“Oh, pardon me.” The man wearing goggles raised one hand and grinned. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but you folks hadn’t noticed me. I thought it would be wrong of me to just keep quiet, so I took it upon myself to subtly insert myself into your little conversation.”

“No...” Kuzaku hurriedly had Shihoru get behind him, putting his hand on the hilt of his black blade. “That wasn’t subtle at all, you know? Clearly. I don’t even know who you are.”

“Indeed. You speak the truth.” The man wearing goggles scratched his head and frowned. “Then allow me to say this, if I meant to do you harm, I would have already done so. I don’t mean to mock you, but you were wide open. Even with my paltry skills, I could have easily dispatched you.”

Kuzaku had to acknowledge he was right. He had been absorbed in their conversation, and hadn’t been paying enough attention. He was supposed to be here as Shihoru’s bodyguard, too. How pathetic.

Even so, if they were to fight straight up, it was questionable whether he could win against this man. Kuzaku still hadn’t drawn his sword. He couldn’t. All reasoning aside, he could sense it. If he drew his weapon, he’d be in serious trouble.

“We’re volunteer soldiers from Alterna,” Kuzaku said. “Does that mean anything to you? As an explanation?”

“Indeed,” said the man. “You are volunteer soldiers with the Arabakia Frontier Army, yes? I know them. I have acquaintances who are volunteer soldiers, too.”

“I’m Kuzaku,” Kuzaku said. Shihoru followed suit, saying, “I’m Shihoru...” in a quiet voice.

“I’m Katsuharu.” The man raised his goggles up to his forehead, squinting. “If I say I’m from the village, would you understand what I mean? We simply call it ‘the village,’ but outsiders refer to it as the Hidden Village.”

“...The Hidden Village,” Shihoru whispered. It seemed like she had some idea what he meant.

Kuzaku felt like he might have heard of it, or might not have, he wasn’t really sure, but he could tell that it was a place where humans like Katsuharu lived, at least.

Which meant what?

“Huh? What’s that mean?” Kuzaku cocked his head to the side. “I don’t really get it...”

“It means we’re not enemies,” said Shihoru. “The Kingdom of Arabakia, which Alterna belongs to, and the Hidden Village aren’t hostile to one another,” Shihoru explained in a whisper. “Though we aren’t exactly friendly with them, either... You might guess it from the name, but we don’t know exactly where the Hidden Village is...”

“So that’s why it’s a hidden village?” Kuzaku asked. “Huh... So, Katsuharu-san is from there, and... what does that mean? Uh...”

“You two are so easygoing. That’s nice.” Katsuharu sat down on the ground and rubbed his nose. He’d said Kuzaku and Shihoru were easygoing, but he was projecting a pretty easygoing atmosphere himself. Then again, it still felt like he might draw his weapon at any moment. He was a mysterious man. “That said, I do find it a little odd coming across two volunteer soldiers in a place like this. Could it be that the two of you just returned from the world that lies beyond that hole?”

“...You know about Darunggar?” Shihoru asked hesitantly.

“The name Darunggar isn’t familiar to me,” said Katsuharu. “However, some in the village are aware that that hole leads to another world. This place, Thousand Valley, is like our backyard, you see.”

“Thousand Valley...” Kuzaku looked out into the fog hanging over the area. He had a sudden realization. “Wait, if this is your backyard, you know the paths here? Right? The way to Alterna, too?”

“Indeed. I have made a number of trips to Alterna myself, after all.”

“Then you could show us the way!” Kuzaku cried. “Oh, no, I know I shouldn’t be asking you for a favor out of nowhere. You have no obligation to help us.”

“As you say, I have no obligation to,” Katsuharu said. “Not now, at least. We’ve just met, after all. However, I sense a certain kismet in our meeting here, and once we come to know one another better, I might feel obliged to.”

“By which you mean...?” Kuzaku asked.

“Perhaps I was too indirect.” Katsuharu hit himself in the head. “The truth is, I happen to be searching for someone. Could you help me, perhaps? When my business is finished, I’ll show you to the village. You must be exhausted from your travels, no? Why not rest at the village?”

“...I think he’s a little suspicious,” Shihoru whispered in Kuzaku’s ear. “Isn’t he being a little too generous when he doesn’t owe us anything? Besides, if he shows us the way there, we’d find out where the village is...”

“I can hear you.” Katsuharu pulled on his earlobe and smiled wryly at them. “I’ve got a good pair of ears on me, you see. Well, I suppose your caution is warranted. However, you’ve misunderstood one thing.”

Could they trust him? Kuzaku couldn’t decide.

“...What are we misunderstanding?” he asked cautiously.

“It’s outsiders that call it the Hidden Village, not us. I told you that, didn’t I? We relocate the village every year, sometimes more than once in the same year. Most of the villages are, well, not accepting of outsiders, you could say, but it’s not as if the gates are closed to strangers. As a matter of fact, you people must have heard of the volunteer soldier called Soma, right? He was recognized as a samurai by the four samurai houses.”

“Yeah...” said Kuzaku. “We’re technically Soma-san’s comrades...? Well, we’re in the same clan.”

“Oh, are you indeed? Then you must be highly capable.”

Kuzaku and Shihoru looked at one another despite themselves. How should they respond to that?

While Kuzaku was still confused about what to do, Shihoru spoke up. “If only that were true. We still have a long way to go.”

“How very humble of you to say that.” Katsuharu was grinning.

Somehow, he had completely seen through their skill level, and he was teasing them based on that knowledge. That was what it felt like. But it didn’t come across as nasty, and they really were inexperienced, so Kuzaku couldn’t get mad at him for it. Kuzaku consulted with Shihoru in a whisper, knowing full well that Katsuharu would overhear, then decided to fill him in on their situation.

“Katsuharu-san, we’ve got other people with us, too,” Kuzaku said. “Four of them. Two left scouting earlier, and the other two went out looking for them when they didn’t come back. So, we were left here waiting.”

“In that case...” Katsuharu’s expression clouded slightly. “It may be that your friends have already gotten caught up in things.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Kuzaku asked.

“Where do I even begin? To make it simple, there are troubles going on. My adorable niece has been caught up in it, so I can’t ignore it. She would be the one I’m looking for. Ahhh, this is such a hassle.” Katsuharu lowered his goggles, fixed their position, and then stood up. “You two come with me. I’ll explain more along the way. Or would you rather stay and wait for your companions? Either way, I’ll be going.”

“...Maybe we should go with him,” Shihoru said.

If she said so—well, it was really that Kuzaku couldn’t make a decision, so he couldn’t possibly object.

Katsuharu led the way, of course, with Shihoru and Kuzaku behind him as they advanced through the fog. It was strangely easy to walk. Katsuharu seemed to be choosing the spots with the best footing. He’d said this was his backyard, and it was clear he hadn’t just been saying that.

“Um, Katsuharu-san,” Kuzaku said. “Now that I think of it, I heard what sounded like wolves howling.”

“Forgan’s beasts, no doubt.” Katsuharu wasn’t looking around. He just walked in a single direction.

“Are they bad news?” Kuzaku asked.

“There’s this guy called Jumbo, you see,” Katsuharu said. “Forgan is the faction he leads.”

“Huh? What do a faction of orcs and those beasts have to do with one another?” Kuzaku asked.

“Keep your voice down.” Katsuharu crouched and put his hand on the hilt of his sword.

Shihoru ducked her head and held her breath. It looked like Kuzaku would be best advised to ready himself and stay put, too.

For the next two, three minutes, he stayed there and didn’t move a muscle. It got harder and harder. But, in Kuzaku’s case, if he moved about carelessly, his equipment was guaranteed to make noise. Until he was told it was okay, he’d have to put up with it.

Still, can we go yet? he wondered.

Instead of thinking things like that, he should have been scanning the area, and thinking about what he’d do if something happened, as well as about what he should be doing.

I’m taking this too lightly. I need to reflect on that. If I keep on going like this, I’ll never catch up to Haruhiro and the others. But I can’t see anything through the fog, I don’t really hear anything, and if enemies attack then protecting Shihoru is about all I can do, so... can we go yet?

“There was a nyaa,” Katsuharu said in a low voice.

“...A nyaa?” Shihoru asked.

“Yeah. Have you people never heard of them? They’re animals. A wild nyaa hardly ever shows itself to people. The village’s onmitsu spies raise them, but that wasn’t what that one was. That was likely one of Forgan’s trained nyaas.”

