Each in Their Own Place

It wasn't quite a full reset, but Ilya was changing her plans.

The first thing she had to do was grasp the situation she had originally intended to handle through the communication network. Of course, she wouldn't neglect the rest of the branch's work either.

Investigating by manpower where in the world what kind of problems were occurring would take far too long and guarantee she would be reduced to reacting after the fact, so she struck that option down. A certain amount of being on the back foot had been priced in from the start, but even a small difference in timing could shift the situation enormously, so the less of it the better.

That said, [Detection] minus the insects could only reach about as far as Lunéville's diameter, so using maximum [Detection] to perceive the entire world would have to be her last resort.

(This time it won't even compare to the disaster-class designation that was the tyrant spider, so it can't be helped.)

Having decided, she first moved to a place she could keep out of sight. As a precaution, she set up a perception-disruption barrier, and the prep was complete.

"Haku, come over here. It's dangerous."

"Okaay!"

She scooped up Haku as she came pattering over, and dispensed with the incantations.

"Come, Seiran, Akagane, Botan, Hisui, Tampopo, Ouka, Kurogane, Shion, Ruri."

Nine circles were drawn, and as they rose they resolved into shapes. What manifested were vividly coloured beasts. Haku, whose eyes had been stolen by those one-of-a-kind forms, was charmingly enchanted, mouth hanging open.

"On this occasion…"

"How about you explain yourself first, hm? Master."

The pink fox who cut Akagane off (the great crimson-maned bird whose deferential opening she'd just trampled on) was Ouka. As she spoke, the pressure radiating off Akagane and Kurogane noticeably sharpened. But the very subject of their displeasure took no notice, her tail (which brightened toward the tip) drifting fluffily back and forth.

Ilya had never summoned all of them at the same time before, but it became clear that the earnest Akagane and the laid-back Ouka were a bad match.

"First of all, thank you all for coming. The reason I called you today…"

"That's not what matters!"

One of the waving tails was thrust at Ilya in indignation. As always, the fur was beautifully groomed and fluffy. Under any other circumstances Ilya would have wanted to mofumofu it immediately.

(Anyway…)

What besides the reason for the summons could she possibly want to ask? Ilya tilted her head, and Ouka all but shouted at her.

"The order of this summoning! Why was I not called first?!"

(Aaah…)

So that was the part that bothered her.

To Ilya it had been at best an idle ordering, but Ouka had apparently been deeply hurt; her voice broke into something tearful partway through. A few of the others, whether they hadn't paid it any mind before or only now realised it had been pointed out, began radiating something faintly ominous.

Meanwhile, the Haku in her arms was reaching out for the swaying tail right in front of her, only to have it nimbly evade her over and over. Despite the situation, Ilya found it impossible not to be charmed.

"Sorry. There wasn't any particular reason for the order."

I didn't call you in order of importance, nor in order of how lightly I think of you. When she explained that much, Ouka and the others who had been bristling were mollified.

Conversely, Seiran and Akagane seemed a little crestfallen at finding out there had been no meaning at all. Ilya decided to follow up with them later, and continued.

"I want all of you to go and see what's happening in the world right now."

At her words a few of them tilted their heads. The sight was adorable, but this was no time to be moe-poisoned by every little thing.

"Once you leave here you'll see it immediately, but problems are happening all over the world. I'd like you to find out where and what they are. Also, if you can, while you're at it, could you tell me where any of the children who've travelled with me before are right now? Just within what you remember."

"Like that little red imp-thing?"

"Yes, that one. Within what you remember is fine."

She stroked Tampopo as she answered. It was only then that she noticed all of them were already within arm's reach. Part of it was that her guard had relaxed, but most of it was the familiars' relentless effort to close the distance, however slightly.

That said, they were all huge, so the effect was absolutely overwhelming.

"I don't think you can go inside the sea, but please scan the surface just in case. And Kurogane, please cover underground."

"As you will."

The pure-black wolf Kurogane had a unique ability to slip into shadows. He could investigate not just any shadowed underground stretch, but also hollow spaces and lit human settlements.

"You only need to look at places that have settlements, so… ah, he's already gone."

Trusting in Kurogane's keen and resourceful wisdom, Ilya let the matter rest mid-sentence and turned back to the others.

"Don't push yourselves if it looks dangerous."

"Is that why you didn't call any of the other kids?"

"That's right, Seiran. There's no way I'm letting you be hurt over the world tree's selfishness."

"We're under contract, so Anesan's mana patches us up right away, you know."

She was well aware of that; it was a matter of feeling.

"Are there any questions?"

"Is there a time limit?"

"Hmm, the sooner the better. Ah, but of course, only as much as you can manage without pushing yoursel…"

Before she could finish the sentence, every one of them was already gone. Even better: they had scattered to all eight directions without overlap. Whether one called that perfect synchronisation or strange consideration, Ilya wasn't sure.

"Awwa… mofumofu…"

In the wake of the soundless departure, all that was left was the disappointed murmur of Haku, who had failed to catch the tail. If she really wanted to touch fluff, Ilya was thinking she'd offer up Elizah.

And so, until the familiars returned, she set herself to making progress on the branch's response.

 

*

 

"You're just going to lay a bridge? That's it?"

"Yes."

Ilya gave Frank and Hector a firm nod.

"Breaking the whole project into discrete stages is in consideration of monster habits you both already know."

"Monsters call their kindred, and grow stronger near humans, was it?"

"Yes."

She presented to them the diagrammed plan she had drafted on that premise.

The broad strokes: scout the monster distribution and earthquake damage from the air, where flying monsters were scarce due to the wyverns; while that was happening, plot the shortest routes to key points (villages and towns), taking terrain into account; next, drop felled trees across the fissures along those routes; finally, prioritize rescue, force deployment, and supply transport on the basis of the scouting data, and act in order of priority.

"… Are three or four logs across actually going to hold?"

"Of course we'll reinforce them with earth magic as we pass over them. As long as we don't reinforce until just before crossing, we also reduce the chance of monsters massing across."

"… Freezing them as well would do more to prevent monster crossing."

It would be dangerous if anyone tried to cross under their own power, but in the current situation she couldn't believe many people would be wandering around outside.

"Should we add an ice-magic user to the escort detail that accompanies the bridge-laying?"

"Yes."

Frank wrote "ice-magic user" into the gap she had left blank in advance, then continued the plan.

