Paladin Of The End Volume 3.1 Chapter 4
Several wooden coffins were lined up in the burial chamber. The ceiling was shaped into a stable arch, and patterns reminiscent of flowing water were drawn on the walls in vivid red. The chamber went back a little way, but it couldn’t really have been called spacious.
“I can’t protect both of us.” I called out to Al as I took a step forward. “Run as fast as you can.” I steadied my breathing, focused on the circulation of mana—
“Oop. Easy there, warrior of the flame. You too, dwarf.”
I could feel his satisfied grin.
“If you’re intending to fight me, you can have the victory right now. I am not an Echo today, you see.”
Once he said it, I noticed. His presence wasn’t as concentrated as it had been back then, nor as overwhelming. The strength of it was incomparable to the average demon or beast but, conversely, that was the extent of it. It was not the aura of that unreasonably absolute being.
I pointed Pale Moon’s luminescent blade towards the back of the chamber. There was an altar where animal bones had been laid. They were probably a totem for ancestral spirits. Sitting atop the altar was a raven with glossy black feathers and red eyes that felt somehow sinister.
“A Herald.”
Heralds communicated the will of the gods and were a step down from the more powerful Echoes.
“Very perceptive.”
The sense that he was smiling got even stronger.
“Oh, and you can feel at ease. I haven’t laid a single hand on the dead in this burial chamber. Their souls have already returned to the great cycle, and a makeshift troop would stand no chance against you anyway.”
The raven’s eyes narrowed.
“Yes, thanks to the thrashing you gave me, I won’t be able to manifest an Echo in this land for a while, no matter what I do.”
Al seemed to have been stunned to silence.
For a while, huh? How long was “a while” in a god’s terms, that was the question. Was it a few years? A few decades?
“And so, as you can see, I sent out a Herald and—”
“Decided to go fishing?”
“Very perceptive once again. My word, you are as sharp as ever.”
I got the feeling that, for some reason, he was becoming more cheerful each time he spoke.
“Nasty, you are.”
“Oh, I’m sure fishing is always very nasty business for the fish. That is the nature of a god. We cannot be measured by human standards.”
The unholy aura the hunter had sensed here in Pillar Mound must have been the work of the raven before me who was the god of undeath’s Herald. He knew that if he dangled a hook into this region with an undead sighting attached to it, I would be highly likely to take the bait. If he didn’t catch me the first time, he could just change locations and try again. It was a very patient and godlike approach. Only...
“It doesn’t seem like you’re after revenge for last time.”
“Yes. Firstly, I owe you an apology.”
“What?”
“My previous Echo displayed disgraceful behavior in its final moments. I feel deeply ashamed. There was no excuse for it.”
The raven sounded completely serious.
“An Echo is an attempt to project the power and mind of us gods into the nature of a person or fae. Some distortion is necessary. Newly born Echoes tend, to varying degrees, to be infantile, emotional, and rash. Of course, that doesn’t make it acceptable.”
My mouth hung open. I never thought I’d hear words of apology from a deity, from an actual, unmistakably real god.
Al’s mouth was flapping. This being’s aura alone was enough to make anyone feel certain that he was a Herald of the gods. It was no wonder that Al was so confused at the sight of him talking to me in such a friendly way.
”Oh, dwarf. This ‘warrior of the flame’ and I have crossed blades once before. Although I had been worn down quite a bit by his mentor by that point, I must say, he was a formidable foe. How long has it been since an Echo of mine was last destroyed by a pure human? Not to mention that he seems to have become stronger still since then. He may even stand on a par with the heroes of legend if he continues to—”
“Stagnate.” I stopped him, using a deliberately threatening tone. It didn’t seem as though he was going to actively fight me, but what was in front of my eyes was still a Herald of an evil god with dangerous ideas. I had no idea what he was planning. “I have no intention of being drawn into a conversation with you. What do you want?”
“How unfriendly. What’s wrong with indulging me with a little chat? Has our relationship turned so cold?”
“What kind of a relationship do you think we have?”
“Come now, don’t tell me you forgot that impassioned night we spent together? We both spent a little time on the receiving end.”
“I wasn’t aware that gods enjoyed jokes.”
The raven clicked his beak in representation of a laugh.
“And so, today I have come with a topic of interest for the big, strong warrior who caused me to die a little death.”
“Do I have permission to break your neck?”
“Gracious, no. What a horrifying thought.”
While casually exchanging words with him, I tutted internally. Now that I was attempting to have a proper conversation with the god of undeath, I could understand even more deeply how formidable he was. In terms of simple strength too, of course, but even more so in terms of his other aspects.
This god could really speak. You could trade jokes and quips with him. If you told him your troubles, he would surely listen intently. He might even sympathize. He would try to work together with you to find a solution or guide you in the right direction with his godly powers. And he would be sincere the entire time.
Yes, as frightening as it was, he was sincere. That was what made Stagnate an extremely dangerous god. Most likely, those ultimately taken in by his charms would voluntarily become undead, voluntarily rally under his flag, and voluntarily remain loyal to him. Gracefeel, who was the god I worshipped, had been ringing alarm bells inside my mind since the beginning of this conversation, desperately urging me not to get comfortable around him.
“Your glib talk won’t work on me. What do you want?”
“Ah, yes.”
The raven batted his wings once as if to fix his appearance and faced me formally.
“Champion who defeated me, paladin of the flame—”
His oracular voice and gestures were fitting for one who proclaimed himself a god.
“Accept my revelation.”
At the moment he said it, a powerful image was thrust into my mind.
The next thing I knew, I was in the dark in the bowels of the earth. The horribly thick darkness corrupted even my sense of distance. There was only one thing I could see in its depths: a single golden eye. A long, thin pupil stretched vertically down the eye as if it had been slightly torn apart. The enormous body stirred, and the sound of its scales grated harshly on my ears. I was looking up at it. I couldn’t move. I knew I had to fight, but my body wouldn’t move. Why? Why?
I thought about it and realized. It was no wonder I couldn’t move. How could I move when my arms and legs had all been torn off?
The faces of Mary, Blood, and Gus floated across my mind. I thought an apology to them. They had raised me for nothing.
