably explode first.”

“Ha ha ha. How frightening.”

It was truly a land of ruin. An awe beyond words welled up within Masahito. He could almost understand why the followers of Christianity had chosen this fierce god as their supreme deity.

“In The Tale of the Bamboo Cutter, it’s said that the emperor burned an elixir of immortality here, and that’s why Mt. Fuji became an immortal mountain, burning forever. But is this fire actually eternal?” Masahito asked.

“No.” Haruyoshi shook his head. “Volcanic activity doesn’t last forever. In the distant future, this caldera will cool and harden.”

“I see.” Masahito thought it was a shame.

“Now, I apologize, but we can’t go any lower,” Haruyoshi said. “Can you throw it in from here? I know it’s a little far.”

“All right.” Masahito took the ring out of his pocket, then threw it toward the volcano. It plummeted, quickly growing so small that he could no longer see it. The lake of lava showed no change. He couldn’t even tell if the ring had actually fallen in or if it had gotten caught by the wind and blown away. Yet Masahito felt a strange sense of accomplishment. He had laid the ring to rest.

“Satisfied?”

“Yeah.” Masahito nodded, still looking down at the crater.

“Who did you originally intend to give that ring to?”

Masahito turned to look at Haruyoshi. The exorcist, known as the strongest in history, feared by countless people, was surprisingly caring and attentive. He was attuned to the emotions of those close to him.

“Yoshiko,” Masahito answered with a smile.

Yoshiko was Masahito’s wife, eleven years his senior. Ten years ago, she had fallen ill and passed away after giving birth to their son, Morihito.

“I was going to give it to her once she got better, though I’m not sure she would like such an odd gift.” Masahito doubted she would. She had often admonished him for his obsession with imayou. Receiving a Western ring would’ve just made her frown. “In the end, I never got to give it to her. I completely forgot about it until I found it on the anniversary of her passing the other day. Then I decided to lay it to rest.” Masahito paused for a moment, then looked directly at Haruyoshi. “To be honest, I could’ve done a more normal memorial. I made this selfish request because I wanted a chance to talk with you, Haruyoshi.”

“Did something happen?” Haruyoshi asked, his face stern.

“I might become emperor.”

Haruyoshi’s eyes went wide. “What do you mean? Is...” He paused for a moment. “Is the emperor unwell?”

Narihito, the current emperor, was said to have been sickly from a young age. Even royalty weren’t immune to dying young from illness.

“It’s only a rumor. Nobody knows how bad his condition truly is. But were he to pass away, the throne would likely fall to me.”

“Wait, why would you become emperor?” Haruyoshi asked, clearly confused. “It’s true that the current emperor has no children. Given your position, it wouldn’t be strange for the throne to pass to you, but if I may be blunt, your reputation isn’t exactly...”

“Morihito is a capable son,” Masahito said, cutting off Haruyoshi’s hesitant words. “My father holds him in high regard. While a dull prince obsessed with modern songs like me could never be emperor, there are many who would gladly see my son take the throne next. However, there’s no precedent for a prince remaining as such while his son ascends to the throne. It seems they intend to have me briefly serve as emperor so that my son may rule.”

“That’s ridiculous.” Astonishment was evident in Haruyoshi’s voice. “Why do something so convoluted? There’s someone else who could inherit the throne in a far more natural way. The boy’s—excuse me, Akihito’s son, Prince Shigehito. As the son of a retired emperor, he wouldn’t break with precedent. He’s also older than your son. There shouldn’t be any issues with him becoming emperor, so why...”

Masahito held his tongue, and Haruyoshi looked as though he had realized something.

“Is it to keep Akihito out of power? Does your father still believe those rumors?”

“Yes.” Casting down his eyes, Masahito nodded. “He believes that my brother isn’t his son, but the son of his grandfather, former Emperor Shirakawa.”

There was a certain rumor surrounding Akihito, Masahito’s elder brother. It was said that his true father might not have been their own father, but rather their great-grandfather, the then-retired Emperor Shirakawa, who held the real power behind the throne. Their mother, Empress Taikenmon’in, had originally been adopted by Shirakawa, yet from the beginning, his excessive affection toward her had been the subject of scandalous whispers.

Furthermore, Shirakawa doted on the young Prince Akihito with abnormal intensity. It was by his will that the boy had ascended to the throne at only five years old. The retired emperor was known to have remained vigorous even in old age. Given that, Haruyoshi had heard rumors in the imperial court that Akihito might have been his child.

“But those are just rumors. There’s no proof that’s actually the case.”

“My father doesn’t think so, Haruyoshi. That’s why he treats Akihito so harshly.”

Masahito’s father, Cloistered Emperor Munehito, had begun treating his son Akihito with disdain. He would mockingly refer to him as “my son and my uncle,” going so far as to avoid meeting him face-to-face. After Shirakawa’s death, he had even stripped Akihito of the throne, installing another of his sons by a different mother, blocking Akihito’s path to becoming Chiten no Kimi, the true holder of political power. Even with the aforementioned emperor now ill, it appeared that Munehito was still unwilling to change his mind.