Once rescue and similar operations were complete, scout the monster distribution again. Coordinate with the other branches and towns on attack zones and ranges, then rise up at one signal, all at once. Wipe out the swarm before the habit-driven changes could kick in.

"Until then we ought to focus entirely on defense, huh."

"As much as we possibly can. For the sake of swift action, we want to minimize unexpected developments."

Hector was probably thinking of the people he had been forced to leave behind in other towns. Even so, he nodded as if satisfied. Meanwhile Frank, who had been mulling something over, spoke up.

"When we're escorting rescue or transporting supplies, we'll also need the kind of force that can clean up any monsters we run into on the spot."

"Yes. To secure that strike force, I decided we should split the work into stages rather than running them in parallel, sacrificing speed to make sure each step holds."

"I see."

Fortunately, Lunéville had all the guild members who had gathered for the arena, so combat strength wasn't going to be the issue.

If there was a problem, it was the other branches and other towns.

As if reading her mind, the two said:

"I'll pen a letter to royal capital headquarters and the branches there."

"The lords are my job… Or rather, I'd say so, but a parvenu upstart making the announcement might just provoke pushback, so I'll ask a contact at the royal capital to issue the notice in my stead."

"Please."

In a situation like this, anyone caught up in such petty status concerns was, in her opinion, unfit to be a lord. She kept that disgust inside her own head and focused on the meeting.

"What about our branch's stockpile?"

"If we switch to simpler meals and process them to keep, we can manage for a month even with the surrounding villages' population folded in."

"There's also the share we hold in trust for the kingdom. We have plenty of margin to send some out."

Frank continued, nodding at Hector's words.

"Even so, the strain of holding the line is mental as much as physical. We should act before the strain undermines command structure."

"Haste makes waste, but we don't have the luxury of taking our time. So we tighten the plan and move quickly, then."

He had called himself an upstart self-mockingly, but his decisions had the speed of someone who actually knew the field.

These two were genuinely dependable.

In truth, once they got down to serious discussion, Ilya barely had a part to play. That was how she saw it, anyway, but the very fact that there were people who would correct her if she ever got something wrong was an enormous source of support for them.

In any case, while Ilya stayed in support mode, the meeting concluded. Hector and Frank moved into action immediately.

 

*

 

"… Bow your head. Or do empty heads just float?"

Lightning flashed along with the languid voice, and in the next instant a thunderclap split the ears.

The ones being scorched by lightning, withdrawing without the luxury of even wiping the sweat the pain was wringing from them, were of the beastkin tribe, the most accomplished hunters of all the races.

The Windia Chieftain Federation, where the heads of every race gathered. The winged scaleless serpent that had suddenly appeared over their lands had been raining destruction down with its lightning.

Flora and fauna struck by lightning died; some lamented the scorched and ruined crops, but no one cowered in terror or broke into despair.

Even so, the confidence of being among the chosen elites of his race…

(Was it just arrogance?!)

Just what was he, exactly — the man who had laughed at rival races for charging the serpent first to claim influence in the federation, losing lives, then limping home defeated? Gnashing his teeth so hard they chipped, he watched himself and his kin retreat without even managing to spit a curse at the serpent, who clearly didn't deign to pursue fleeing prey.

To overestimate his own strength and misjudge an enemy's…

(Pathetic!)

At the corner of his vision he caught a glimpse of birdkin, flying faster than an arrow. Their technique was worthy of admiration: flying not just in straight lines but redirecting and dodging the rain of lightning by hurling knives wrapped around themselves to draw it off.

(But…!)

If that were all the serpent had, his kind would not have been left behind either. The moment he thought it, several of the spheres that hung in orbit around the serpent gathered together and traced a high-speed circle. The next instant, a beam of light thicker than the trunk of a great tree lit the sky.

The roar followed at once. He flinched in spite of himself, but recovered his footing instantly and broke into a run.

(Those orbs! It's those orbs!)

There were always orbs drifting around the serpent, so he couldn't be certain of their number, but the interference they introduced was extremely troublesome.

Like magic lightning, they could fork a single bolt into many. They could electrify themselves and run spherical lightning arcs along their surfaces. And the beam of light he had just seen had been fired diagonally at the birdkin, not from sky to ground.

They were now far past assuming the serpent's tricks ended there. Considering the damage so far, one could even say they should have come to that conclusion much sooner.

He had probably disappointed the chieftain who had chosen him. He might face accusations of incompetence. Even so, before the serpent stopped showing this restraint, before it started getting serious, they needed to get serious.

While he ran, the lightning flashed and the thunder roared again.

(Tsk, not again…!)

Some race had probably moved in to engage, or tried to. Which meant their fighting strength was being whittled down even further.

He had to reach his chieftain as quickly as possible and somehow convince him to cooperate with the other races.

(Can it be done…? No, it has to be, or the chieftain himself will be in danger…!)

His race did not have especially high magical aptitude. Even if they were managing now, there was no guarantee that the barrier the magicians had put up would hold against the serpent's lightning if it got serious. Ideally they would relocate to the assembly hall, where the barrier was the federation's combined best, but he could already see the verdict if he proposed it: "Are you telling us to be sneered at as cowards?"

(What do I do…)

He returned to the chieftain's grounds with no settled argument in hand, only to find the guards who were protecting the barrier-casting mages talking with someone of another race.

Judging by their clothes, however, they weren't federation residents. They were travelers.

"How many times do I have to say this?! You guys are all underestimating that serpent! That's probably an evil god, you know?!"

"H… have you got proof?"

"It matches the descriptions we were told! Anyway, I have a great spirit with me right here?! If you won't believe a great spirit's word, whose word would you believe?!"

"Mn… no. We can't let outsiders through."

"Hah?!"

The three of them (though only two, a young man and woman, were doing the talking) seemed visibly stressed, but the guard was rebuffing them.

The Reizen of the past would have considered it the obvious response and acted exactly the same.

"You'd rather die for your pride?!"

"Y… you, do you mock us?!"

"Stop."

"R… Reizen-sama! You're unharmed!"

At his voice the guards (and especially those who could use recovery magic) hurried over. Receiving treatment, Reizen turned to face the three.

They were young enough to still be called boys, but the air around them was that of veteran warriors.

"I am the captain of the guard detachment, Reizen. And you are?"

After the guard's flat refusal, his attitude must have been a surprise. After a stunned beat the boy grinned and said,

"We're the mercenary guild [Stars of the Eternal Night]! We just happened to be in the neighborhood, so we figured we'd come knock down an evil god!"