That’s when it snapped its fangs at me. It snapped them over and over, as if ridiculing its foolhardy, idiotic challenger. And then there was light. The toxic, burning breath stored inside its belly, a mass of incandescent heat, traveled from its belly up its throat and then, at the instant it lit up the dreadful face of the one-eyed dragon, my consciousness ended.
◆
I started. My mind returned to reality from the imagery that had been etched into it.
My breathing was ragged. I had only lost consciousness for an instant, but the experience had been powerful. What I had seen, I was certain, was my own death, as a possible future.
“William, thou shalt challenge the dragon and die defeated, thy purpose not fulfilled.”
His prophetic words had a ring of truth to them. Stagnate ruled over immortality, and it was probably possible for him to read that future as well.
“If you would like to spare yourself a meaningless death, do not fight the Gods’ Sickle, the foul dragon Valacirca.”
His red pupils pinned me to the spot.
“If you cannot trust me, I suggest you ask Gracefeel’s opinion. Ask whether with your power and her protection you can win against the dragon as you are now. You will get the same answer.”
The sight of a jet-black raven speaking a human tongue was uncanny and only made his words all the more powerful.
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because you demonstrated that you have what it takes to be a hero.”
The raven’s reply was unhesitant.
“I adore humans. Heroes in particular, as your teachers were. A hero overcoming the impossible and ending injustice with the radiance of their soul is a sight I find beautiful from the bottom of my heart. I even believe them to be the physical embodiment of the possibilities of human beings, no, all beings.”
I let him continue.
“That is why I want to preserve that sight in an eternal form. It is unbearable to watch souls like that being dragged down from their potential by common fools and reduced to nothing, their shine dulled by suffering and regret. It is the same to imagine you killed by a worldly fool like Valacirca. The thought makes me sick.”
Worldly?
“Hm. So your research hasn’t turned that up yet. Yes, worldly. Valacirca is a foul, materialistic dragon.”
Stagnate spat out those words, and then began to talk more eloquently about him.
“Valacirca’s name as the ‘Gods’ Sickle’ originates from the time of the great wars between the good and evil gods. At the time, I was on what you might call the side of good. And Valacirca was there, too—a dragon with an overwhelmingly massive body, dark-red scales, and fiery, noxious breath. He was one of the strongest and most ferocious dragons serving the Big Six.”
He told me that Valacirca was a powerful and cruel dragon who declared openly that the only reasons he served the forces of good were that the dragons and giants who would oppose him were powerful and he would receive a good reward.
“I’m surprised the good gods felt like employing him.”
“If they had done otherwise, he would have become their enemy instead. Even that good-natured bunch are capable of calculating what’s in their own interest.”
He did have a point. It was wartime. They wouldn’t refuse help from hired fighters because of a little bit of bad manners.
“He was fixated on three things: battle, victory, and treasure. He would win, steal, and be very pleased with himself. A straightforward, beastlike nature, don’t you agree? And because of that, the Big Six were that much more cautious about how they handled him.”
He was dropped in at the most critical points and won. The dragon without a name began to be called Valacirca, the Gods’ Sickle.
“At a certain point during those wars, I turned my back on the forces of good. I will avoid going into the details of what occurred after that, but ultimately a final battle took place in which the sides of good and evil were evenly matched and almost destroyed each other. The gods and the dragons were all heavily wounded, and many departed to a distant world. From that point on, the gods were limited in their ability to directly interfere with the world.”
That was a piece of mythology that was passed down in this world. Because the gods interfered with the world in practical ways, unless some god deliberately spread a false story, the general outline would get passed down precisely.
“Valacirca successfully and intelligently survived this last all-out war and went to sleep.”
To prepare for the next war and plunder.
“The dragon always slept a long time. Every time he awakened, he took part in a war. If there was no war, he fanned the flames himself. He did not take sides but lent his strength to all involved. And every time he did, the gods’ plans were disrupted. As far as I know, the last war he participated in was the pandemonium started by those demons from Hell.”
That was the Great Collapse and the end of the Union Age.
“He met the High King and lent him his power. His usual cunning and materialism, I’m sure. Swords aside, the High King wasn’t one with a great attachment to treasure, you see. And Valacirca laid waste to the Iron Country, suffered a serious battle wound, and took to sleep to allow it to heal. Removed from the tide of battle, once again he cleverly excused himself...”
“W-Wait!” Al, who had been stiff with fear up until now, suddenly raised a startled voice.
◆
“Battle wound? Did you say he suffered a serious battle wound? Did my ancestors—”
“Hmm, what’s this? Are you a descendant of the mountain dwarves?”
“Y-Yes!”
After hearing that answer, the raven laughed. It was a joyful laugh.
“My oh my, the hand of Fate in action! Very well, then. Dwarf connected to the Iron Mountains! I, Stagnate, god of undeath, shall reveal to you the truth: the Lord of the Iron Mountains, Aurvangr, was a true hero!”
It was an innocent voice, like that of a child showing off a treasure to a friend.
“Hear this! And take pride! Calldawn, that legendary sword of many generations, stole one eye from the foul dragon that has lived since the time of the gods!”
As the god spoke of Al’s ancestors with the greatest pride, Al’s quivering hand tightened into a fist. “I-Is that the truth?”
“It certainly is. I acknowledge it here: his heroism was spectacular and satisfying to the extreme!”
Al’s voice choked with emotion. “Th-Thank you... Thank you...”
The raven that was the Herald of the god of undeath watched over Al warmly. From this scene alone, it would have been hard to think of him as an evil god. But it was also a fact that this was a god whose sympathy led him to produce a great number of undead, corrupting the laws of life and death and each time bringing about disaster.
“William, warrior of the flame, one day you may be able to surpass even Aurvangr’s glorious accomplishments and sever the head of Valacirca. But now is not that time. Avoid battle. Bide your time and train.”
His words seemed to be genuine words of concern for me.
“Even if there are victims, as hard as this may be for you to accept.”
I hesitated over how to respond. The next moment, I felt a crawling sensation run up my spine.
“Listen, the dragon slumbers lightly now.”
An underground rumbling echoed around the burial chamber.
rrrrrRRRRR...
The ground shook. I could hear a roar that seemed to echo from the very depths of the earth.
rrrrrrrrRRRRRR...
It was a terrifying sound that seemed to hold a tight grip on my soul. My hands were shaking. When on earth was the last time I felt fear from the roar of a living creature?
rrrrrrrrrrrRRRRRRRRRR...