The more he listened, the funnier the word sounded. Nyaa. It was just too cute. Like, a pet nyaa. No, this was no time for laughing. It was probably a serious matter. Kuzaku cleared his throat.

“But I don’t see anything that looks like that, and I don’t sense it, either,” he said.

“It was faint, but I heard a slight meowing earlier,” Katsuharu told them. “It went nyaa. It’s gone now. It doesn’t seem to have noticed us. Let’s hurry onward.”

If Katsuharu says so, that’s probably how it is, thought Kuzaku. It really is relaxing to just do as someone tells you. Obviously, it’s easier, too. Having to think for yourself, that’s hard. Haruhiro is amazing, seriously.

Honestly, by the time he noticed he was doing whatever Katsuhiro told him, he was a little exasperated with himself for getting used to that situation so quickly.

“It’s like I’m a dog,” Kuzaku murmured.

“True.” Shihoru who was ahead of him giggled. “You do have a dog-like quality, Kuzaku-kun.”

“Oh, you heard that? Huh. Am I really that dog-like? Hrmm. Well, I’m not cat-like, I guess. Are you more of a dog person or a cat person, Shihoru-san?”

“...I prefer dogs, I guess.”

“Oh? Really?”

“Huh...? Oh, i-it’s not anything to do with you being dog-like...”

“Nah, I’m not going to misunderstand you like that, don’t worry,” Kuzaku told her. “I’ll bet you don’t even look at me as a man. I mean, I’m pretty sure all the girls in our group are that way...”

“...I wouldn’t say that,” Shihoru said.

“Nah, I’m sure of it. Like, considering how things went... No, no, I shouldn’t talk like this.”

“How what went...? Now you’ve got me curious.”

“Yeah, I guess you would be,” Kuzaku said. “If I say this much, then try to keep it a secret, would you? You would, right? ...Well, you know how it is. I mean... I confessed to Merry, and got shot down hard.”

“I thought so,” Shihoru said.

“Urgh. You’d noticed...?”

“Just vaguely, though.”

“Well, that’s embarrassing. But facts are facts, so what can you do? In the end, we decided to stay just comrades.”

“It’s tough, huh.” Shihoru nodded. “Knowing how close you can get to people. Merry’s the serious sort, and very well-organized, after all.”

“I’m over it now, though. I’m trying to put it behind me. But I’m worried about Merry. I mean, the one with her is Ranta-kun...”

“When I hear the two of you talk,” Katsuharu said, laughing and pretending to scratch himself all over, “it makes me feel ticklish.”

“S-Sorry...” Shihoru’s head shrunk into her body.

“It’s nothing to apologize for,” Katsuharu said. “I was like that, too, back in the day. It was a long time ago, but this brings the memories flooding back. That aside...”

Katsuharu came to a halt. He crouched, touching the ground.

“Looks like something happened here. These footprints are likely human. From two, maybe three people. ...Two, I’d say. These two people were probably surrounded by a pack of wolves, and then... there are no signs of a struggle. The two walked off on their own after that. They headed towards the southwest. Hopefully we can follow the trail...”

It really had ended by the time Moyugi had counted to eight.

Well, since Moyugi had been doing the counting himself, and he’d been able to adjust the length of time as needed, it didn’t seem entirely fair, but still.

“Hrmm...” The bald man wearing sunglasses let out a low groan, stabbed his massive mushroom sword into the ground, and then twisted his head side to side slowly. “Indeed.”

“Good work.” Kuro appeared out of nowhere, slapping the sunglasses-wearing bald man on the shoulder. “Kajita.”

The sunglasses-wearing bald man he called Kajita smiled and gave him a thumbs-up.

Moira slowly rose up. Her four-armed enemy didn’t so much as twitch. Or rather, it was an unrecognizable mess. Enemy or not, had she really had to mutilate the body that badly?

Or was that just how demons were? Would Ranta’s Zodiac-kun act like that eventually?

Haruhiro grimaced at that unpleasant thought.

“Um...” Haruhiro shook his head. “This—I don’t know what it’s called, the four-armed enemy... what is it?”

“What? You don’t know?” Kuro said with an exaggerated look of exasperation. “It’s an undead, of course. The ones with four arms are called double arms. Or rather, that’s what they call themselves.”

“This is an undead...” Haruhiro rubbed his throat.

The one Moira had killed was destroyed beyond recognition, so he looked through the other bodies to find one, and—there it was. Here, there, everywhere, all of the non-orcs must have been undead.

The undead weren’t unlike humans. They were more or less humanoid, but the ones called double arms had four arms, and there were others that had two arms that were oddly long, or they had extremely long torsos with short legs, or really big butts, or strangely large heads. Also, they had very little exposed skin. Their bodies were covered in cloth, leather, or metal, and the rare bits of flesh that peaked through were horribly blackened, or brown, or grey, or pale blue.

Another difference between them and the orcs was that there was no blood flowing from their wounds. Instead, an unsettling green mucus seemed to be leaking out.

“Huh...” Yume hesitantly walked over and crouched next to the undead’s corpse. “Listen, Yume, she’s got this one thing she’s been wonderin’ about for a while now.”

“Sure.” Kuro walked over and crouched down next to Yume. “Ask away. Though, if I don’t know the answer, all I can do is lie to you.”

“If you’re gonna lie, tell Yume it’s a lie, okay, so she doesn’t go believin’ you, okay?”

“Wah ha ha!” Kuro laughed. “Sure, sure. You’ve got it. I’ll do that.”

“Listen, undead, they’re dead that un, right?”

“Huh? What, what? Dead that un? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Like, they’re dead that are un, right? Un is un! Right?”

“Wah ha ha!” Kuro cackled. “That’s a funny joke, but I have no idea what you mean, okay? You know what, you’re cute. Like some kind of animal.”

“Murrgh! Yume, she’s an animal, but she’s human, okay! Oh, but humans’re animals, too.”

“Ha ha! What are you, the pet every family wants? Wahahahaha!” Kuro hugged Yume’s head close to him and patted it like crazy. “Hey, Moyugi, Kajita, can I keep her?”

“When it comes time to feed her, be sure you do it yourself.” Moyugi’s eyes had a creepy glint in them.

Kajita grinned and gave him a thumbs-up. “Indeed.”

“Basically...” Since this was going nowhere, Haruhiro did his best to interpret for her. “...with ‘dead’ referring to death, and ‘un-’being a negating prefix, I think she wants to say, aren’t undead not supposed to die?”

“Haru-kun, that’s it!” Yume brushed Kuro’s hand away. “Geez! Now you’ve gone and fussed Yume’s hair up!”

“...Yume, I don’t think fussed is the word you’re looking for...”

“Hoh? Tussed? Hussed? Oh, Yume doesn’t know anymore.”

“Heh heh heh...” Kuro was doubled over, holding his sides. “Oh, damn. My sides. You’re killing me here, seriously. Okay, okay. I get what you meant. I see. Sure. You’re right. If you write it out in kanji, they’re the ‘without death race,’ but these guys, they die pretty easily.”

Kanji? Haruhiro thought, startled. Oh, right, kanji. If you write it in kanji—Wait, huh...?

I know what kanji are. They’re written characters. They’re used here in Grimgar, too. But there’s something... Yeah, that’s right. Kanji?

I don’t think anyone calls them kanji, do they?

They’re one type of written character, and I’ve only heard them called ideographs. They might have a name, but I’ve never heard it. Even though they’re definitely kanji.

“What’s wrong, junior?” Kuro asked him.

When Haruhiro looked up, he saw Kuro had a stupid grin on his face, but there was a sharp glint in his eye.

“Is something bothering you? Speak up.”

“...No.” Haruhiro shook his head. “It’s nothing.”

“Oh, yeah?” Kuro took a short breath, then gestured towards the dead undead bodies with his chin. “Well, whatever. So, back to the undead. They’ve got this thing called a core, and it’s thought that they’ll die if you bust it. The core is usually inside the head, so as long as they’re intact from the neck up, they’ll round up enough dead body parts to revive themselves. Weird, huh?”

“It’s only speculated?” Haruhiro raised his eyebrows. “Has it not been properly confirmed? That this core, or whatever it is, exists?”