 

*

 

The Archipelago Countries Alliance: the federation of islands across one stretch of sea, made up of around twenty member nations.

The sight of countless ships of every kind, large and small, trade and fishing, criss-crossing the open ocean used to be magnificent. Right now there wasn't a single vessel out at sea.

"Aaahh, I'm so booored…"

"Sorry. But thanks."

Being patted on the head by the little person stuck to the top of it, the girl racing across the sky touched down on one of the islands.

The great port that had once been a bustling, almost noisy spectacle was gone. Bits of shattered masts, debris, fragments of stalls were all strewn around. The pillar of a blown-away open-air shop had been driven straight through someone's window. Looking at the devastation, the girl unconsciously clenched her fists.

She had come to a sturdy stone building. The structure was designed to withstand waves and high winds, and right now many of the chieftains had gathered inside.

"Oh, welcome back, Nina. Here, before you catch a chill."

"Thank you!"

A familiar woman must have been waiting for her. The moment she passed through the entry gate, the woman held out a towel. As Nina wiped her hair and body, she saw a man approaching from deeper inside.

"Thank you, Sylph-sama. And good work, Nina. So how was it?"

"Mm… it got away again, after all. Sylph can cancel the wind, though…"

"I see… no, it's enough that you've kept That Thing away from inhabited areas. We're grateful."

The "That Thing" the man spoke of was a cat-faced bird that had appeared over the Alliance.

A few days earlier, a sudden, savage downdraft had swept over the Alliance under what had been gentle waves and clear skies. Every loose thing was flung as if hammered into the ground. Both sea and land became scenes of devastation.

Suspicion at first fell on Nina and Sylph (had they triggered a great spirit's wrath?), but their own investigation quickly identified the strange bird as the cause and the suspicion was lifted.

The bird spent nearly all its time in the air and bolted the moment anyone closed in. Its speed was such that no ordinary mage could keep up, and as soon as it lost them it would conjure another downdraft. Repeat indefinitely; damage kept escalating.

Without Nina (no ordinary mage) and Sylph (who could cancel the wind), the damage would have spread even further. For some reason, the bird stayed strictly within the bounds of the Alliance.

"How are the people on the other islands?"

"With the injured included, there are still a lot of them stuck where they are."

If the ships hadn't been wrecked they could have gone to rescue them. As things stood it wasn't even certain whether they could secure a safe location capable of housing that many people.

"Isn't there something we can do…"

The moment Nina started to think about it,

"…!"

"…! …!"

A shouting match erupted from the door at the back.

"Did something happen?"

"Aa… the unharmed lot have come barging in on the headman. I get that they want to avenge their dead as soon as possible…"

Avenging the dead was a given, but unless they removed whatever was causing this disaster, there was no recovery either. Everyone felt the same. The problem was that they had no method of subjugation in hand.

"Where's Darling?"

"If he isn't back yet, he's still doing the rounds of the other headmen. We have to start thinking about food aid from the still-safe islands too, after all."

There were many things to think about. The least useful of them all was this: arguing internally.

"Right, Boku's going to go say a word!"

"Hah? Wait, Nina?!"

Nina charged in, but her intervention couldn't possibly settle the matter, and the fruitless argument went on: shouting, debate, and noise without end.

 

*

 

"What… is this…"

The one who muttered it was a fisherman who plied Lake Shura, the largest lake of the Sacred Reinhardt Empire.

The Empire was currently in what would correspond to summer, but the heat had become so unbearable that he couldn't sleep even when he wanted to. Hoping to catch even the slightest cool air at the waterside, he had stepped out of his house.

Lake Shura supplied the Empire with not only fish and an abundance of aquatic produce but also vital water for agriculture and drinking. It was an indispensable source.

But now that lake was… gone.

"A… a dream… right?"

The lake had dried up.

The unnatural heat that was still wringing sweat out of him was the same as before, but a separate, crawling chill ran up his back. Unable to believe his eyes, he edged warily down to the lake's former rim, and there in the darkness, he saw something moving.

(… A person?)

Looking again, it was indeed human. The figure was clearly heading somewhere, and when he realized it was making for the centre of the dry lakebed, he turned his gaze further out in that direction.

Peering through the faint light of the stars overhead, he eventually made out something undulating. It looked like a sphere, but he could see it deform too, as though it had elasticity. He had never seen such a thing.

While he watched, the figure was approaching the something…

"Hu? Hot…"

A red flash. The instant he saw it, the man felt a heat as if he were being burned, and his consciousness was severed.

The figure that had been approaching, the fisherman of course, and several lakeshore towns: all melted. Evaporated.

"… … … …"

What was left was the undulating body itself, silent, exhibiting only a faint peristaltic motion on the spot.

The news of this only reached the Emperor two days later. Even then, the report was that the river water had stopped flowing; the abnormal heat that ringed the lake (apparently rejecting the existence of life itself) made the area difficult to investigate, and the root cause was not identified.

Even as they were organizing an investigation team, the damage to the Empire continued to spread.

 

*

 

Scene change: Filéalemis Empress-State.

In the basin that ran east-to-west from the Rondéville Kingdom border, on flatlands as distinct from the southern desert as could be imagined, wheat and orchards flourished.

When traveling from another country to Filéalemis' capital Aremisia, going up from the southern port city was the shorter route. But the desert crossing was an ordeal in its own right; most travelers took the slightly longer route through the mountain road and onto the safer plains.

Following that customary route, a peddler was traveling those plains.

But the speed of the wagon was abnormal.

"Wuhwawawawa…!"

The merchant (the driver) was getting his eyes spun in his head, but the horses pulling the wagon had no time to spare for him.

Neither did the fairy clinging to the top of the canopy, nor the boy keeping pace with the wagon on his own two legs.

"Gabu-kun, right side, here it comes!"

"Got it!"

The horned boy, Gabriel, accelerated and bounded across in one leap to the right side. His sword, drawn at a speed that defied the eye, severed a high-speed vine that had been about to coil onto the wagon bed.

Up, down, left, right, and front and back too.

It wasn't just vines that came at them. Sharp-thorned brambles, plants resembling Venus flytraps with open jaws ready to bite, every conceivable shape attacked.

"Just a little further! Hold on!"

"Pasha, don't push yourself."

"It's fine! This one's still got it in him!"

Pasha was re-casting body-enhancement on the horses; the response that came was a cheerful one.