After that last roar, significantly longer than the others, the noise and the shaking both stopped abruptly.
“The dragon has demonstrated his power. To him, it was probably nothing more than rolling over in his sleep on the brink of wakefulness. But even so, I suggest you return to your territory quickly, or things are going to get out of hand.”
The god of undeath’s raven looked displeased.
— The fire of dark disaster shall catch in the mountains of rust. That fire shall spread, and this land may all be consumed.
— The dragon is coming. The dragon is coming! The dragon is coming! Valacirca! Calamity’s sickle descends upon you!
Those ominous words once again crossed my mind.
◆
Al let out a wild yell. His weighty battle axe swung horizontally straight into the face of the crazed giant lizard, breaking bone and scattering skin and flesh.
“Hmm, another four are approaching from west-northwest. What now?”
Stagnate’s Herald-raven croaked loudly from up in the air.
Not bothering to answer him, I swung around my sling as one of the lizards sprang out of a bush to the west-northwest and landed a direct hit on its head. A red flower blossomed. I hardly looked at it. I swung around the next stone. Two more lizards leaped out one after the other. I picked one of the two and buried the stone between its eyes.
The other drew closer. Al blocked with a shield as it tried to bite him and, summoning an instant of courage, he faced it from the front and smashed his axe down into its head.
His first battle had turned out nothing like I’d been expecting. Still, he was moving pretty well.
The last one of the four came at him, too. He fended it off with the movements that had been ingrained into him by training, making panicked yelps all the while, and finally crushed it with the axe. The giant lizard kept fighting wildly until it was completely dead.
“Do you understand now? That is a dragon roar.”
It was the kind of terror only a ruler could wield, and it had the power to strike panic into the hearts of all creatures great and small. Gus had once told me that this was the reason outstanding heroes were needed to slay a dragon. It made sense. If a dragon could inspire this kind of panic just by roaring, then it wouldn’t matter how many average soldiers you assembled; they would only serve to accelerate the chaos.
After that dragon roar, we escaped from the burial chamber with dirt falling in pieces from the ceiling to be immediately confronted by beasts that had lost their minds to the dragon’s howling.
The god of undeath’s Herald-raven was yet to leave and seemed to be enjoying himself as he flew at my side. In fact, it had even gotten to the point that he was giving me helpful information about the beasts that were coming. I was thankful for that, but the sense that this could be a calculated move was making me unable to feel happy about it. What was I supposed to call this emotion?
“Ah, hello. Northwest. Some more bad news is coming this way.”
I could hear the ground rumbling at regular intervals and the sound of trees cracking. Those were not the sounds a four-legged creature made as it moved...
“It’s a forest giant. That will give even you a bit of a hard time.”
Accompanied by the dreadful sound of living trees being torn apart, a giant appeared who was over three meters tall and wearing fur. He had a club in his hand and was foaming at the mouth. He was clearly deranged with panic. As soon as Al saw it, he bent back with a cry of horror and surprise.
“It looks like it wasn’t prepared for Valacirca’s howling. What now, hero?”
The Herald-raven looked down at me from the sky, with a genuine, irritating pleasure in his red eyes.
Forest giants lived deep in the woods and were generally mild-mannered, although it depended on the personality of the individual and the clan. They were also relatively small as giants went.
“Are you going to kill it?”
“Of course not.”
“Then you will stop it? That? How?”
“Don’t you know?”
Blood shouted inside my head.
“Get ripped, and you can solve pretty much everything by force!”
I tossed my sling aside and sprinted towards the giant.
◆
Bellowing angrily and foaming at the mouth, the forest giant swung his club in a horizontal arc towards me. It was a very bulky club, as if a section had just been cut out of a tree trunk. I stopped dead, folded my arms up compactly, held my shield in position with both hands and my left shoulder, and took the hit head-on. There was a powerful impact. I pressed my feet down hard, and they gouged out a trail in the ground as I was pushed backwards a little.
“This is... nothing!” I pushed back.
Despite his loss of control, the forest giant seemed startled by the unexpected feeling of resistance. Hastily pulling back his club, he then released a flurry of blows with surprisingly limber movements of his arm. I took them all on my shield. A normal shield would have broken into pieces already from the impact, but I had carved layer upon layer of Signs into this one over the past two years. It wouldn’t break easily. As I sustained all the giant’s fierce blows, I gradually closed the gap between us.
With a loud roar, the giant finally switched to a two-handed stance and brought the club down as if to crack my head in half. It was a frontal attack that took advantage of his great height and superior body weight. As the club came down, I thought about how impressive it was that he’d had the judgment to use this particular move while in a mad frenzy.
But I’d been expecting this attack. Holding my shield at a tilted angle, I deflected his blow to my left. The feel of the strike being forced in a different direction when all his previous attacks had just been stopped by the shield took the giant by surprise, and his posture faltered. I’d been waiting for that moment. Twisting my body as I took a big step forward, I grabbed hold of the giant’s thick arm, and I pulled it in towards me hard and spun my whole body in the style of a sacrifice throw. The giant’s center of gravity tilted forward. He was unable to fight it. I felt the interesting sensation of a massive weight floating into the air, and the next instant, a tremendous rumble shook the earth.
“H-He threw the giant?” Al said, stunned.
“Yes, he did.”
I couldn’t afford to pay attention to them. I ignored them, held the giant down, and immediately prayed to the god of the flame. The prayer I was using was Sanity, a so-called resuscitation miracle that caused the target to recover from confusion. I felt the power of my god being channeled through me, and then the deranged forest giant made some drowsy, confused noises and the light of sanity returned to his eyes.
“As usual, your actions leave me speechless.”
“What did you expect me to do?”
Unless you performed the prayer while directly touching the target, Sanity only had a mild effect, so a plan was needed if I wanted to cast it on a giant who had lost his mind. Power was needed to carry that plan out, and I happened to have it. That was all.
Get ripped, and you can solve pretty much everything by force. And if you have techniques and magic as well, that’s even better.
As a rule, Blood’s teachings were correct.
◆
“I really did something sorry.”
“It’s no trouble. Can you get back without help?”
“I think it is get back somehow.”
“Oh, uh, ‘Giant-language, slightly, understand.’”