“It’s a sad state of affairs. My brother did desire the position of Chiten no Kimi, but not out of a lust for power. He simply wanted to believe in our father’s love. Not only is his wish going unfulfilled, but he’s being forced to face the truth in such a cruel way.”

Haruyoshi gazed down at the crater below, his expression clouded with sorrow. Then he turned to Masahito with a wistful smile. “I suppose I should start by saying congratulations.”

“There’s nothing to celebrate. I won’t be able to enjoy imayou like I have been if I take the throne. I won’t even be able to continue living at Tanaka Palace. It’ll also cause friction between me and my brother, I’m sure. Nor will it be as easy to drink and party like we did last night. Being emperor is nothing but trouble,” Masahito said, staring off into the distance. Before him stretched a clear, blue sky.

“All things change as time flows on,” he murmured. “Human lives and their relationships. My wife passed away, as did my mother. Soon, the emperor and my father will die as well. My relationships with my brother and my son won’t be the same. Everything is impermanent. Unsung imayou songs will soon fade away. Even the fire of Mt. Fuji will eventually cool and turn to stone. Man is powerless to resist the world’s changes.”

Masahito turned to face Haruyoshi. “But you know what, Haruyoshi?” A smile appeared on his face. “That’s what makes the things that don’t change so comforting. When I imagine that there are things that existed before we were born and will continue even after we die, I feel a kind of peace. If one is remembered by an eternal being, that alone gives their birth meaning. The unchanging is what serves as everyone’s foundation. If anything in this world is capable of achieving a permanence even a volcano cannot, it could only be you, someone who has transcended humanity. Please, Haruyoshi. Be the only thing that doesn’t change.”

His expression serious, Haruyoshi remained silent for a while before a faint smile appeared on his face. “Hmm, what to do. I’d like to change for the better, you know? I once met a certain someone for the first time, and he told me I was more childish than he expected.”

“Ha ha ha, don’t hold a grudge. There’s no harm in continuing to be who you are.”

“Sure, we can say that. Now, it’s about time to head back.” Haruyoshi gently turned Mizuchi around.

“Oh, right,” Masahito said, suddenly remembering something. “I was thinking about writing a book.”

“What kind of book?”

“If I’m writing it, it’s gotta be imayou. What else?” Masahito said proudly. “Imayou songs are beloved by the common people, which means there aren’t many records of them. Nobody bothers to write down new ones, so I’ll be the one to do it. At the very least, the songs I know won’t be forgotten. It’ll probably take some time, but you’ll read it once it’s finished, won’t you?”

“If you’re writing it, it’s bound to be good,” Haruyoshi answered with a gentle smile. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“Ha ha ha, now I’m motivated. Let’s see if I can’t do a verse.” Masahito began to sing, his voice carrying far into the boundless sky.

“May your time continue

until the motes of dust, born once in a thousand years,

grow into a mountain veiled in white clouds—”

◆ ◆ ◆

The night sky blazed red above the city. Burning houses illuminated the darkness. The bizarre, piercing cries of ayakashi summoned by sorcerers on both sides rang out all around. There must have been a battle between warriors of inhuman strength, as a pagoda to the west had been cleaved in half and lay in ruin. The capital had become a battlefield.

Masahito silently took in the strife-filled air. Though he now held the title of emperor, he possessed no means to quell the chaos. He was a puppet ruler with no power of his own. Around him, his close attendants held their breath, watching the course of the battle unfold.

“Driving my uncle into a corner with rumors of treason and goading him into staging a rebellion went well enough, but it’s a bit of a gamble from here, isn’t it? Do you think we’ll succeed, Shinzei?”

“Of course, Prince Morihito.” A man in priestly garb nodded at Masahito’s son, the imperial prince. “We’ve planned this out thoroughly. Our rivals will be brought to ruin.”

Suddenly, a panicked warrior came racing into the manor.

“I-I have a report, Shinzei!”

“What is it?”

“We’ve confirmed the extermination of the kishin Sukuna in Sagano! Our sorcerers are no longer picking up Haruyoshi Kuga’s cursed energy!”

A moment later, the group erupted into cheers. The man in priestly robes turned to the young prince with a smile.

“We’ve done it, Your Highness. If Haruyoshi Kuga sided with the retired emperor’s faction, our defeat would be certain. His elimination was our only obstacle. Our victory is now assured. The retired emperor and his attendants are finished. Everything has unfolded just as you planned.”

“What are you saying?” The young prince spoke with a fearless smile. “Was it not you who eliminated Haruyoshi Kuga? Few would even think of taking the children in his mansion hostage and turning his best disciple against him, let alone be capable of carrying it out. I’ll be counting on that brilliance during my reign.” The prince laughed happily.