Ever since they had entered Filéalemis from the west and been ambushed by the strange plant masses sprouting suddenly out of the ground, they hadn't taken a proper break.

The town they had passed midway through had already been trampled by the plants; the orchards there were beyond recognition. Casting body-enhancement on the horses and hacking through the oncoming plants, they were fleeing along the road, but the assault still showed no sign of letting up.

It was as if the whole of Filéalemis had become a seedbed for the plants.

The trembling merchant, who had been thinking exactly that, witnessed a small person hop onto Gabriel's shoulder. The little fellow, with a broken-tipped pointed hat and a tri-plaited beard, was the great spirit Gnome. He drew close to Gabriel's ear.

"I've kept you waiting, master."

"Mm-mm. Thanks. How was it?"

"West and north are no good. East and south have yet to extend their roots; pressing on this way should be no problem."

Slicing down the pebble-volleys spat by some of the sprouting flowers, Gabriel raised a question.

"But they're coming at us from in front, too, you know?"

"Aye. These ones are reacting to creatures that have come within range of roots that were already laid in. With the roots' advance halted as it is, we should be able to push through."

"Right."

To a third party listening in, the reaction "That's it?!" would have come naturally, but Gnome didn't appear to mind in the slightest.

"Pasha, just a little more, he says. Let's keep at it."

"Yeah!"

Beside them, vines wound around the city walls of a town, and the walls collapsed in ruin. The plants inside the walls weren't moving. That signified there were no living beings left within.

 

*

 

"It's your turn."

At those words, the woman who had been keeping her eyes closed opened them and let out a deep breath.

Sensing the man beside her pour mana into the magic circle drawn on the ground, the woman rose, slow and heavy. Reading the depth of her fatigue, the man said "Good work" by way of comfort.

"Yeah. Go give it your best."

Forcing her body upright as it threatened to give from a head rush, she lifted her gaze, and her sight was filled with a wall of black.

She couldn't make out anything beyond it, but she had been informed of what had happened.

A volcanic eruption.

It was a disaster that had been anticipated as inevitable someday, but the lack of any major precursor signs had caught the Mithledge Kingdom (which had Mt. Fyaguraja) entirely off guard.

Without the barriers laid in preparation for an eruption, they wouldn't have had a moment to spare for panic.

"Good work."

"Good work～. Finally done～"

When she stepped away from the barrier with the other woman who had been relieved, more colleagues just off-shift drifted over to gather around them.

There were enough of them that even all the fingers and toes wouldn't have counted.

By layering multiple barriers, each catching different things (streaming lava, flying lava bombs, volcanic ash), they could raise the strength of each individual barrier. And because the perimeter had to be wide enough to envelop the entire capital, a substantial number of people were needed to keep replenishing mana.

"The investigation team's first report was supposed to be today, wasn't it?"

"Was it?"

"It came in earlier. Heard it from the guy who relieved me."

It must have been a topic everyone was thinking about. Another voice joined the conversation between the two.

"The cause of the eruption… it's something else, you guys."

"" ? ""

The man drew the moment out deliberately, drawing the two in. They stopped walking.

"A monster's making it happen."

"Uwaa… can that even happen? That?"

"Are we gonna be okay here…"

They let out resigned-sounding murmurs and started walking again. The man would have liked a more interesting reaction, but he gave it up as unavoidable and followed them.

What they wanted most right now was their old life back. Knowing that wasn't going to happen, the next best had bumped up to first place: rest.

Asking exhausted-to-the-bone barrier-maintainers for a juicy reaction was just cruel.

"A monster, huh… is it one of the famous ones?"

"Ah, they're going to start cross-referencing commission boards and forbidden-tome records now. Some are even saying it might be an evil god."

"Uwaaa… and on top of that, with York-sama away…"

"Hmm… forbidden tomes means that girl is going to help us, doesn't it?"

That girl.

To the words, everyone within earshot had the same image come to mind: a young dark-elf girl.

Talent of incomparable mind and magic. And her recent feat of striking down a demon and obtaining a magic-tool spear was still fresh on every ear. And she had done it all alone.

"Sure, if we ask her, she might answer. But whether she'll join the subjugation, mm…"

The disgust at her being a dark elf, one of the people who had once shattered the world's harmony, together with the envy of her gift.

Even if she herself had never made any move to reach out, after carving such a long, deep rift, no one could just one-sidedly demand "cooperate."

To say it would only entrench the grudge further. They could all feel as much.

"The royal capital is… oddly quiet, isn't it."

When they came to the edge of the high ground, the capital's streets stretched into view.

Hardly anyone moved. A patrol soldier chasing a child stood out with strange clarity. Those who had connections in distant lands had packed up and left the capital; some slum child must have taken advantage of the empty houses to thieve.

If the barrier failed, even before lava overran them they would be smothered by the smoke. People could be admirably hardy or shockingly base, depending on how you looked at it.

In secret, the royal family had already evacuated, and the magic guild was in the middle of carrying out the more important research material. Once that was done, the magic guild itself might give up on fighting the monster and run. In fact, that might result in fewer deaths.

(… Hm?)

"What is it?"

"No, nothing."

She shook her head at the voice asking after her and resumed heading for the rest hut.

Among the residents walking the streets she could have sworn she had seen that girl, but it was unthinkable that anyone would be wandering around carefree under these conditions. It had to have been someone else who merely resembled her.

Anyway, they should pack to be able to evacuate at a moment's notice. Looking back over her shoulder at the volcanic ash billowing up to choke the heavens, the guild members thought it strangely casually.

 

*

 

The birdkin boy guild member was flying over Akradist's territorial waters.

The commission he had taken was: investigation. He had been chosen, out of all the flight-magic-adept birdkin, because of his cold-resistant lineage, and because of what was spread out beneath him.

Ice as far as the eye could see.

To determine how far the abnormality of the entire sea freezing over in a single night extended, the boy was crossing the heavens.

"What do I do… it doesn't look like this ends…"

He muttered it. The scale exceeded what he had imagined; an inner chill crept in. The thought of reporting this was almost as heavy.

For Akradist, whose entire economy was built on the sea, sealing off the ocean was a literal life-or-death issue. Anger that had nowhere to go and anxiety at the unending future were quietly turning into a vicious mood across the country.

If he reported "the sea was completely frozen" and "of course the cause is unknown," he could already feel the irrational anger he would be exposed to. The boy let out a sigh.