“Ohh! ‘What a surprise! That helps a lot!’”
It was an incredibly jumbled conversation.
“Umm... the dragon... ‘Dragon, howl, dangerous, is’...”
“Yes, it is derrible, I know. ‘I must return to my tribe. After that, I think I will move somewhere a little safer.’”
“Oh, in that case, please mention the name of William the paladin. ‘If, people, collide, my-name, William.’”
“William. Paladin, William, god it. ‘All right. You have my gratitude, Sir William.’”
After I threw the forest giant, touched him with my hand, and performed the miracle of Sanity, he regained his self-control.
However, a serious problem arose when we tried to communicate: neither of us was very proficient in the other’s language. Although most of the languages in daily use in this world were distantly related, all being derived from the original Words of Creation, the language of giants was a little too esoteric. Even Gus, who had taught it to me, had been working from a very patchy memory of it. That was why we were having this halting attempt at communication using both of our languages.
“‘I am Gangr of the race of Jotunn,’ I, Gangr of Yotun, William. ‘William, champion of men.’” Gangr placed a big, rugged palm against one of mine. It was a giant greeting. We looked like an adult and a child comparing palm sizes. “‘I will not forget this debt. If you have any troubles in the forest, call for me.’”
“How can I call you?”
“‘Shout out: “Gangr of the Jotunn, William is here.” The trees will pass on the message.’”
The title of “forest giant” was apparently deserved. He seemed to be on friendly terms with the fae and the fairies.
After that, Gangr bowed many times to us and headed off back into the forest once more.
“That’s the first time I’ve ever seen a giant.”
“Me, too. He really took me by surprise.”
“Even though you can speak their language?!”
“My magic teacher was a walking encyclopedia.”
As Al and I talked, the Herald-raven came down from the sky. He tried to nonchalantly land on my arm, so I dodged him, and he tutted shrewdly as he landed on the ground instead.
“You saw that. That is the influence of an ancient dragon feared even by Hell’s demons.”
The god of undeath’s red-eyed Herald spoke. He was continuing the conversation we were having just before the roar from Calamity’s Sickle.
“There is no hero in this age or region greater than you. If he awakens and seeks war once again, there will be no other way to defeat him than you. But even you are not sufficient.”
“And because of that you’re telling me to accept that there’ll be some victims? Uh, we may be enemies, but that doesn’t sound like you.”
The Herald-raven made a disgusted expression.
“As vexing as it is, a thousand lives cannot replace ten thousand. Since more lives can be saved by you remaining alive, I am forced to recommend that. If it were possible, I would gladly set down an Echo and slay him myself. But unfortunately, thanks to a certain someone, I have been rendered impotent. Thanks to a certain someone.”
He made no attempt to hide his bitterness.
“D-Don’t any of the other gods look like they’ll make a move?”
“They have their own plans, on a far greater and all-encompassing scale. Gods like Gracefeel and myself, who rejoice and weep over the joys and sorrows of the little people, are if anything eccentrics.”
I said nothing.
“This plan does not please me, either. But I believe it to be the best plan in the current situation. Think on it very, very carefully, flamebearer, knight of faraway lands.”
With a loud flap, the Herald-raven spread his wings.
“Farewell. We shall meet again before long.”
He flew off into the mist. Al and I watched him go in silence, my expression bitter and Al’s a little disconcerted.
“He’s looking after you,” Al said.
“No, he’s got his eye on me.” I hadn’t forgotten about the death threat he gave me when I destroyed his Echo before, even if he had now apologized for it.
“They say that the gods desire heroes, people who will spread their divine message and carry out their will on earth.”
“Yes.”
“And you’re a hero who represents the god of the flame, so...”
“The god of undeath wants to put me in his debt, I bet.”
Rather than being hostile to me, he was trying to become someone beneficial to me. By doing so, he was intending to slowly mollify my hostility towards him and exploit those past favors to gradually, very gradually, break me down. For an instant, I pictured myself reduced to an undead knight. I shook my head to rid myself of that sinister image. Stagnate was very well versed in subtle manipulation.
“What do you plan to do from here?” Al asked, concerned. “The god of undeath said that even you... um... couldn’t beat the dragon.”
“Good question,” I said. “I wonder what I’m meant to do.”
I had no good answer for him.
◆
The creatures of the forest had been driven to panic by the dragon’s howling. I got back in a hurry and was immediately swamped with requests to take care of the damage they were causing. Reports had been coming in from all over. I dispatched adventurers and priests to many different places and busily exchanged letters with Whitesails.
Now, some time after, everything had finally settled a little. I was in Torch Port. The dragon’s roars were still continuing intermittently. At the same time, conflicts were occurring because of all the creatures changing their habitats, although they weren’t going as crazy as the first time this had happened. Naturally, we were starting to see victims as well. Fewer people and horses were traveling on the roads, and I got the impression that the ships going back and forth looked a little lonely on the river.
Everyone was terrified of the dragon—and the rumors that those were a dragon’s roars spread incredibly quickly—that lived in the Rust Mountains. Dragons were that much of a threat. It would only have to wake up and take to the sky on a whim, and never mind Torch Port, even Whitesails could be destroyed. It’s a fact that everyone dies sooner or later, but how many people could remain calm after hearing the roar of their own death?
At the moment, I was in the gloom of my office with all the shutters closed, passing my eyes over a letter from the temple under magical light.
A reply to my letter had arrived from Bishop Bagley.
The information he had found about the foul-dragon backed up what the god of undeath had revealed to us. Valacirca, Calamity’s Sickle, was an Elder Dragon who had been alive since the time of the gods. Its claws tore through steel and its scales broke the swords of heroes, and as if to reflect its own nature, it had breath of toxicity and mania.
Toxicity and mania. I could never forget those properties. They were the same as the abnormal wyvern and chimera I had encountered two years ago. Those creatures were said to have been created from evil research carried out by hell’s demons. They had probably been experimenting using the breath that spilled from the mouth of the foul-dragon as it slept, and mixing that breath with beasts and attempting to tame them.
In his letter, Bishop Bagley warned me that there was unmistakably a high-level demon there in addition to the foul-dragon. At length, he attempted to dissuade me from fighting, saying that I was not experienced enough, that he couldn’t imagine me winning, and that there would be no shame in running away.