“Exactly. The core hasn’t been discovered,” Moyugi said smoothly. “The undead are said to be a race that was initially created by the No-Life King’s curse. The fact of the matter is, even now, if a person is left lying around after their life functions are terminated, they’ll eventually begin to move because of that curse. It’s not limited to people, though. We know that not only elves, dwarves, orcs, goblins, kobolds, centaurs, and gnomes, the major sentient races, turn into what we call zombies three to five days after their deaths, but a number of other intelligent creatures do, too. However, though they can turn into zombies, they can’t become undead. Why is that?

“There are those who theorize that it has to do with the No-Life King being gone from this world, but whatever the case, his curse is still functioning. Furthermore, when the No-Life King was still around, the undead were born from that curse. Based on that, I theorize that the so-called core is not a thing inside the undead, but that it’s a thing that has come to reside inside them in some form. When that form breaks, they cease to be undead. In other words...”

“This is long.” Kajita gave a thumbs-up, and then turned it into a thumbs-down. “Too damn long.”

Moyugi clicked his tongue. “Well, let’s leave it at that, then. We’ve been talking too long. My operation, it goes without saying, is still ongoing. Come on, we’re moving on to the next stage. Come on!”

“Huh...?” Haruhiro and Yume exchanged glances.

Yume had been spacing out. To tell the truth, so had Haruhiro.

“What do you mean, next?” he asked.

“Guess we should go.” Kuro stood up, stretching and cracking his fingers. “Two more left. This is tough on an old man like me.”

Kajita shouldered his massive mushroom sword as if it was light. “Indeed.”

“No, Kajita, I know you don’t look it, but you’re waaaay younger than me, okay? This is easy for you, I’ll bet. It’s a piece of cake, right?” Kajita gave him a silent thumbs-up.

Moyugi had already gone far ahead with Moira.

“Two more...” Haruhiro walked on unsteady legs. “I guess we’ll have to finish them quickly?”

Was that okay? Or wasn’t it? He didn’t really know anymore.

The fog was still thick, and deep.

Haruhiro felt like he was starting to grasp their situation. This woman was Arara, and Arnold was apparently the double arm’s name. Arara had said something like, This is for Tatsuru-sama! when she’d attacked Arnold. He didn’t know if this Tatsuru-sama was a relative of hers, or what, but it was clear he had been someone important to her. Arnold had killed him. Arara was seeking vengeance.

The short man with his hair standing on end was probably Rock. Rock seemed to be helping her for some reason.

“So it’s gonna be a joint project between me and Arara, huh?” Rock called. “Ha ha! Well, that’ll be fun for me!”

“Don’t talk nonsense!”

“I’m not kidding, I’m serious here!”

“Then that’s even more reason!”

Though they were arguing, Rock and Arara were in sync as they unleashed a fierce attack. They rained blows on Arnold from both sides in rapid succession, so the double arm didn’t have a lot of leeway to work with. He was stuck on the defensive, and his moves were clearly becoming more chaotic.

“Ha ha ha ha!” Rock got behind Arnold. “This is after I went to all that trouble to fight you one-on-one!”

At the last possible moment, Arnold managed to knock back Rock’s sword with one of his katanas.

Instantly, Arara cried, “Yahhhhhhhhhh!” and thrust from directly in front of him.

While Arnold twisted his head to avoid it, he also used two katanas to deflect it at the same time. If he had only dodged, Arara would surely have used a second thrust to inflict a severe wound on Arnold. Having her katana knocked aside by two katanas threw Arara off balance, but Rock was there.

When Arnold started to turn, Rock launched a combo attack on him. “Rah, rah, rah, rah, rah, rah, rah, rah, rah, rah, rah, rah, rahhhh!”

It hit Arnold when he wasn’t in a very good stance. He managed to block with his four katanas up until around the sixth or seventh blow. He missed the one after that, leaving Arnold with a shallow wound on one of his arms. Maybe that made him panic, because he rolled forward as if he had tripped on something.

Now, thought Haruhiro. You can do this. Right there. Get him.

No matter how he looked at it, this was the perfect chance. Rock was about to spring on Arnold, too, but for some reason he stopped himself. Not only that, he leapt backwards. “Arara!”

Arara inhaled sharply. Maybe she had sensed something. Instead of falling straight backwards, she tried to move diagonally as she distanced herself from Arnold. It was hard to think she’d been too slow. Arara had reacted quickly. But, still, she didn’t make it in time.

In an instant, Arnold transformed into a whirlwind.

That wasn’t even a metaphor. When Arnold suddenly leapt spinning into the air, he did, in fact, seem like a little whirlwind, and he tore into Arara’s back with the force of one. Having taken a wound at least deep enough to draw blood, Arara collapsed to the ground. If Rock hadn’t scooped her up as he fled, who knows what might have happened. Arara might have been chopped up by Arnold’s four katanas.

“Retreat!” Rock bellowed as he ran. “Arara’s down! Retreat!”

“KYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY.”

It was a noise like miasma violently gushing forth from the bowels of the earth to make all things rot away. Was that a voice?

Arnold had his head thrown back, and his arms spread wide. Was he coming? Or wasn’t he? Of course he was coming.

Haruhiro grabbed Yume’s arm and took off running. Even if he hadn’t taken her arm, all it would have taken was one word. That was all it would have taken, but, for some reason, his voice wouldn’t come out. He felt like it would be best if it didn’t.

For now, he had to shut up and run. Run for it. He had to put as much distance as he could between them and this place, and that guy, Arnold, and he needed to do it as fast as possible.

Don’t look back, he warned himself. If you’ve got time to do that, work your legs harder.

Yume seemed to agree with Haruhiro. They were almost racing to see who could flee the fastest.

Soon, Kajita’s back came into view. Kajita was running for it, too.

For now, let’s follow Kajita, decided Haruhiro. We’ll run as far as we can. To the ends of the earth, if we have to.

It was run or die.

He’d kill them for sure.

Arnold. That undead. That double arm was dangerous.

Haruhiro prayed that Arnold hadn’t noticed Yume and him. If Arnold wasn’t looking for them, they might make it somehow. But, if he was, running might not do them any good. They could struggle all they wanted, but he’d still catch them and cut them down.

Haruhiro was already winded. His throat, his chest, and his sides were all screaming out in pain. Even so, he didn’t slow down. Stopping for a break was out of the question.

“Fwah...” Yume collapsed.

Haruhiro immediately dragged her to her feet.

When he glanced around, he saw that Kajita had stopped and was looking to the rear. He turned to them, and gave them the thumbs-up.

It’s safe now. Was that what it meant? Could they trust that?

Haruhiro wasn’t sure, but he must have run out of steam, because his body felt like it had lost all its bones. He was all limp. It might not have been completely impossible, but he didn’t think he could run any more.

He’d made Yume stand up for a moment, but she’d slumped down again right there.

“Th... Th-That sure was scary...” Yume said.

As the leader, Haruhiro wanted to put up a false front of bravado. He couldn’t.

“I-It sure was...”

Yeah, this was no good.

It’s no good, Haruhiro thought. If I relax, my mind goes blank. I need to think, but nothing comes to mind. Besides, think? About what? Ranta stabbed us in the back. We don’t know if Merry is safe or not. No, Ranta was saying she belongs to him. That means she’s still alive. I’d like to think that. It’s safe to assume she’s alive, I guess?

Setting aside the question of whether she was fine or not, Merry hadn’t been killed. That being the case, whether Ranta told them to or not, their party had to take her back. They had to save her.

Ranta seemed to have joined Forgan. Merry must have been taken prisoner by them. Hopefully she wasn’t being treated too badly.

...Or was she? It was hard to be optimistic. There was that human, Takasagi, with them for some reason, but their boss was an orc named Jumbo.

They were an independent, multi-racial group mainly consisting of orcs and undead. It went without saying that orcs and undead were the enemies of humanity. Despite that, Takasagi and Ranta were working with them.

Haruhiro couldn’t figure them out, but it was hard to imagine they were treating Merry with the proper respect. If anything, it seemed like it wouldn’t take much for them to get rough with her. Was this just Haruhiro’s prejudice? Really, he hoped it was. They might be a surprisingly gentlemanly and unexpectedly good gang, one that wouldn’t hurt Merry or do anything untoward to her. If they weren’t, that was a problem.

“Y’think she’s gonna be all right?” Yume said all of a sudden. “Merry-chan.”

“Yeah...” Shihoru rubbed Yume’s back and shoulders, probably trying to reassure her, but she herself was crying. “I believe she will be...”