He absently followed the white plume of breath that streamed out, and at the far edge of his vision, he thought something moved.

(I can't exactly just turn back like this anyway…)

Half running from reality, he diverted his course and flew for a while. What came into view was…

"An island…?"

A jagged, lifeless stretch of rock without a sprig of green. Just as he thought as much, part of the island heaved upward.

"Wh…"

Not just heaved. The surface looked like rock, but precisely because he was watching from a distance, he could clearly see the joints and the shadow of pincers.

"C… a crab?!"

It was massive. Body the size of a small island; pincers no less giant. Then there was a more disturbing fact than even its size: the pincer count.

Four thick ones, four thin ones.

If legs, then… he dropped altitude and counted eight. The body wasn't half-buried in ice; he could distinguish the legs piercing through the ice. He felt a brief relief at the count being normal for a crab. Only briefly.

For what he saw next was: where the ice broke against the legs, the shattered fragments instantly dispersed into mist, and new ice formed across the sea surface in their place.

The implication…

"That's the cause?!"

It was as though it had heard his voice.

A raised pincer swung its tip around to glare at him like a snake locking onto prey.

It had to be his accumulated experience, young though he was. He hauled his stiffened body skyward with magic and yanked his altitude up sharply just as an ice arrow loosed from the parted pincers grazed beneath him.

Proportional to the pincer's size, those arrows were the kind that wouldn't pierce. They would atomize a boy his size on impact.

The instant his whole body broke out in goosebumps, he realized another pincer was tracking him, and he bolted like a rabbit.

"Hiiiieeeee!!"

The ice arrows brushed past him a few more times. Each grazing pushed the terror higher, and the boy's mind was entirely consumed with running. He kept flying without noticing the arrows had stopped coming.

 

*

 

"Damn it!"

The fist he slammed against the desk hurt enough that he should have noticed, but the chief of the Orbwight Kingdom's Guild Headquarters was too furious to feel it. The cause was a letter that had just arrived from the castle.

"'Do as you see fit' that useless lizard…!"

He raised his voice and kicked his chair flying.

Standing in front of him, the deputy chief was unfazed.

"Chief. That kind of remark would amount to lèse-majesté."

"What of it?! What's wrong with calling an incompetent incompetent?!"

It did amount to it, but the deputy chief judged there was no point further inflaming his anger and held his tongue.

Besides, that the current Orbwight king Clasta was incompetent was common knowledge to the populace and to every neighbouring country.

From the deputy chief's perspective, however, whether the man in front of him had any right to say so was a question worth asking.

"So, military aid is out of the question?"

"They'll defend wherever they're already stationed, and after that we're on our own, supposedly. Ridiculous. What do you want?"

The deputy chief held out several sheets of paper, with the bearing of a man finally being heard.

"Just now, written letters arrived directly from each branch we had lost contact with."

"Hmph. And what did those impertinent fools have to say?"

"Around the same time the sandstorm appeared, abnormal monster outbreaks were confirmed in every region, and they say the number of emergency commissions to issue may exceed the cap. They request a temporary lifting of the cap and a reallocation of the budget."

As the deputy chief finished his sentence, "Denied!" the chief shouted, slamming the desk and bellowing.

"Do those incompetents have any idea how much budget we've lost because they let the arena go?! Even Headquarters is straining for funds, and they have the gall…!"

From within that reduced budget, the deputy chief knew very well how much was slipping into the chief's pocket. He also knew the man was scattering bribes around the Gilderport executives so he could be transferred to another headquarters for his own preservation.

"Ha! 'May exceed the cap'?! They mean to claim phantom commissions and skim the funds, no doubt. I see right through such crooked schemes."

It took one to know one, the deputy chief thought.

He cast his eyes down, swore under his breath, then looked back up at his superior.

"Then, the request is to be refused?"

"Of course, you fool!"

"Understood."

The deputy chief bowed politely and withdrew.

(Time to wrap up, then.)

The disorder from the arena affair was still smoldering across every branch in Orbwight, and until that was settled he had figured that even an incompetent head was preferable to none.

But he hadn't been able to predict the chaos beyond that arriving so soon. With the sandstorm cutting off inter-guild communication across the country and every branch isolated, even the chief's few backers (parasites was a more accurate word) couldn't intervene.

And per the reports, the mental strain of being information-starved and isolated, plus the Guild Association's perpetual one-step-behind response, was breeding frustration among the guild members.

(So I'll redirect that and discard him.)

Then they would shift to offense against the monsters. If they could pull that off, the members' anxiety and suspicion over the political shake-up could be calmed.

(I'm sorry, but you'll have to endure until then.)

Just a little more patience. Telling himself as much as anyone, the deputy chief walked down the strangely quiet corridor.

Behind him, in the office, the chief was once more giving free rein to fresh anger, shouting at the walls, like the raging sandstorm whirling outside the window.

 

*

 

In a verdant stretch of forest, far from any human settlement, lay a spring.

It was perhaps a bit too large to still be called a spring, but the size wasn't what mattered. What mattered was that the spring existed at all.

At the centre of that spring (which carried a stillness one could almost call sacred) stood the great water spirit Undine. Her being there, guarding the place, was the very meaning of the village that surrounded the spring.

Before the elder governing that village, a young man took a seat.

"Elder, what is the state of the people?"

"More than half are unable to move."

"Still that poison mist?"

The elder's response to the youth's words was a heavy nod.

The poison mist had appeared several days ago.

With a spring at its heart, the appearance of mist was an everyday occurrence; some had felt unease about it, but no one realized the mist contained poison until people began collapsing.

The poison didn't only affect humans; animals and plants were affected as well.

And then, as if to pile on, a swarm of monsters had appeared.

Without the powerful barrier Ilya had erected with Undine before Undine left the village, and without the young man before the elder (York) returning together with Undine, the damage would have been catastrophic.

"You returned at the most opportune time. Did Undine-sama give you some signal?"

A great spirit, being a higher life-form than humans, would never pander to them. Even contracted partners weren't exceptions; the relationship was closer to friendship grounded in affinity than master-and-servant, and a great spirit would never share something it considered "not for humans to know," such as the core of its own being.

To put it the other way: that meant great spirits perceived things that humans could not, and the elder reasoned that maybe Undine had used that high perception to relay something to York.

But the answer from York was a flat "No."

What he held out instead was an ear cuff. The half-translucent stone set into it shimmered with a pale green light, marking it as a wind keseki.