“No shame in running away, huh?”
He was saying that because he thought that I would go. What had made him think that? How exactly did he perceive me? I was still agonizing over that decision myself...
The dragon would probably awaken soon. If the god of undeath and the Lord of Holly’s words meant anything, there would be casualties, too. The first thing that was likely to happen was that the dragon, once awoken, would attack a nearby settlement on a whim, and people would die.
It wouldn’t end there. There’s no way a lively, smooth circulation of money and goods could exist in a place that a dragon could fly over at any moment. The flow of things would stagnate, the to-and-fro of horses and ships would cease, and beasts would once again stalk human settlements as if they owned the place. Traders and manufacturers that depended on that circulation of money and goods would fail one after another, and people would start to become jobless. The destitute would turn to crime, public order would worsen, the government would become powerless, and its authority would hit rock bottom. Far more people would probably drown under the waves created in the wake of the dragon’s whim than ever succumbed to its claws.
A complete region, a whole society, would be brought to ruin by a single dragon. That was a situation I couldn’t allow. I had to take action to stop it, and after the dragon got started would be too late. Once there were direct victims, it would be impossible to stop the effect from spreading. I had to solve this problem before dragon fangs ever ripped into human flesh.
Yet even now, I couldn’t make the decision to take action. The word around town was that some people were saying the paladin had turned chicken. I couldn’t call that complete and total nonsense, either.
— Thou shalt challenge the dragon with the protection of the god of the flame and die defeated, thy purpose not fulfilled.
I hadn’t been able to sense any deception in the god of undeath’s words. His revelation was true. I couldn’t win, not right now, with the power I currently had. Ever since I’d become aware of that, I’d been unable to move forward.
Before I knew it, my hands were together in prayer.
◆
I didn’t know what to do. I offered an imploring prayer to the god of the flame, but I felt no response at all. My god wouldn’t answer me anything. Of course not. God wasn’t a chummy friend or a useful business contact. But I wanted to hear her voice right now. I wanted her to tell me there was a way I could win. Or even if there wasn’t, I wanted her to order me to fight and demonstrate my righteousness. If she would say that to me, if I could just have her say that to me, I was sure I could head into battle.
I let out a small groan. Memories of my previous life flashed into the back of my mind: a dark room, the light of a monitor. Myself, unable to take that step forward. Time passing idly.
Time passing idly.
The feeling of restlessness burning in my chest.
Time passing idly.
Groaning.
Shedding tears.
Time still passing idly.
Unable to take that step.
Unable to take that step.
I tried to summon the courage many times, but I still couldn’t take that step. Unable to step out, I continued bathing in the status quo long after the water had lost its pleasant heat. And the final collapse grew gradually closer.
I groaned again. How much had I changed since that time? My world was different. My environment was different. I had a muscular body, wondrous magic powers, miracles from God. I had been given, I had obtained, abilities like the hero of some story. I had been acting the part this entire time.
And what had changed about me?
I was stronger and could do more now. So what? Had I become able to cope with failure? Had I become able to do something to combat despair? In the end, wasn’t my spineless nature still just the same as my previous life?
I heard a thick, muddy voice coming out of a pit of coal-black mud deep inside my heart. Did you have fun, it said, winning against opponents you had no chance of losing to? It must have felt very good, being praised to the skies as a hero and acting modest. Were you able, for a brief moment, to think you could become someone successful in this world? Being loved, being raised. Obtaining incredible power. Being the center of all your friends. Being respected, being validated. You enjoyed all that, didn’t you?
But when you can’t win, this is what you are.
The voice gurgled out of the black pit of mud deep inside my heart. Deep down there was my past self of my previous life. And “I” laughed, as if to say, You know, really, don’t you?
You are me, and I am you.
I clutched my chest. I understood. Even I understood. I understood very well that I was only being weak-spirited. It was the side of me that felt sorry for myself, just like the time when Mary told me off. But my mom wasn’t here to admonish me now, not anymore. I had to stand on my own two feet. But what was the way to do that? In my previous life, I just stayed down on the ground. Even this life was no different. I would have stayed down forever if not for Mary. I had no idea how it was possible to stand back up.
My thoughts went around and around in circles. I knew I’d fallen into a bad state, but I had no clue what I was supposed to do about it.
How long had I been lost in thought? I heard the sound of a knock and looked up.
“Coming in,” Menel said, opening the door and entering without any hesitation. Noticing how dark the room was, he screwed up his face and quietly called out to a fairy of light to illuminate the room. “You’re still thinking about it.”
“Yeah.”
Menel sighed. “So that’s why you didn’t notice. Look outside. Things are getting a little bit hairy out there.”
“Huh?”
Now that he mentioned it, it did seem a little noisy outside. I opened the shutter a little
way and took a peek outside the window. There was a whole crowd of dwarves in front of the mansion.
◆
“We want to hear the paladin’s thoughts!”
“Does he mean to slay the dragon or not?!”
I could see Grendir, and Ghelreis, and others I knew as well. They were all old dwarves with crude weapons over their shoulders, calling out to be heard.
“And what do you intend to do with the answer?!” Facing them was Al, standing on his own in opposition to all the other dwarves. He no longer trembled as he did that day.
“If he is thinking about slaying it, we demand to go with him!”
“And if the spirit of fear has taken hold of the Paladin, we intend on heading to the mountains on our own!”
“We dwarves are to blame for the failure to slay this dragon!”
“It is dwarven blood that must be spilled!”
“Our dishonor must be washed away with blood!”
Voice after voice cried out loudly.
“Stop this! It’s suicide!” Al spread his arms and shouted back. “The dragon is a formidable foe, and the Paladin has a plan in mind! Do not disrupt it!”
“I don’t know what you’ve been ordered, but stop trying to stall for time!”
“I have not been ordered a thing! I am telling you not to be reckless!”
“You call us reckless?!”
“Even if all of you unite to take on the dragon, you will be unable to deal him a single scratch!”
“What did you say?!” One of the dwarves had had enough. Declaring that he was letting himself through to ask me my plans, he stormed up to Al and made a grab at him.
“I told you to stop!” In a single flowing motion, Al knocked the dwarf’s arm out of the way, lifted him off his feet, and dropped him against the ground back-first. The crowd of dwarves broke into murmurs at this display of skill. “You are—You have aged, all of you, so much that you cannot even win against me! Stop this! I do not wish for you all to die meaningless deaths!”