“Arghhhhhhhhh!” Kuzaku punched the ground. “Rantaaaa! That bastard, he’s screwing with us, damn him! I never thought he was the type!”

Yeah, that. That’s really what it comes down to, huh.

It wasn’t like Haruhiro was firmly convinced that he hadn’t, and he didn’t have enough evidence to claim otherwise, but he wasn’t ready to decide for sure that Ranta had betrayed them yet. Even if he had stabbed them in the back, he might have been put in a position where he had no other choice.

Merry, Haruhiro thought. I’m concerned about Merry. I’m worried for her, of course, and there’s something that bugs me about the way Ranta talked about her.

First, the way he’d said, “That woman belongs to me.” Taken at face value, it was a declaration that Merry was his. It was hard to imagine the feeling was mutual. Ranta was one-sidedly declaring Merry was his woman.

Why would Ranta say that about Merry? Sure, Merry was beautiful, and could be tender, so it wouldn’t be that strange if Ranta secretly harbored feelings for her. But he’d never shown any sign of it. If anything, the way Haruhiro saw it, Merry wasn’t Ranta’s type. To go a bit further, he was probably more into Yume. As a matter of fact, Haruhiro suspected that Ranta really liked Yume.

Ranta was all bluster. He’d go on about how he wanted a woman, or he wanted to do this or that, but he’d never take direct action.

A line like “That woman belongs to me” just didn’t suit Ranta. On top of that, he’d said, “If you want her back, just try and steal her from me!” There was something strange about that, too. Why had Ranta gone out of his way to say that? To provoke Haruhiro? Well, it wouldn’t be that uncommon for him to do so, but something had been strange about it.

What had been strange, and how? Think. He had to think.

“Ranta said Merry was his,” Haruhiro said slowly. “He also said that if we want her back, ‘just try and steal her.’ Before that, I asked him, ‘What happened to Merry?’ That was his response.” Haruhiro bit his lip lightly. “First, we can draw one conclusion. Merry is alive. If she weren’t, he couldn’t make her his. I couldn’t steal her from him, either.”

“Ranta-kun...” Shihoru forced herself to speak. “...was trying to tell us that?”

“I dunno.” Haruhiro shook his head. “I couldn’t tell you that much. But maybe. In terms of possibilities, I think, broadly speaking, we have two of them. Either Ranta stabbed us in the back, or, for some reason, he’s pretending to have. Either way, in that situation, he couldn’t just tell us Merry was fine, and not to worry. Ranta was on the other side, after all. But still. The ‘If you want her back, just try and steal her’ bit is a little weird. I mean, did he need to go out of his way to say that? If it was ‘She’s mine now, give up,’ or something like that, I’d understand. But ‘just try and steal her’... Maybe he’s telling us to come take her. Maybe it meant that Merry is where he is, and he wants us to come save her. That’s only one possibility, but...”

“Listen.” Yume leaned against Shihoru. “Yume, she’s always thought Ranta’s a hopeless idiot, and she’s still thinkin’ that, but him betrayin’ Yume and everyone else, doin’ somethin’ like that, that’s just not Ranta, now is it?”

“Nah, I dunno about that...” Kuzaku was pressing down on his knees. “At the very least, he was serious there. He came at me ready to kill. If Haruhiro and the others hadn’t shown up, I think it would’ve gotten real bad for us. They were nearby, so we got rescued, and it was all fine, but if they hadn’t been, Ranta, that bastard, I think he’d have killed both me and Shihoru.”

“Well...” Haruhiro scratched the back of his neck. “He can get strangely into things, you know...”

“I don’t want to get killed because he got too into his role,” Kuzaku said. “You know?”

“Well, yeah...”

“...Um.” Shihoru raised her hand.

Haruhiro didn’t feel like there was any need for her to raise her hand and ask for permission before speaking, but he said, “Go ahead.”

Shihoru nodded, then cleared her throat a little. “If thinking about it isn’t giving us any answers, I think we should come back to it later. In the end, Ranta-kun is the only one who knows what his true intentions are. Before that, what should we do from here on? What should our priority be? I think those are the more important questions.”

“In that case, it’s gotta be Merry-chan, don’tcha think?” Yume put in.

“...I’ve gotta agree,” Kuzaku said.

“Yeah.” Haruhiro sighed, then looked to Shihoru.

When she smiled just a little, Shihoru seemed awfully reliable. Talentless and immature as he was, Haruhiro needed to think, and think, and think until they got through this, but there was no need for him to be the only one wracking his brains. It was okay to lean on his comrades’ wisdom at times.

Besides, if he was aware that he was talentless and immature, he should rely on his comrades where he was able to. If he could do everything by himself, he wouldn’t be talentless or immature.

So what meaning was there in cornering himself, thinking, I have to do it myself, I have to do it myself, when he couldn’t do it at all? That only served to satisfy himself.

Shihoru was shy, but that also made her cautious, and it meant she watched her surroundings carefully, and thought deeply about them. Her powers of observation and analysis were beyond Haruhiro’s. Haruhiro needed to rely on Shihoru more.

“Saving Merry,” Haruhiro agreed. “That’s our top priority. For now, Ranta comes second. Merry’s probably been taken captive by Forgan. It’s not realistic for us to do anything about them by ourselves. If we’re going to get the Rocks to help us, since they’re going after Arnold of Forgan, we’ll need to lend them a hand, too.”

Shihoru’s brow creased with worry, and she looked down, but when she noticed Haruhiro’s eyes on her, she nodded slightly. “I think that’s our only choice. If we could have the Rocks attack Forgan... then rescue Merry while they do...”

“Use the Rocks as a decoy, you mean?” Kuzaku asked.

“Kuzaku.” Haruhiro lowered his voice. “You’re being too blatant...”

“Oh. Right.” Kuzaku glanced quickly at the retreat. “But that’s basically what it’d be, right?”

“Nah, I mean, we can’t do that,” said Haruhiro. “The Rocks are fellow Day Breakers. If we’re going to get their help, we’ll be open about it, bow our heads to them properly, and ask. Naturally, we’ll thank them, too.”

“What do you think’s happenin’ with Araran?” Yume looked in the direction that Arara was taken.

“They looked intimidating.” Shihoru touched her lips.

That was right. If Arara got punished for picking a selfish fight with Forgan, and she got locked up, what would happen to them taking vengeance? If that plot got put on hold, it was going to be a problem.

Still, there was nothing Haruhiro and his group could do about that. For now, they would have to think things over while watching how events developed.

And then, someone’s stomach rumbled loudly.

“Whoa!” Yume’s eyes went wide, and she held her belly. “There’s a surprise. Never knew it could rumble that loud. Y’think some sorta creature’s livin’ in there?”

“...Ahh.” Kuzaku hung his head. “Man, I’m hungry. And tired.”

“It shows you’re still alive...” Shihoru murmured. She looked like she was having a tough time, too.

Haruhiro looked up to the sky and sighed. Ranta. Is it okay for me to trust you, man? Your contemptible face is the only thing coming to mind. Maybe I shouldn’t trust you, after all...?

Whichever the case, he had to do something about the food situation.

When Haruhiro went to stand up, Katsuharu came out of his retreat. He was carrying something like a sieve that was full.

“You all must be hungry. I’ve not much to offer, living in a thatched hut like I do, but eat some of this.”

Kuzaku put his hands together and looked at the man. “Thanks!”

Haruhiro and Shihoru looked at one another. Was this okay? It would have to be. It was said you couldn’t fight on an empty stomach, after all.

The food Katsuharu brought them included some sort of sticky cake made with potatoes or some other vegetable, some sort of dried meat, and some sort of bittersweet dumpling. They were all unfamiliar, but none of them were bad. No one was going to be calling any of them a delicacy, but they seemed nourishing enough. Katsuharu even went and drew a bucket of water for them. He was an awfully caring man. What was more, he crouched down nearby, smiling and seeming to enjoy watching Haruhiro and the others eat.

“...Um, thank you,” Haruhiro said awkwardly.

“It’s fine, it’s fine.”

“Erm... What about Arara-san? What do you think’s actually going to happen with her?”

“Well, that’s not for me to decide.”

“But if you’re her uncle—” Haruhiro began.

“When it comes to a mere wanderer like me, it’s all the same to the village whether I’m here or not. I wanted to stop my niece before she took action, but I was too late. Now that she has, it’s out of my hands.”