"What is this?"

"A tool Ilya-sama sent to me, that lets us converse across distances."

The elder's face contorted with the jealousy welling up: why him, not me?

Pretending not to see it, York continued.

"There was a letter enclosed. The gist was, 'contact me in an emergency'."

To be precise, the letter had said: If you channel mana through it, you can contact me, so please reach out in an emergency. If we're lucky it will connect. I might also call from my end; sorry in advance if I happen to call at an awkward time.

He had no objections to the latter; for him Ilya occupied a position above any great spirit, and so her wishes and requests were absolute, which meant he treated the former as a command.

He was a troublesome young man.

"I received this while I was staying at the magic guild, but supposedly one other person, another with deep ties to Ilya-sama, has received one as well."

The "other person" was Lula, but the reason he hadn't said "the dark elf" outright was that the elder before him was, for better or worse, an elf's elf.

Oblivious to York's tact, the elder was straining to suppress an utterly undignified flicker of jealousy ("Wait, is this guy saying he's deeper-ties to Ilya than me?!"), and only managed by drowning himself in thought.

The effort paid off; he reached a conclusion.

"I see. Having two in the same place would be meaningless. Then she anticipated that trouble might arise in places with which she had strong personal ties."

"Yes."

The elder was pleased that his guess had been on the mark and let out a sigh of admiration at Ilya's foresight.

York felt the same; the awe at her depth (even though she'd cut ties with elves, she still hadn't abandoned them) only grew deeper in him.

Of course, the two were reading too much into it.

But the fact remained: indirectly, she had saved the village. Once Undine had arrived, the barrier was reinforced, and at the same time she interfered with the moisture in the mist and neutralized the poison.

Meanwhile the unharmed villagers, along with York and the elder, eliminated monsters and pulled the poisoned to safety.

The greatest piece of luck had been this: the poison wasn't time-progressive but accumulative on continued exposure. They still had no detoxifier or neutralization method, but although the number of poisoning cases was large, there had been no deaths yet.

A herald's voice broke into the two men's outward-drifting thoughts.

A woman beside them was murmured to by an elf who had run in. She bowed her head before the elder and reported.

"A report. The party we dispatched to search has returned."

"Status?"

"Yes. We searched the area where Undine-sama had cleared the mist, but we could not find anything that appeared to be the cause."

"Mm… Good work."

They had taken every available hand, and now they had run out of moves.

Undine's power kept the inside of the village safe, but with plant and animal life still being damaged, they didn't have the luxury of waiting things out.

"There's no choice, then, but for those who can neutralize the poison to push into the mist."

Fire that might evaporate the mist was off the table. Wind that would scatter it only seemed to invite the mist to reform. The mist hadn't been there at all until just before York arrived in the forest, so they had concluded the mist was artificial.

Which was why they hesitated at the notion of attacking an unknown enemy with so few hands.

"Um… shouldn't we contact Ilya-sama?"

The elf at their side, Nadia (the talented woman who had accompanied the elder as bodyguard when he visited Lunéville), felt the present situation more than qualified as an emergency.

But both men shook their heads.

The elder's reason was one she would have rolled her eyes at: a male's pride. We can't keep relying on her.

And the other's was:

"That she limited it to 'contact' surely means she's judged we can overcome this alone. Then we should give it our all."

A motivation built on trust.

Given that this was the village's elder and the great spirit Undine's contractor speaking, there was no room for objection.

Resolved to perform her duty as bodyguard, Nadia couldn't quite scrub away the unease lingering like a knot.

(If only, if only we had even a little more strength on hand.)

It was at moments like this that she resented the lot of the elves, who had so much difficulty even sharing information between their own villages.

 

*

 

Three days after the familiars scattered.

"Sigh…"

Adding their reports (which included information even the locals didn't yet know) to what the branch had on hand, Ilya thanked her familiars with affectionate scritches, dismissed them, and let out a single sigh in the privacy of her own room.

Including the eight places they reported on, plus Rondéville, the regions experiencing problems numbered nine.

Of those, four (the Windia Chieftain Federation, the Archipelago Countries Alliance, the Sacred Reinhardt Empire, and Filéalemis Empress-State) were called, in various senses, "sea-states": the Four Seas Nations.

And four (the Mithledge Kingdom, the Akradist Kingdom, the Orbwight Kingdom, and the Rondéville Kingdom) were the four "pillars" of the human world after the gods departed. They were the Four Pillars Kingdoms.

The Four Seas Nations and the Four Pillars Kingdoms. Together they were known as the Eight Great Nations.

Disasters striking all of them simultaneously was certainly not a coincidence. The fact that an elf village had also been targeted made it conclusive in Ilya's mind.

These disasters were arranged to drag her onto the front stage.

Drive more people to the brink. Stir up love of one's own kind.

That was probably what the Apostle was thinking, Ilya judged. But:

(I'm not such a nice or optimistic person that I'll bite when I know full well what's being offered.)

Without revising her plan, she pivoted to the next stage.

First: was the current setup capable of responding? Re-confirming it as she went, she couldn't help letting a wry smile slip.

(How do I put it… it's well made.)

"Over-engineered" might be the more honest word. Sure, some of the people in disaster regions had already been working there, but the way world-traveling individuals had been distributed across the regions without overlapping each other was almost too well done.

If the table was set this neatly, she decided, she might as well be glad of it.

"Let's see…"

In Windia, the three of [Stars of the Eternal Night].

In the Archipelago Countries Alliance investigating the abnormal wind: Nina and Elias.

In Filéalemis: Pasha and Gabriel happened to be staying there and had already won laurels driving off the abnormal plant outbreak, so they were likely to take the commission to subjugate its source: the evil god.

If the magic guild took the commission to investigate the eruption at Mithledge, Lula would be among them.

(This part I can only guess.)

Continuing.

Near Akradist there was Siren, who had no reason to leave the sea-freezing alone; she also had Tristan and Bahamut, so the missing attack power was no problem.

Orbwight was strained for combat strength on account of the arena affair and the previous war, but its king Clasta was a beastkin in the dragon god Jean's bloodline. Mass monster outbreak would also impact the neighbouring countries, so Orion was likely to participate as well.

(In the end he does care about Piskroza despite the way he talks.)

Rondéville had the many guild members who had gathered for the arena, plus its long-running effort to build up combat strength for moments like this. Nothing to worry about there.