As Al shouted out in a clear voice with his head held high, everyone was silent.
Then Grendir stepped forward and slowly opened his mouth to speak.
“Young master...”
“Grendir.”
The two looked at each other.
“Young master. You have grown well. You are a sight to behold. But, but you see, that is why...” Grendir’s face crumpled. “It has been long enough... We... simply want to die...” He forced the words out. “We wished to die with our lord, on that day, in that battle, on those mountains. We have lived two hundred years since death was denied us that day. They were long centuries, spent swallowing our pride as wretched vagabonds.”
Al listened in silence and didn’t shy away from his words.
“We kept telling ourselves we had done enough, we had done enough, we had had enough, our obligations were fulfilled... and now, finally, we have learned that detestable dragon is alive! What is so wrong with wishing to continue from that day?! What is so wrong with wishing for battle and death?!” Grendir grabbed hold of Al as he shouted. Al allowed it and grabbed back firmly. “Let me pass! I will make the Paladin speak his mind!”
“I refuse!”
Grendir’s aged yet still muscular body soared through the air before slamming down in the yard. As if that was their signal, the other old dwarves descended on Al. Al struck them, threw them, and floored them. There were a few minutes of shouts and groans as they scuffled, and at the end, it was Al who remained standing.
“You asked me what was so wrong, Grendir.” Al stood tall as he addressed the dwarves lying flat and groaning in the yard. “All of your heads are so full of thoughts of death that you are not thinking of victory. That will not do. You must know that. When the proud warriors of the mountains lay down their lives and charge into battle, they do so to win.” His eyes were earnest, and his voice was kind. “It was all of you who taught me this.”
— One thing is always on their minds, day in and day out. The question of what is worth laying down their life for. What is their reason to fight. Blood’s words revived in my mind.
“It’s okay. Don’t worry. I will make you all a promise.”
— And when they find it...
“The Paladin will make up his mind. And when he does, I will go with him, and we will win back the glory of the dwarves!”
— They go into battle with their souls burning with the fire of courage, and never once fear death.
“I, Vindalfr, grandson of Aurvangr, last monarch of the Iron Country, swear upon my grandfather’s name that I will take back the mountains that were once his!”
That cry was felt not just by the dwarves but by me as well. My heart beat loudly, and a heat spread through me from deep inside my chest. Now that I thought about it, Al had always been this kind of person. He was like this when I first met him in the tavern, and he was like this when he cried out that he’d become my squire. He had always been someone brave, and I had sworn to protect the ‘sincerity’ he offered me with my own hands.
“He’s pretty cool,” Menel muttered.
“Yeah.” I nodded.
“We’ve gotta keep up.”
“Yeah.”
“Hey, do you remember?”
“Remember what?”
“Your oath.”
I couldn’t help but give a small smile. “Sorry. I forgot it for a moment.”
“Heh. I thought as much.”
— I dedicate my whole life to you! As your blade I will drive away evil, and as your hands I will bring salvation to those in sorrow!
“You go through working out pros and cons and whether you can win or not, but the final outcome’s always been something you never bother to think about. Am I right?”
If pros and cons were what concerned me, I could have left Beast Woods alone. I could have gone literally anywhere else.
“You did what you did ’cause it was the right thing to do. So all you gotta do is keep that up.”
Menel smiled. I smiled back.
There was no need to think about how to stand up or summon courage. As you struggle desperately forward to protect someone or fight for something you believe in, courage comes afterwards all by itself.
◆
Once I’d made my decision, the rest was quick.
I walked to my front door with Menel, who was kind enough to come with me. I think we were both smiling. I opened the door and, in front of Al and all the other dwarves, including the dirt-covered one who’d been thrown on the ground, I made my declaration.
“I will slay the dragon!”
Everyone stopped moving with the same shocked look on their faces.
I composed my expression and posture and continued speaking. “I have decided that I will go to slay the dragon. Al—Vindalfr—I commend your words about taking back your grandfather’s mountains. Will you accompany me?”
Al’s eyes went round. He broke into a wide smile, his hazel eyes glittering. “I had faith you would say that. Gladly!”
Menel shrugged. “You sure you want to accept that easy?”
“That’s rich coming from you, Meneldor. You’re planning to follow him no matter what happens! You’re not fooling anyone!”
“He’s learned to defend himself.” Menel laughed and gave him a nod. “We’re against a dragon, so numbers aren’t gonna help. And we can’t spare too many people who could defend the villages, either. We’ll take you, me, Will, and someone who knew the mountains two centuries ago to show us the way.”
“I would—”
“No, I will go.” Ghelreis, the dwarf with the scar, stopped Grendir as he tried to volunteer, and he put his own name forward.
“Ghelreis, you—”
“I can’t leave this to someone without a will to live. Besides, you have a duty to unite your fellows.” I noticed that Ghelreis’s clothes weren’t dirty. It looked as though he had managed to stay out of that frenzied fight and hadn’t taken Al on, either. “I will guide you.”
“Thank you very much.” I was thankful to have someone composed.
So we had me, Menel, Al, Ghelreis...
“And me.” Reystov appeared from behind a building. “I’ve packed already.”
I chuckled. As usual, Reystov wasn’t one to let a challenging foe pass him by. “Very glad to have you on board. Looks like we’re decided.”
“So us five men are off to pick a fight with demons and a dragon. It’s not gonna be a pretty trip, that’s for sure.” Menel laughed. “Do we have some kind of winning strategy?”
“No,” I said definitively. I may have been undecided for a good number of days, but I hadn’t been wasting my time doing nothing. I had been giving my magical equipment a check-up, turning the pages of my spellbooks, and moving my body as I remembered my training with Blood. And as I did all this, I thought of all kinds of plans. As a result of all that thinking, I was forced to a single conclusion. “There’s no surefire way to kill a dragon.”
They weren’t so easy that you could do something about them with a cunning plan or unusual item. That was what made them dragons. But, at the same time, this world was real. It wasn’t a computer game with systems like levels and hit points. It was possible to get unlucky and be easily killed by something much weaker than yourself, and conversely, it was possible to get lucky and kill something stronger. At the end of the day, a dragon was a living being with a body of flesh, and if its head was chopped off or stabbed through, or its heart was impaled, it would die. As low as the probability of victory was, I was certain that it couldn’t really be absolutely zero, no matter what the god of undeath said. Of course—
“The odds aren’t good. Will you still come with me?” I looked around at everyone.