“That’s awful...”

“Well, my older brother, one of the heads of the House of Nigi, is not the heartless sort who would make his own daughter commit seppuku because he can’t manage her. So long as she is still alive, she can do anything. Right?”

“...You figure?” Haruhiro asked.

“Luckily, as a wanderer, I can abandon this village at any time,” Katsuharu added.

Oh, so that was it.

This guy’s probably already made up his mind. No matter what happens, he’ll save his niece, and support her. That’s why he can act so relaxed.

“Those people.” Katsuharu gestured to the retreat with his chin. He must have meant the Rocks. “They say they’ll go on the move first thing in the morning. If you people intend to follow them, get some sleep.”

“Right.”

“Darn, my lower back hurts.” Katsuharu stood up and rubbed his lower back. “Having to worry about the house, and all of that, must be such a pain. Even though all of us are born, meet people, part ways, laugh, cry, and die just the same, I can’t help but feel sorry for my brother and his wife. Not that they’d want to hear that from a lowly man like me.”

Yume was already snoring softly, having fallen asleep while still sitting, using Shihoru’s shoulder as a pillow. Shihoru looked pretty tired, too. When Haruhiro laid Yume down on her side, Shihoru lay down next to her.

“...Thanks, Haruhiro-kun,” Shihoru said sleepily.

“No, I should thank you,” Haruhiro said.

“I’m sure... she’s definitely going to be okay.”

“Yeah.”

Kuzaku curled his big body into a ball, shutting his eyes tight, and trying his hardest to fall asleep. No doubt he was worried sick for Merry, and that was keeping him awake.

In his heart, Haruhiro whispered, I know that feeling. Because I feel the same way.

Haruhiro was about to move away from the dead guard, but he thought better of it. Merry was wearing handcuffs. The key. The guard probably had the key.

He hurriedly searched the guard’s body. This guy really wasn’t a human child. The bridge of his nose was thick, but awfully low, and the shape of his head with the broad, pronounced forehead was a distinctive feature, too. His coarse body hair was like an animal’s.

There was a cord around his neck. It was there. The key was hanging from the cord.

Haruhiro rushed to Merry and removed her handcuffs. Neither of them said a word. They had no time for pleasantries. Haruhiro offered Merry his hand, and helped her to her feet.

They couldn’t return to the village, of course. They’d decided on a meetup point in advance. That exit. From here, it was to the northeast. It should have been around eight kilometers. He wanted to run, but Merry was exhausted. It was best not to overexert themselves. They left immediately.

“I had an awful time,” Merry said in a low voice, then laughed a little.

Perhaps she meant to reassure Haruhiro by joking around. But he wanted to be the one reassuring her.

“An awful time.” Just how awful had it been? What had they done to her? It bothered him. But what reason did he have to ask? What good could come of it? At the very least, now wasn’t the time.

“You’re okay now,” Haruhiro said.

“Yeah.”

“I wish I could have come faster, though.”

“You were plenty fast. Where are the others?”

“Uh, yeah...”

Honestly, he couldn’t say there were no problems, or that she didn’t have to worry, because that wasn’t necessarily the case. What had happened during Rock and Arnold’s showdown? How had it developed from there? How were Shihoru, Yume, and Kuzaku doing? There were too many unknowns, or rather there was nothing but unknowns. But what of it?

Merry was all right. The rest would work out somehow. They could surely overcome it. They would overcome. In order to do that, he needed to keep his head working. To not relax. Because he didn’t let his guard down, he’d be able to detect it.

Haruhiro stopped and raised a hand. Merry immediately stopped, too.

Nearby, there was a hole that was probably not even a meter deep. The two got down inside it and sat there.

He’d heard it.

It was faint, but it was the voice of a nyaa. Were Forgan’s nyaas still left? No, probably not. It was Setora’s nyaa. Was that a signal? Was it trying to tell Haruhiro something? What?

“Hey!” a voice called.

That, huh. The nyaa was probably trying to tell Haruhiro that the owner of that voice was approaching.

“I know you’re there, Haruhiro! Get out here, you piece of shit!”

Merry huddled close to him. She was trembling. Her breathing was suddenly ragged.

Haruhiro stuck his head up out of the hole. Was that it? It was coming from the east. He could see silhouettes. Not far off. They were obscured by the fog, but they weren’t more than fifty meters away.

They weren’t alone. Four... no, five people.

Not good. If they were going to run, they had to do it fast. Those guys were getting closer and closer. For every bit closer they got, the odds of escape went down that much.

He’d made the wrong call. What good would hiding do? They should have run immediately. He’d failed.

Should he play decoy so that Merry could get away on her own? Merry didn’t know the area, so the overwhelming likelihood was that she would get lost. They’d catch her eventually. They had to run away together.

Why was Haruhiro hesitating like this? He knew. Because he thought if it came to this, they probably couldn’t escape. At the very least, taking the most obvious approach wouldn’t work. Unless something happened, or he made something happen, they wouldn’t be able to get away.

For Haruhiro’s part, that meant he had to make something happen. He had no idea what, but he’d do something.

“Merry, when I give the signal, run,” he said urgently. “With me.”

Merry took a short breath. “...Got it.”

Even if he told her, Go by yourself, there was no way Merry would agree. Either way, they were sticking together. He wouldn’t leave Merry alone anymore. Not a chance.

“Get the hell out here, Haruhiro!”

“Stop shouting.” Haruhiro didn’t just stick his head up, he got out of the hole.

This is the worst, he thought, his heart sinking.

In with the other members of the group that included Ranta was the one-armed, one-eyed, middle-aged man called Takasagi. In addition, there were two orcs, and the thin man with a poor complexion and long ears who seemed to be an elf.

Ranta, Haruhiro thought. Damn it, Ranta.

The orcs and the elf might be fine, but why, of all people, had he had to bring Takasagi? That old man was clearly trouble.

Takasagi held his pipe in his mouth and scratched the back of his neck with his left hand. Between him and Haruhiro, which had the sleepier eyes?

When Takasagi came to a stop and pointed to the left and the right with his chin, the two orcs went right, and the elf went to the left.

“Hey, Parupirorin.” Ranta jaunted right up to him. “Where’s Merry?”

“Dunno.”

“I’ll bet she’s here somewhere. Hiding.”

Haruhiro didn’t answer, gripping the hilt of his stiletto. Do I do it? Can I fight with him?

“I see right through you.” Ranta lowered his visor and drew RIPer. “Every thought you have.”

“...Like?”

“From the beginning, you were planning to sneak out and save Merry, weren’t you? I waited and waited, but you didn’t, so I thought you’d gotten scared.”

“Like I’d—”

Damn it.

His hands felt weak. It wasn’t just his hands. It was everywhere.

Is this okay?

Ranta.

Is this really okay with you...?

“Takasagi.” Ranta leaned forward a little, readying RIPer. “Let me be the one to kill him. I’ve got to prove my loyalty. You’re fine with that, right?”

“Do as you please.” Takasagi shrugged. “Let me say, though, I don’t particularly doubt you.”

“Liar. Well, whatever. I’ll make you believe in me soon enough.”

...Ohh, Haruhiro thought. I see.

So that’s it.

Haruhiro drew not just his stiletto, but his knife with the hand guard, too.

Ranta flew at him. Leap Out.

Then, from outside his range—

“Hatred!”

Haruhiro stepped forward and diagonally to the right, dodging it by a hair. Dodging it with room to spare was beyond him. It was a terrifyingly sharp slashing attack, filled with vigor. If he’d never seen it before, he might have been hit. But he had.

More than that, he’d seen Ranta’s Hatred with his own eyes, hundreds of times, probably over a thousand by now. He’d been watching it all this time.

But now that it’s turned on me, it’s this bad?

It hurt. He felt like his nerves were raw and exposed.

Ranta used another Leap Out, trying to get to Haruhiro’s side. His specialty was to chain that with a Slice.

I won’t let you, thought Haruhiro. You won’t take me down.

Haruhiro kept on moving to keep Ranta directly in front of him. Move as he might, Ranta was always bouncing around with Leap Out. He was swinging RIPer. He was stabbing at him. Haruhiro couldn’t catch his breath.

He was fast. Or rather, he was blinding. This was tough.

Haruhiro knew all the cards in Ranta’s hand, so he could still deal with it somehow. If he hadn’t known Ranta, he’d already have long since taken a wound or two. Until he saw through him, it would be a tough fight. He might be beaten, unable to hold out long enough.