The Empire had the King who, against anything but demon-element bearers, was overwhelmingly strong with his divine swords; and on the off chance the swords were ineffective against a particular monster, Torsti was there to win on sheer combat ability.

Ideally, of course, the evil gods would each face a champion whose attribute counter-resonated with theirs.

Filéalemis' "Largest Evil God" was Nina's match; Windia's "Highest Evil God" or the Alliance's "Fastest Evil God" suited Gabriel.

Akradist's evil god would suit Selena; Mithledge's "Strongest Evil God" or the Empire's "Most Numerous Evil God" would suit York. If they could be paired up properly, the attribute counter-resonance would cancel the magic and damage would be dramatically reduced.

Even so, the current arrangement wasn't bad. Attribute counter-resonance had its losing matchups as well as its cancelling ones, and the current arrangement contained no losing pairings.

More than that, surviving this less-than-best arrangement would be reason to believe that next time, even if conditions were even worse, "as long as we can get conditions to the best, we can handle it" would be backed by precedent.

(… probably!)

Hedging her own bets internally, she finished her grasp of the situation.

As for what was top priority… and just as she was thinking it, she noticed Haku rubbing her eyes.

Either she didn't want to sleep yet, or she kept nodding off but refused to go to bed; she was hanging on to the hem of Ilya's clothes, refusing to let go.

"Let's go to sleep, then."

She must have been really sleepy. Receiving only a small nod, she scooped her up and laid her on the bed. Apparently she'd only wanted to lie down together; as soon as Ilya joined her, the soft sound of her breathing came.

A peaceful, untroubled sleeping face.

Lunéville's night was quiet, as though there were no problems in the world at all.

 

*

 

After that, Ilya took up the threads of her contact work between branch duties.

Her contact method: the wind keseki she had previously dispatched around the world.

The plan itself had shifted slightly, but since those keseki had been delivered for exactly this purpose, there were no problems.

First she released her mana to its maximum so wind keseki anywhere in the world could be reached. The first stone she connected to was the one tuned to Lula's.

"Lula, can you hear me?"

"Ilya! I've been waiting!"

The reply came in well under a second. The voice carried more than enough to picture Lula's beaming smile.

"Sounds like you're doing fine. I'm glad."

"Mm-hmm!"

The agreement didn't sound like brave-facing, so Ilya judged it safe and broached the matter.

"How are things on your end?"

"Aa, well. We're about to head out on a joint commission with the kingdom to kill the monster that seems to be the cause of the eruption."

So they'd identified the cause but not realized it was an evil god yet. Ilya updated her information as she listened.

The "Strongest Evil God" behind it all had a very strong streak of self-display, befitting its self-styled epithet, so locating it was probably easy.

"Are you joining the subjugation, Lula?"

"Mm-hmm. The barrier's still holding, but I don't want all my research material to be ruined by lava."

"I see."

That was proof of looking ahead, of a future, of hope, not of clinging to the past. Ilya hoped the motive was the desire to never go back to the version of Lula who had been living for the past.

She kept the sentiment to herself and pushed on toward her actual purpose.

"Does it look manageable?"

"… … … …"

The response she had been bracing for didn't come right away.

She was about to ask what's wrong? when

"Ilya, there's a granny in town."

came over the line.

"… Yours?"

"Nuh-uh. A complete stranger. Said she moved here with her family or something? She's the angry granny who lectures me every time she sees me. Don't eat while walking, take care of your things, that kind of thing."

"Mm-hmm."

She didn't yet see where Lula was going, but her tone was steady, and Ilya could tell she didn't dislike the woman.

"But she walks with difficulty… If the barrier broke even a little, I don't think she'd get away from the smoke."

"Mm."

"I told her I could send her to one of the further-away towns. Want to guess what she said?"

"What did she say?"

If I weren't here, who'd be left to lecture you?

"That's what she said. Isn't that weird? It's so pushy. The priorities are completely off."

She sounded exasperated as she said it. Then, but, Lula added,

"But, I just thought, I really don't want her to die. Even though when other annoying types like the guild people get on my case, I don't care at all."

That was surely because, deep down, Lula was aware that the old woman was scolding her for her sake.

Ilya thought as much, but Lula herself didn't appear to have noticed; she sounded only puzzled by her own feelings.

For Lula, most people were still nothing more than uninteresting; if anything, just nuisances. Even so, if even one more person could become someone she instinctively cared about, the way the old woman had, that would be wonderful.

"Ah, um, what was I… right! So anyway, I don't want to deal with her having to flee at all, so I want to definitely take down whoever made it erupt."

"Mm."

"So, Ilya. Lend me your strength."

"Sure."

That was exactly why she had made contact in the first place. However…

"Just advice, though?"

"Wha… but I want to see you…"

For a moment she couldn't tell which had been the real purpose. But there had probably been a measure of jest in it.

"But oh well. Please."

Lula prompted her on with surprising ease.

"Right. First, about the monster causing the eruption."

Ilya told her everything she knew: that the cause was an evil god; that it could freely manipulate fire-attribute magic; that since it produced fire-attribute elements on its own, "use fire to reduce the fire-elements" wasn't a valid strategy; that fire magic was therefore meaningless and wind magic, while it could disperse heat, might backfire in certain cases and should be used sparingly; that half-baked water magic could flash to steam dangerously and should also be avoided; that they should watch out for burns; and that once it was weakened and emerged from its body, the first priority would be to draw it away from the volcano.

"So if we hit it with water magic so strong it can't even be evaporated, we win?"

"Pushing it to extremes, yes. Oh, and even if you think you've destroyed it, the soul might survive and possess someone else, so weakening it and sealing it is the safest landing point."

"Sealing… mm, got it! Oh, that reminds me, about that spear you mentioned before…"

The conversation went on from there until the guild's liaison clerk came in to scold Lula for not responding to summons.

She had explained as much as she could, but a kernel of unease remained over whether Lula could convince those around her. Considering her confident manner, though, it was probably going to be fine.

(… Even if it does come down to "let me do the OHANASHI" with them, that's fine too!)

She decided to think of it that way.

 

*

 

Next, then, the stone tuned to Nina's.

"Moshi-moshi. This is Nina."

Ah, this is so nostalgic.

She caught her thoughts before they could drift further.

"Hi, this is Ilya. Are you free?"

"Mm-hmm! Ah, hang on, one second!"