At only thirteen years old, Masahito’s son Morihito had already grown into a cunning schemer. Yet neither Morihito nor his adviser Shinzei knew the truth—that Haruyoshi had been friends with not only Akihito, but Masahito as well.

The sorcerer who was hailed as the strongest in history and feared by so many was, contrary to his fearsome reputation, a caring and attentive soul. He would never turn his powers on a friend. From the beginning, there had never been any possibility that he would get involved in the rebellion—a conflict between Masahito’s and Akihito’s factions.

“I see...” Masahito muttered. “So even you can die, Haruyoshi.” Nobody replied. Nobody was paying attention to Masahito. He was a half-wit prince obsessed with imayou—even becoming emperor hadn’t changed that reputation.

“I suppose there’s nothing in the world that’s immune to change. Not even someone who has transcended humanity like you.” Something had begun to shift within the man who had once found solace in the unchanging. Masahito closed his eyes. “In that case...”

† † †

Cloistered Emperor Go-Shirakawa (personal name: Masahito) is often regarded as one of the most cunning and shrewd politicians of the late Heian period. After abdicating in favor of his son, Emperor Nijou (personal name: Morihito), and beginning his cloistered rule, he repeatedly struggled for power with various political figures.

At times, he made use of the Taira clan’s strength, and when they grew too arrogant, he turned to the Minamoto to bring them down. His skill in manipulating the samurai led some to draw comparisons to the final days of his elder brother, the retired Emperor Sutoku (personal name: Akihito), and to call him Japan’s greatest tengu—a master deceiver.

Although history remembers Cloistered Emperor Go-Shirakawa as a man who survived the chaos of the late Heian era through sheer cleverness, that was not always his reputation. In fact, the contemporary view of him was quite the opposite. He was derided as a half-wit prince obsessed with imayou songs, and a foolish ruler lacking in both literary and martial prowess. These assessments were, by and large, true—Go-Shirakawa had not been a particularly noteworthy man during his youth.

What changed him? The author believes it was the Hougen Rebellion, triggered by the death of Cloistered Emperor Toba (personal name: Munehito). This conflict—one of the largest in the Heian period, which left a third of the capital in ashes—is often described in textbooks as a power struggle between the reigning emperor and the retired emperor. Yet the reality was somewhat different.

To become Chiten no Kimi, the one who held true power in the system of cloistered rule, it was necessary not only to be a retired emperor, but to have one’s own child on the throne. For this reason, Go-Shirakawa’s faction sought to put Prince Morihito on the throne, while Sutoku’s faction wanted his son, Prince Shigehito, on the throne. The Hougen Rebellion was fought over whose son would take the throne, thus giving them power as cloistered emperor.

Emperor Go-Shirakawa lost two people close to him in this conflict. The first was his enemy, his older brother, retired Emperor Sutoku. The other was Haruyoshi Kuga, the great exorcist of the Heian era.

Though it might seem an unlikely connection, Go-Shirakawa and Haruyoshi were in fact acquainted. Evidence of their association appears both in Haruyoshi’s diaries and in parts of Go-Shirakawa’s Ryoujin Hishou, a twenty-volume anthology of imayou songs compiled by the emperor himself, who was a passionate enthusiast of the genre. Records indicate that Go-Shirakawa frequently attended the banquets held at Haruyoshi’s residence, suggesting that the two were likely close enough to be called friends.

At the same time, Haruyoshi had long maintained ties with retired Emperor Sutoku as well. This led Go-Shirakawa’s faction to view him as a threat, resulting in Haruyoshi losing his life in a surprise attack. What Go-Shirakawa, then largely a puppet ruler, felt during this turmoil remains unknown. No surviving records shed light on his thoughts at the time.

However, Shinzei, the monk who is believed to have been the chief instigator behind the murder of Haruyoshi Kuga, was later beheaded during the Heiji Rebellion. In addition, Emperor Nijou died young of illness without ever truly grasping power for himself. Nor did it end there—nearly all the leading figures involved in the conflict met an untimely end or fell from power, vanishing from the stage of history. Even the mighty Taira clan, founded by Taira no Kiyomori, who had once fought alongside Go-Shirakawa’s faction, was eventually destroyed by Go-Shirakawa’s own hand.

Most dismiss this as mere coincidence, but the author does not. During his lifetime, the monk Shinzei described Cloistered Emperor Go-Shirakawa in the following words—

“If His Majesty sets his heart upon accomplishing something, he will see it done, regardless of any human law or restraint.”

Following the Hougen Rebellion, despite his at times forceful and improvised methods, Cloistered Emperor Go-Shirakawa became a statesman who always carried out what he had decided upon. It was as though he truly believed there was nothing in the world he could not change. Ironically, the cause of that belief might well have been the death of his friend, the immortal exorcist Haruyoshi Kuga.