He had to get serious, or he’d be in trouble. No, he was serious, and he was using everything he had to dodge. That wasn’t it.

If he didn’t seriously intend to defeat Ranta, he might be cut down. He had to take a “kill before you’re killed” approach. He couldn’t stay passive like this. If he was going to go on the offensive, the sooner the better. While he was still unharmed.

“Nuwah!” Ranta used Leap Out to try to get to Haruhiro’s left side.

Haruhiro stepped forward diagonally to the left.

He passed Ranta, and turned.

He got there.

Behind him.

He’d quickly get him with Backstab or Spider, and—

“Missing!” Ranta shimmered and vanished.

No, he was using a particular moving style, one that made his opponent, that was to say Haruhiro, hallucinate.

Left. From the left.

He came.

Immediately, Haruhiro caught Ranta’s RIPer with his stiletto. He was sure he’d be pushed back with Reject. Before that, Haruhiro jumped back to put distance between them.

Without missing a beat, Ranta closed in. As expected. If he avoided it any longer, Haruhiro was going to run out of breath first. He’d use Swat.

Swat. Swat. Swat. Swat. Swat. Swat. Swat. Swat. Swat.

Damn it!

Ranta.

Each of his attacks are heavier than I thought.

“Weak! Weak! Weak! Weak, weak! What’s wrong?! Why’re you so feeble, huh?!”

Ugh. Shut up. You’re annoying. You’re just Ranta. Damn it, stupid Ranta.

It was compatibility. He knew his personality didn’t match Ranta’s, but he was an equally bad match for someone to fight. Ranta was the type that fought with agility, variation, and the number of moves he had available. Just like Haruhiro knew Ranta, Ranta knew Haruhiro, too, so it was close to impossible to get behind him in a one-on-one fight. If he couldn’t surprise him, couldn’t twist his joints backwards, and couldn’t move faster than him, how exactly was he supposed to win?

Maybe I can’t win...?

Lose, to Ranta?

Haruhiro was a thief. Thieves, unlike dread knights, were not combat specialists. They were ill-suited for straight-up fights to begin with. Even their equipment was light and thin. That was why it was going this way. Haruhiro was in no way inferior to Ranta. No, it didn’t matter who was better or worse. However, before worrying that he’d hate to lose to Ranta, or how he didn’t want to lose, there was the more practical problem that if he lost, it was over.

He had to win. He’d have to risk it all. Like he had when he’d defeated the orc at Fire Dragon Mountain. He had to accept that. If Ranta’s power was a ten, Haruhiro was a seven, maybe an eight at best. It wasn’t as bad as with the orc at Fire Dragon Mountain, but Ranta was stronger than Haruhiro. Even so, there were things he could do. He might end up battered and blue himself, too, but—

This is okay, right? Haruhiro thought. Ranta, you’re okay with this? You know, right? I can’t hold back, okay?

How Haruhiro had beaten down the orc at Fire Dragon Mountain was something Ranta hadn’t seen. That meant he hadn’t seen Haruhiro giving it absolutely everything he had. Ranta wouldn’t be able to deal with that.

Swat.

Swat.

Swat.

Swat.

With each time he used Swat, his senses sharpened.

Ranta took a big swing with RIPer. It was deliberate.

Haruhiro wouldn’t go for that bait. Not yet. It wasn’t time yet. Haruhiro just used Swat.

“Heh!” Ranta laughed and used a light Exhaust. He jumped straight backwards to put distance between them. “Man, what are you trying to do? Fine. Bring it. It won’t work on me. I’m gonna prove right here that, in the end, you can’t beat me!”

“Whatever. Just come at me, Ranta.”

“You don’t have to tell me!”

Ranta lunged towards him with Leap Out. That stance was for Anger. He’d chain from that stab into a combo. Haruhiro wouldn’t let him.

Assault.

Surpassing his limits, Haruhiro moved up with a speed that betrayed Ranta’s expectations.

RIPer’s sword point grazed Haruhiro’s left cheek. Using his knife with the hand guard, Haruhiro used Slap on Ranta’s left hand.

He slammed the pommel of his stiletto into Ranta’s helmeted forehead, sweeping his left leg out from under him with a trip.

Ranta fell on his backside. By that point, Haruhiro was already behind Ranta. He wasn’t thinking with his head. Even if he didn’t think, his body would move on its own.

He stabbed his stiletto into Ranta’s right shoulder.

“Agh!” Ranta groaned and dropped RIPer.

While pulling his stiletto free, Haruhiro wrapped his left arm around Ranta’s neck. Even with the visor down, the helmet had holes for him to see through. If he put the stiletto through there—

If he put the stiletto through there—

If he did that—

“Haru!” a voice cried.

Haruhiro pulled back his stiletto.

“No...!”

Merry. She was standing up, and shouting.

“Haruhiro!” Ranta shook free from Haruhiro’s left arm. “You—”

“Ur...” One of the orcs crumpled, holding his face.

It was an arrow.

The orc’s face had taken an arrow, probably in the eye.

“Huh?!” Takasagi drew his katana, knocking something out of the air.

That something was an arrow. Someone was firing arrows from somewhere.

Haruhiro dashed. Whoever it was, whatever their objective, it didn’t matter. For now, something had happened. Thanks to that, a one-in-a-thousand chance had come his way.

Merry was already running, too.

Haruhiro soon caught up with her.

“Dammiiiiit! Haruhiroooo! Merryyyyy!” Ranta’s shouts grew more distant by the second.

What about the others? Were they giving chase? Even if they did, Haruhiro would shake them off.

Haruhiro ran, only continuing to sense the presence of Merry beside him. His body felt heavy due to the feeling of lethargy that was a side effect of Assault. What was a little heaviness? It wouldn’t kill him.

The next thing he knew, the fog had gotten thicker. Even though he couldn’t see the sun, and he’d lost all sense of direction, Haruhiro didn’t stop. North. He knew he should be heading roughly north.

They probably didn’t have any pursuers. At least, he didn’t think any were nearby.

“You owe me, junior.” Shockingly, there was a voice. Haruhiro hadn’t been able to count on his own detection abilities. Although part of that was he’d been up against a tough opponent.

Haruhiro stopped and looked around the area. “...Kuro-san?”

A tree to the left shook, and there was a rustling of leaves. When he looked up, Kuro was sitting on a branch.

“Moyugi told me to do it, see. He said to go help you out. Feel free to be grateful, okay?”

“Well, of course I’m grateful,” Haruhiro said. “Earlier, that was you, Kuro-san?”

“...Who?” Merry squared off against him while her shoulders heaved with each breath.

“Ohh—He’s in the Day Breakers... Basically, that makes him our ally, or our comrade, you could say.”

“I’m the guy who saved your life, yeah? If you want to make it simple.”

“I... suppose you are,” Haruhiro sighed, shaking his head right away.

This was no good. He felt like he was going to relax. It was too soon to let the tension out now.

“...How are Rock and the others?”

“Dunno. Well, I’m sure they’re doing fine. It all went according to Moyugi’s plan, like always.” Kuro put a hand on the branch, hung down from it, and dropped to the ground with an, “Oof.” Then he yawned and stretched. “All right. Well, later then, junior.”

“...Huh? Where are you going?”

“I’ve worked a little too much today. I’m gonna go get some sleep somewhere. I’m tired, after all. Oh, yeah. You guys were planning to meet up at that cave, right?” Kuro pointed ahead and to the right. “It’s thataway. Maybe six kilometers from here. Well, there you have it, bye.”

“...Okay.”

Kuro waved to them, then disappeared into the fog. They might have been able to stop him and ask for directions, but Haruhiro didn’t feel like it. He didn’t just not feel like it; he didn’t feel like much of anything.

His hands trembled a little. His feet wouldn’t move.

What was he standing around in a daze for? Well, no, he wasn’t in a daze.

So what?

“Haru, are you okay?”

He felt Merry’s hand on his back.

Haruhiro nodded. Giving her that nod was the best he could manage.

Would Haruhiro have killed Ranta if Merry hadn’t stopped him? In the end, he might not have been able to. Or he might have done it.

Had Ranta meant to kill Haruhiro?

It felt like it, but he might have been planning to show mercy at the very end.