“Yes, sir!” Al was the very first to nod. His eyes were clear and earnest.
“That’s where honor and glory are.”
“There could be no greater satisfaction for a warrior.”
Reystov and Ghelreis spoke calmly, with the dignity of seasoned warriors.
“I’m used to having to deal with your craziness.” Menel shrugged his shoulders, and so it was settled.
I declared it anew—
“Let’s go. To slay the dragon and take back the mountains!”
Everyone who had come to see what the fuss was about joined the dwarves in raising a huge cheer.
◆
Sometimes, when you finally make the decision to do something and start the ball rolling, unexpected good luck can follow. This was one of those times.
With our departure looming, I penned letters to the bishop and His Excellency, brother to the king, in which I explained all the details of the situation and humbly requested for them to take care of things while I was gone. After that, I went out to my yard and was inspecting my equipment there when a red blob came hurtling towards me. I caught it in a hug, and within a moment we were holding hands and spinning around.
“Wa-haaa!!” She let out a cheerful squeal of laughter. I hadn’t heard this voice in a while. “Heheh. It’s the one and only... ME!”
“Bee! Long time no see!” Clutching my hands was a playful halfling troubadour with ears pointed like leaves and red and curly hair—Robina Goodfellow! “I haven’t seen you for months. Where were you this time?”
“Hehe. Grassland to the north. I started at the Fertile Kingdom, then I went around the coast visiting the Allied Kingdoms to the west. And now I’m back!”
“That’s amazing!”
Most of that area, I only knew through books and rumors. She traveled to so many more places than me. The circumstances of this unstable place had me running around so much that I hadn’t even managed to cross to the northern continent at all yet.
“Was it cooler in the north?”
“Yeah, but listen, listen!”
“What?”
“A dragon roared, right?! You’re going off to kill it?”
“Yeah, I am.”
“Then I can make it into a story like we promised before?!”
“Of course. Be my guest.”
“Yahoo!” Bee did an excited little dance while still holding my hands. I ended up being spun around in the yard again. “It’s a troubadour’s dream to be able to make a new dragon-killing saga.” Bee laughed. “I’ll start by spreading around a prologue for you. You need one, right?” This smile was mature.
“Yeah, I really do. Thanks.”
Simply spreading that I had headed off to slay the dragon would do a lot to calm people, and the power of songs and stories was indispensable for that. They were this era’s media.
“It’s no problem. Just don’t give me a sad ending, okay?” She raised her eyes to mine as she said it.
I nodded. “I’ll work hard to make sure that doesn’t happen.”
“Yep. Do your best. ’Cause tragic endings are not popular right now!”
“The audience reactions are what you’re worried about?!”
As Bee and I laughed and talked nonsense to each other, Tonio came following after her.
“Bee, you’re in too much of a rush. Please don’t leave me behind.”
“Haha, sorry, sorry!”
“Will, I’ve secured you a full suite of everything I thought you might need, including provisions, travel gear and clothes, mountain equipment, and so on.”
Tonio didn’t disappoint. He was quick to prepare. Too quick, actually. I only just decided I was going...
“You went ahead as if I was definitely going?”
“Yes. In fact, I was very anxious that I might not make it in time for your departure. I was constantly expecting you to burst into action at any moment. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you are very quick to act once you know you have a battle on your hands.” Tonio laughed. “I’m not sure if you were deliberating or merely biding your time, but in any event, I confess myself relieved.”
“Imma make it so he was biding his time. That way’s cooler!”
“Don’t build it up like that! That’s the reason ‘Sir William’ is turning into this massive brawny man loaded with ingenious tricks!”
I’d happened to hear a poet who wasn’t Bee reciting a story about me on a street in Whitesails, and he was using phrases like “a towering giant of a man” and “eyes of profound wisdom.” Sure, a little bit of embellishment couldn’t be helped, but I thought that people around where I hung out made too big a deal of me.
“I hesitate like anyone else. I don’t want to die or get hurt or anything.”
“But you’re going, right?”
“Yeah. It’s a precious oath I made to my god.”
Bee smiled softly when she heard that. “I’m stealing that for my story. O champion of the flame, devout warrior who serveth God, may the winds of fortune be with thee!” She strummed her rebec.
Tonio smiled gently as usual. “Will, I won’t tell you not to overdo it or try anything crazy, because I’m sure now is the time you most need to push yourself. If there is anything else you need, please let me know.”
Feeling grateful for that offer, I thought for a moment and decided to execute one of the strategies I’d been brewing.
“I would like to ask you for one thing. It’s quite big...”
◆
Then, when I fell to sleep the night before we set off, I awoke under a starry sky of dancing phosphorescence. The ground below me was dark and reflected the stars like a vast plane of water, but in the water’s surface there was the large reflection of a faint light. It was behind me. I turned to see a figure holding a lantern-like light with a long handle.
The figure was wearing a hooded robe that covered the eyes. I already knew who it was.
“It’s very good to see you again, god of the flame.” I bowed my head, as I had some time ago.
“...”
My god gave no response. She stood there in silence for a little while, and then—
“Victory is very unlikely.”
She began with that.
“Stagnate is right. As you are now, you are not the dragon’s match. But if you spend a few years training, you may contend with him.”
“What will happen to Southmark in that case?”
“Man shall be there almost no more. Even the land to the north shall suffer.”
“I thought so.”
“You will go, then?”
I nodded. Then I bowed deeply to her once more. “Thank you for telling me it’s okay to run.”
I was surprised to sense slight unease coming from below her hood. Her silence felt as if she was carefully choosing her words.
Regardless of how I was feeling inside, I would probably have headed straight for the dragon if she’d simply ordered me to. I had that much of a debt of gratitude to this god of mine. And yet, for the entire time I was undecided, she didn’t respond to my prayers or give me any revelations. There had to be a reason, and I was sure I knew what it was.
“I... I would not that you should die.”
I couldn’t help smiling after hearing those kind words. “I’m honored. Thank you very much.”
“But still you say you will go? To hold to the oath you made to me.”