Either way, Haruhiro had wounded Ranta with his stiletto. That hadn’t been a scratch. It had been a fairly deep wound. If not treated properly, it was entirely possible it would develop into something really bad. It was a serious wound. That wasn’t something you gave to a comrade.

Haruhiro wanted to squat down. If he lowered himself down, surely Merry would cheer him up. She’d comfort him. She might even embrace him. Haruhiro wanted those things. To be honest, he wanted them badly. But he couldn’t do it.

He didn’t want to indulge in Merry’s kindness. It wasn’t appropriate for Haruhiro to do that. He didn’t have the right.

Obviously, he couldn’t forgive Ranta. No matter what happened to Ranta, he deserved it. Even so, at least for the moment, he wasn’t ready to forgive what he had done with his own hands, and wasn’t willing to forgive himself.

He didn’t want to accept it. That Ranta was no longer their comrade.

Afterword

I think I’ll write about anime. I’d like to have this written down somewhere, so I’ll write it here.

I’ve lived over ten years as a novelist, and taking a quick count, I’ve put out over 80 volumes, but Grimgar of Fantasy and Ash is my first series to be turned into an anime. It might be my first and my last. Honestly, I was half-convinced it was something I wouldn’t experience in my lifetime as a novelist. I figured if I could live and die as a novelist, that wouldn’t matter to me one bit.

That said, I had imagined it before, if it did happen for me, how I would feel, and what I would think. I was sure I’d be happy and, as it’s common to say, I was sure I might think it was a tasty proposition. I might feel gratified that, after XX hard years of struggle, I was finally being recognized, so take that. I haven’t exactly walked a flat road to get here, so I figured it might be a moving experience for me, too.

But, really, I was sure it would be a complicated feeling. Novels are, at least in my case, something where I create the main text myself from the ground up. Now that’s going out of my hands. Others will be involved. They’ll have their interpretations, and it will be expressed in a different way. It’s going to become something different.

I might, for instance, have feelings like these about some parts.

Like, What were you thinking?

Or like, No, not like that, it’s like this.

Or like, What? You just don’t get it. Ugh, you’re making me mad now. Well, there’s no helping it, I guess. I mean, I am an adult, after all. I’m writing novels, but I’m still a member of society. It’s fine. Yes, yes. Even if I’m not satisfied, I can pretend I am. Well, what does it matter? You’re all doing your best. Things are different for everyone, after all. I’m sure this is just how it is. I’ll digest it, and accept it.

While I can’t claim not to have a strong ego, everyone, it’s impossible not to have one, at least to some degree. Even if I do have one, I won’t let it show, and I’ll handle things cleverly. I’m an adult, after all.

Well, once the production of the anime Grimgar of Fantasy and Ash began, I was surprised. I didn’t fall into that complicated emotional state at all.

In fact, the more I met with Director Ryosuke Nakamura, character designer Mieko Hosoi, the producers, and all the other staff, and the more I saw the scripts, design drawings, setting drawings, and storyboards, the more purely I found myself just looking forward to the anime. I could barely contain myself.

In the first meeting, I recall saying that they were free to change anything, in any way, for the sake of the anime adaptation. The most important thing was for it to be interesting as an anime, so I wanted them to not hesitate and to do all the things that needed to be done for that.

Director Nakamura immediately rejected this. I recall him saying that, even in the anime, they intended to depict the story of Haruhiro and the others in a way that followed the novel. Rude as this is for me to say, I really got the sense that he had read the novel Grimgar of Fantasy and Ash. The structure, the images, seeing various bits and pieces... I thought I could trust him completely, presumptuous as that is of me to say.

However, in fact, it was more than that.

Every time the production moved forward, I found myself captured by a strange feeling. Why did these people know so much about Grimgar? I mean, it was a novel I’d written, you know? I, obviously, understood it entirely. Well, there were some bits that hadn’t even been written down, so I understood 120% of it.

What’s this? These people understand as much as I do? That’s strange. Do things like this happen?

While sitting in on the first recording session, I felt that feeling expand even more. In front of these voice actors who would portray the characters, there was Director Nakamura, who could perfectly put what Grimgar was into clear words better than I could, and who could describe it richly.

I had my chance to greet them, and though I’m an adult, a member of society, I was embarrassed that I could only say silly things. Then, finally, the voice actors performed.

Performed? Acted? No, no, this was Haruhiro. Haruhiro was there. Manato was there. Yume, Shihoru, Moguzo, Britney, Barbara-sensei, and Renji were all talking.

There were goblins!

When I heard Nobunaga Shimazaki who plays Manato, Mikako Komatsu who plays Yume, Haruka Terui who plays Shihoru, and Chika Anzai who plays Merry on internet radio and Niconama speaking about it, sometimes with passion, other times with cheer, and other times with tears, I would fall out of my chair laughing, or sometimes cry a little. Especially when it came to Manato, considering that he leaves the story early, I, in my amateur estimation, felt it must have been a difficult role.

But Nobunaga really was Manato. Nobunaga even looks the part of Manato. Having written novels for a reasonably long time, this was my first time feeling this way, but I wished Manato could have lived longer. Seeing Nobunaga’s Manato, hearing him, I couldn’t help myself but think that.

Novelists are isolated. In isolation, there is freedom. In order to truly take hold of that ability to gain freedom, a novelist must be isolated. That’s what I think, and that isn’t going to change. However, just for the time that I am touching the anime Grimgar of Fantasy and Ash, I feel I may not be alone. It gives me the courage to be alone and write novels again.

I’ve run out of pages.

To Yusuke Kimura, who can fairly be said to have given birth to Grimgar of Fantasy and Ash, to Eiri Shirai, to the designers of KOMEWORKS among others, to everyone involved in production and sales of this book, and finally to all of you people now holding this book, I offer my heartfelt appreciation and all of my love. Now, I lay down my pen for today.

I hope we will meet again.

Ao Jyumonji

Bonus Short Stories

Looking Back, It’s Been a While

“I hear Manato kicked the bucket,” Renji said, and handed over a gold coin. “Consolation money. Take it.”

Haruhiro pushed it back at him.

He can’t accept it, huh? He should just take it, was one thing Renji didn’t think. If Haruhiro had said he didn’t need it, then so be it.

When Renji returned to where his comrades were, Ron had a dumbfounded look on his face, and Sassa and Chibi didn’t say a word, either. Adachi was the only one who did.

“Hold on, Renji.”

“What?”

“Have you ever heard of money sense?” Adachi was in an obviously bad mood. “Do you understand what a gold coin, one gold, can do?”

“...Of course I do.”

“You do? Really?”

“Adachi, have you been drinking?” Renji queried.

“That has nothing to do with this, does it? Whether I’ve been drinking or not. Is it relevant in any way? I don’t think so. I’m talking about money sense here. You get me? That was one gold, okay? Not one silver, one gold. Not that I’d want you wasting one silver, either. That goes without saying, though.”

“Ah!” Ron lifted up an empty cup. “Hey, Adachi! I ordered this drink. What’d you drink it for?!”

“Huh?” Adachi looked to Ron with a nasal laugh. “Who do you think manages everyone’s money? Me, right? When we drink at a place like this, I pay the entire bill. In other words, even if you order a drink, it’s the same as if I ordered it myself, now isn’t it?”

“That has nothing to do with this!”

“It does. For a start, if you say it was yours, then you should have drunk it right away. You didn’t do that, so I drank it for you. That’s all there is to it.”

“No, just now, Renji went over there, and stuff happened, so...”

“That’s none of my concern. I have no time for idiots.”

“D-Don’t call me an idiot. You’re hurting my feelings!”

“For the way you look, you’re awfully naive. It doesn’t suit you. It’s kind of creepy.”

“...Y-You ass... When you drink, your tongue gets even sharper than normal...”

“If you don’t want me to say anything about you, then you had best keep silent,” Adachi sneered. “I don’t care one bit about you, Ron. Renji, we’re not done talking about your money sense.”

“...We’ve talked enough. They didn’t take it.”

“What if they had?” Adachi demanded.

“It was my money to begin with.”

“You have your money because I manage it, and distribute it to each of you on a planned schedule. Now, listen here. Money that goes unspent doesn’t disappear. Did that sound like common sense? Well, there are a fair number of idiots out there in the world who don’t understand this obvious fact. In fact, there are quite a lot of them. Like you, for instance. One gold? Don’t pull this shit with me, Renji. Talking about consolation money. Maybe you just wanted to show off, but it you spend money vainly like that, it’ll all be gone in no time.”

“I wasn’t trying to show off,” Renji said.

“Oh-ho. Okay. Well, let’s say that’s true. Hey, Ron, order another drink. You can order for yourself, too. There’s no helping you people.”

“...S-Sorry, man—Hey, wait! I’m not your gofer!”

“Huh? You want to say something?” Adachi snapped.

“No... G-Got it, more drinks, okay.”

“Renji.”

“...What?”

“Did you just sigh?” Adachi demanded. “You did, didn’t you? What was that supposed to mean? Could I get an explanation?”

“You’re a mean drunk...” Renji muttered.

“Oh, what’s this? When things look bad for you, you start treating people like they’re drunkards and run away now? Well, I don’t mind. Not me. But it’s lame, you know, acting like that.”

Renji came close to sighing again, but he held it in. It seemed like they shouldn’t let Adachi drink too often.

Like this, we have own problems, too. You must have had it harder, though, Manato, he thought. Rest in peace...

Miss Grimgar

Mimori was depressed. Or rather, exhausted. No, she couldn’t tell if she was alive or dead. She’d probably gotten shorter, too. That was how it felt.

“Ohhh... Miiiimoriiiin. You still not feel good, yeah. Miiiimoriiiin...”

Anna-san patted her on the head. Mimori was sitting down on a bed. Anna-san was kneeling on the bed and hugging her. That was nice of her.

Mimori didn’t know how long she’d been like this. When had Anna-san gotten there? That was unclear. She didn’t remember. While Anna-san leaned against her, the tears flowed from Mimori’s eyes.

“It going to be okay, yeah. Cry all you want. Cry at Anna-san’s bosom till you feel better. It okay to cry. There, there, there, there, there...”

“...Haruhiro!” Mimori sobbed.

Upon calling out his name, the tears flowed even stronger. They still didn’t know if Haruhiro was safe or not, but no one had found a way back to the Dusk Realm now that the entrance had been crushed.

Tada had told her to “Give up already.” That had made her snap, and Mimori had probably gone on a bit of a rampage. Tokimune and Kikkawa had had to pin her arms behind her, and when she’d come to her senses, both Tada and Mimori herself had been covered in blood.

No matter what anyone said to her, she couldn’t give up. There was no way she could. But what should she do, then?

Mimori tried to stop the tears somehow. It took a long time before they subsided.

“Anna-san,” she murmured.

“What, Mimorin?”

“What should I do?”

“Mimorin, frankly... Tell you truth, Anna-san not know either... But, yeah...”

“Mm-hm.”

“Mimoriiiin...”

Anna-san pushed Mimori away a little, then looked straight into her eyes.

“Miiiimoriiiin...”

“What?”

“You lost lot of weight...”

“I’m thinner now.”

“...Beautiful.”

“Burifo?”

“Not know how say it... How?”

“How?”

“You su... super beauty now, Mimorin.”

Mimori touched her own face, and tried hitting her shoulders and chest. She hadn’t eaten anything fit to be called a meal in a while, so she’d lost a lot of her meat.

“My chest’s gotten smaller.”

“But still have meaty breasts, yeah? You still got it, okay?”

“Meaty...”

Mimori covered her face. She started crying again.

“I want to eat a meat pie.”

“Why you say that?!”

“I want to eat meat pies with Haruhiro!”

“Anna-san not see connection! Hold on! The way Mimori look now, you can aim to be Miss Grimgar! Easy! Forget that silly willy! There lots better men out there!”

“I don’t want them! I want Haruhiro!”

“Mimori have problems, yeah...”

Anna-san hugged Mimori again. They couldn’t keep this up forever. Mimori knew that, too. But she wasn’t ready to get back on her feet yet. She couldn’t give up.

“I want to see you. Haruhiro, I want to see youuuu...”

The tears were unending. How many days, how many months, how many years would it be before they ran dry?

Mimori had no idea.

For Me to be Me

Kuzuoka.

People called him trash.

“...Which is exactly what I am.”

He’d play the fool and crack jokes at his own expense at every opportunity. The one-man comedy act was easy for him.

Incidentally, he was alone now. He’d ended up alone in the Wonder Hole, of all places. He was sitting on the ground, two corpses laid out in front of him. They might begin moving under No-Life King’s curse some day, but they weren’t even twitching now, and a dead body was just a dead body. However, having come into the Wonder Hole in a party of six, there were two bodies, and one of him, which meant three people were missing from the equation.

“Damn it. They left me behind.”

Kuzuoka was holding his right arm with his left hand. His upper arm was bleeding. He was alone, with silent corpses his only company, and his dominant arm injured. This was quite the fix.

“Nah. Time for a change of perspective.”

Now, it was true that the other three, the ones who weren’t corpses, had left Kuzuoka behind, but the truth was that they had run off being chased by that creepy, noisy, kinda dangerous-looking monster they’d encountered for the first time. Before that had happened, the creepy, noisy monster had produced these two corpses, and with a flash of its eleven whip-like tails, it wounded Kuzuoka’s dominant arm. He’d realized things were bad, so he’d joined the corpses and played dead.

Yeah, that was it. That was why the other three had run off, probably thinking he was dead. What idiots.

“...Well, hey. That’s nothing unusual. I’m the winner here, huh?”

However, there was no sign of any living creatures nearby, so it seemed about time to get away from here. Kuzuoka carried out a search of the corpses, stuffing anything of value into his backpack.

“Heh heh heh, nothing here’s of any use to dead men. Sorry. Nah, not like I need you to forgive me. Whether you do or don’t, it doesn’t make a difference. You’re dead, after all. Ahh, but still, damn, my arm hurts. Because you people went and died so quickly, I got hurt, too. Way to make problems for me. Useless, utterly useless. People like you deserve to end up dead. Well, I’m sure the other three are dead somewhere, too, though. And I’m the only survivor. Damn, I’m cool. Mweheheh...”

He made a rule of stepping on the corpses of his former comrades. In doing so, he was able to part with them in the truest sense. It let him accept it. He thought of it as a ritual. Also, it felt damn good.

“I’m alive, and you’re dead. That’s how we know I’m better than you. You got that? Yeah, I bet you don’t. I mean, you’re dead.”

Now, what to do from here on was no problem at all. If he was alone, he could get by just fine. Kuzuoka was confident. Alone, he could get out of any hard spot.

However, working alone was inefficient when it came to earning money, so he’d bring on a bunch of idiots to fill out the required numbers. That said, while he loved money, it was only second place for him. His life was what was most important. Living. Surviving himself. No matter what happened, he would live. Even if he had to use all the others as sacrificial pawns, he’d keep living.

Kuzuoka understood. He wasn’t like Soma. They’d come to Grimgar on the same day. They were contemporaries, you could say, and around the same age, but that guy had been completely different from the very beginning. Despite being a dunce, that guy could do anything he tried. Worse yet, he was so thick that snide remarks and sarcasm didn’t get through to him. However, just because they were from the same initial group, he’d say things like, We’re comrades, so let’s work hard together, like it was nothing. Gross. He was gross like that, but chicks dug him.

Damn, that’s cool. Yeah, yeah, whatever. Souma, you’re so great. The best. Go die. I don’t care how, just die right now.

But even if he cursed the guy like that, guys like him just wouldn’t die. What was more, he wasn’t staying in a safe zone and kept diving deeper and deeper into risky places, but he still came back alive. He accomplished all sorts of things.

Kuzuoka wasn’t like Soma. He couldn’t be like Soma. He needed to make sacrifices to live. He couldn’t sacrifice himself. If he did that, he’d die. That was why he’d sacrifice anyone else to make sure he could live. He wouldn’t think, Sorry. Forgive me. He killed living things to eat. It was exactly the same. No matter what it took, he’d live.

Kuzuoka took three days to escape the Wonder Hole on his own strength alone, and made it back to the Lonesome Field Outpost. If he paid the necessary sacrifices like this, even Kuzuoka could accomplish things. He could go on living.

He went to the back alley, meaning to have a drink, when he saw those three eating at a stall.

Kuzuoka went to turn around and go back, but stopped short. When he approached the three, calling out, “Hey,” their eyes all bugged out.

Kuzuoka smirked. Those guys had thought Kuzuoka was dead, too. They even seemed to feel guilty about leaving him.

Useful. He could get more out of them still. So that Kuzuoka could live the Kuzuoka way. So that he could survive.