“Yes.”
“Then I shall not say it displeases me.”
I sensed a faint smile under her hood.
“The oath you made that day belongs to the two of us.”
— Please, go forth with me.
On that day, I had indeed said it: that I would dedicate my whole life to her, that as her blade I would drive away evil, and that as her hands I would bring salvation to those in sorrow. Yes, I had indeed made her that oath.
“Kneel.”
I got down on my knees and bowed my head. I heard her gently lowering her hood, and I felt her walking up to me.
“I command thee, William.”
She rested her small, white hand gently on my head.
“Fear thou not, for I am with thee. Be not dismayed, for I am thy god. I will strengthen thee; I will help thee; I will keep thee with my flame.”
My god’s Words and the feelings they carried slowly permeated through my entire body.
“Go, my knight. Slay the dragon and pay that which you have vowed.”
While still on my knees, I looked up at the face of the goddess smiling at me gently. I placed my hand on the left side of my chest and vowed.
“By the flame.”
◆
When I woke up, I could feel a warm energy slowly working its way around my body. My god’s words and feelings burned as a flame inside me.
Then we finished our preparations, had a huge celebratory send-off, boarded our river boat, left the city, and went down the river to slay the dragon and fulfill my oath. And that night, concealed by a nearby rocky section of riverbank, we got straight off the boat again.
“We’ll take ’er from ’ere,” one of the men said, slapping his shiny metal chestplate. A thirty-some adventurer with a red face, thick arms, and carrying a sword on his hip with a vibrant red sheath, he was one of those people who Reystov had called “bluffers” back in the tavern two years ago. I’d learned his name later; it was Marcus.
“Yes.” I nodded. “Just as we discussed, please.”
“Aye.” Marcus grinned. “Easy money. Thanks for the job as always.”
“Not at all.”
“’Ere’s ’oping for more in the future.” Then, after slapping Reystov on the shoulder and telling him to stay alert, Marcus and his team disappeared down the river.
Reystov and I quietly watched them go. When we turned around again, Al was looking at us blankly. Ghelreis also looked a little puzzled. Menel wasn’t showing much in his expression, but he looked as if he wanted to say something.
“Umm, why are we getting off here?” Al said. “It’d make sense after going a little farther, but—”
I nodded. Indeed, Al would be making a good point if we were going to continue down the river, cut through the forest, and aim for the mountain range to the west. However...
“The demons are just as aware that we would come that way.”
A look of epiphany swept over Al’s face, and Ghelreis nodded in understanding. Yes, in addition to the sleepy-eyed foul-dragon, those mountains were crawling with intelligent demons from Hell. If we were careless enough to act in a way our enemies were anticipating, we would be allowing them to seize the initiative.
“We had a rousing send-off down the river. I guess it won’t be long before the lowest of the demons and their familiars start watching from a distance. You know, to try to pin down where we’ll disembark. The leaders of the demons will probably want to predict the path we’ll take. They’ll be eager to surround us and kill us as soon as possible.”
It was unclear what kind of relationship there was between the demons and the foul-dragon right now. Were they cooperating, in opposition, or simply indifferent? I didn’t even know that much. I decided to remove from consideration the extremely optimistic picture that if the demons’ base was attacked, they would leave everything to the foul-dragon while they sat and did nothing. It was probably safe to assume that they would defend themselves at least independently, or worse, by working together.
In just the same way that I’d been checking my equipment and gathering various kinds of information while I was making my decision, I was of course also thinking of a strategy for how to attack the mountains.
“Which is why...” I walked along the riverbank to a place tucked away behind some rocks. Al followed me, and his eyes went wide. What was there was the sleek silhouette of a river boat that I’d had Tonio secretly arrange for me. A surprise attack would have been the ideal situation, but the Rust Mountains were untrodden ground, which meant we couldn’t use a fairy trail. So the method I’d chosen was this one. “We’re going up the river.”
The Rust Mountains were once called the Iron Mountains, and a country of dwarves had prospered there. At this era’s level of technology, it would be impossible for a major city to exist anywhere except beside a large water source. Which meant that naturally, there had to be an enormous flow of water into the area. By analyzing geographic information from neighboring areas, I discovered that it was a branch of this huge river. I also confirmed it with the dwarves themselves.
The river forked somewhere further upstream and flowed to the west, so if we went upstream and then went back down again at the point where the river forked, we could invade from the other side of the mountain range.
“While the demons are all on guard around the front entrance, we’ll break in by kicking down the back door.”
That was why I’d asked Marcus and the others to be decoys. They would throw off the eyes of the demons for us, toying with them by disembarking, all breaking up and going separate ways, then coming back, going out with the boat again, and doing that over and over again all the way down to Whitesails. Now that’s living up to the reputation of bluffers.
Incidentally, Bee supervised their disguises. She really got into it, giving advice like, “Act knighty, you know, kinda like you’re used to fighting! Oh, the handsome look is good, but don’t hit on anyone! Oh, and definitely don’t be wishy-washy, that’s even worse!” Thanks to her, their group took on the perfect image of the Paladin and his party that had been spread through song and poetry.
We paid them a more than satisfactory reward, and their morale was high as well after Bee declared that if we succeeded, she would tell the story of the Shadow Knights along with the story of my slaying of the dragon. And if some low-ranked demons attacked them, they had the people to deal with it, so I was confident they’d do a good job.
The only question remaining was whether we could make our way to the back side of the mountain range through the other route unnoticed while the demons’ eyes were on our diversion. Or so I thought; Al seemed to have something else on his mind.
Menel gently slapped his shoulder a couple times. “You’ll get used to it. He makes moves like this from time to time. It’s like it’s nothing to him.”
“I, I’d heard that he was a man of wisdom and courage, but to think he had military talent as well...”
“I don’t think it’s that much of a big deal,” I said, a little confused.
Al shook his head. “If we go even farther south than Torch Port, we’ll be heading straight into the danger area that even includes that lakeside city where the High King fell! I heard it’s shrouded in a swirling magic fog that even seasoned adventurers can’t do anything about! If you’re suggesting that we deliberately choose that place to pass through—what an amazing, courageous idea!”
After hearing those words, I scratched my cheek, kind of lost for a reaction, and then said, “Uh... actually... that’s where I grew up.”
Every one of them gawked at me.
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