She heard Nina saying something to someone in the background. Just as Ilya was wondering if she'd been too sudden,

"Miko-no-neechan?! It's been forever! Whoa, so that's how keseki can be used. But neechan, you could just use spirits to… oh, wait, we're stopping that, weren't we?! Hahaha～!"

A perfectly unguarded, cheerful voice rang out.

"Sylph is the same as always, I see…"

"Honestly, I used to think it was unthinkable to be bound by a contract, but it's totally fine! If I'd known, I'd've… wha… hey, st…"

"Sorry, Ilya! It's okay now!"

The voice swapped back to Nina mid-flow.

The fact that they were getting along charmingly was lovely, but Nina seemed flustered.

"You seem busy. Doing something right now?"

"Umm, the high-up guild people are arguing with the President-san, and Boku and Darling are helping mediate."

"A… argument?"

She got more detail. Apparently the country's salt-of-the-earth navy was getting all worked up with "screw it, let's go bust 'em up!" while the headquarters chief of the Archipelago Countries Alliance Guild, dispatched from outside, was calmly cautioning "can you really subdue it?"

(… Sure, the navy is short-sighted, but the headquarters chief's tone is so dripping with sarcasm he probably just got everyone's back up.)

And from there things got more tangled, with Elias and Nina holding the line. Translating from Nina's polite phrasing, that was about the size of it.

"By the way, did the navy describe their plan?"

"No… what Boku heard was something like, 'while the source monster is resting on the island is our chance, with a full assault we can overpower it with numbers'… I think?"

(Wow, pure muscle-brain.)

She had to bite back a wry smile.

"The fish that gather around a light end up scooped up all at once, though."

"Oh! Maybe that'll convince them!"

Did you not think of that already?

She didn't have time to remark on it; there was the sound of pattering footsteps fading.

After a beat,

"They finally stopped fighting…"

Nina sounded delighted.

(So she hadn't thought of it…)

Pure muscle-brain, undeniable.

"Thanks, Ilya. You called about this whole thing, right?"

"Mm-hmm. I heard a little. Does it look manageable?"

"Hmm, not really. Anyone who can fly gets close and it bolts away, but ships are slow, and if we try to encircle it and it hits us all with the wind at once, we're toast."

Reassured that they had actually thought it through, Ilya paused to think.

She'd never directly engaged it, so this was guesswork at best, but the forbidden tomes recorded that "it prizes contests of speed, and is therefore identified as the Fastest Evil God."

In light of that, the whole sequence of behaviours wasn't fleeing per se; it was just racing.

"What do we do, Ilya? At this rate everyone can't get out fishing properly, and we're going to have a real problem."

"Mm. Could I have Sylph for a minute?"

"Eh? Mm, sure…"

"Whazzat?!"

The voice switched to Sylph.

There was one thing she wanted to ask.

"Sylph, has the world tree ordered you to do anything?"

Don't cooperate with Ilya. Stay out of this incident.

If Sylph had received that kind of order, then she'd have to think of another approach. Or if Sylph couldn't answer, she'd have to interpret that as effectively the same answer.

Against that expectation, Sylph said,

"Nope. Nothing at all right now?"

As if it were a complete non-issue.

But she did realise that "nothing right now" meant "the world tree might tell me to do something in the future," didn't she?

Given that the Apostle was making direct statements to her, perhaps it was more accurate to assume she wasn't hiding anything.

(… Maybe that's only for me?)

Setting Ilya's worry aside, getting that testimony was huge.

It wasn't likely that the free-spirited great wind spirit was the one being overlooked.

Going back to Nina, she pushed forward.

"About the situation earlier… the answer's to have Sylph cooperate."

"Eh? But colliding winds didn't really do much. We end up reacting, and there's always damage before we can stop everything."

If she'd tried it, this would be quick.

"Don't clash with it. Redirect it."

"Redirect…?"

No matter how violent the evil god's wind, it was still a mass of wind-attribute elements.

For exactly that reason, Sylph (another being who could freely manipulate wind-elements) could interfere with the elements being used and discharge the wind somewhere else.

"The important thing isn't to send the wind back at the opponent. It's to redirect the wind so it doesn't recirculate."

"Don't let it recycle, got it!"

"That way you don't need enough power to actually push back or counterbalance, so you should be able to operate over a wide area."

"Hey, Sylph, can you do that? … She says she can!"

If Sylph had understood, then it was probably fine.

"Good. Then ships can launch too, right?"

Even surrounded, reliably catching an opponent who could fly wasn't easy. They could deliberately leave an opening using flying personnel like Nina and Elias and shape its movement to a target zone.

That was one tactic. With an opponent that prided itself on speed and had the dignified attitude of "I can never be caught," steering it that way had a nine-out-of-ten chance of working.

That kind of warped focus, that strange fixation: that was an evil god's trademark.

Great spirits could share similar quirks, but they didn't take human life lightly.

That very difference was the main reason why beings of the same origin were on one hand revered as great spirits and on the other feared as evil gods, the latter name carrying its sinister weight.

And, as she had with Lula, Ilya advised seal it rather than destroy it.

Sylph likely lacked the knowledge of elves or magic guild research, but with Sylph present it would be fine.

"Other than that, anything else?"

"Hmm… ah!"

Ilya braced herself slightly. Then Nina said:

"Darling was a little jealous of Sylph the other day! Isn't that adorable?! Crazy, right?!"

The fact that you can talk about it in a situation like this is what's crazy.

She kept that quip to herself and listened to Nina happily prattle on about Elias, until the call ended on such a peaceful gushing-about-her-boyfriend track that Ilya found herself doubting the situation was actually dire.

That Elias eventually scolded her into wrapping up: that part felt very Nina-like, she decided.

 

*

 

She reached for the next keseki.

"Can you hear me?"

"Ah, Ilya? It's been a while."

The reply came back warm and characteristically soft, no tension to it.

"It's been a while, Gabriel. Are Pasha and Gnome doing well?"

"Mm, yeah. The other day, we finally… don't say it!"

The voice cutting in was Pasha's.

(The other day, you finally what…?)

What came immediately to mind was: cleared the trial. If so, she should wait until they said it themselves. Out of respect for their intent, and for Ilya's own enjoyment.

"I'm glad to hear everyone's well. I heard you're in Filéalemis. Are you all right?"

"Listen to this, Ilya-neesan! It started as a simple escort commission, and partway in it turned into a subjugation, and they wouldn't pay any more for it! Isn't that terrible?!"

"Depending on the situation, but if it was unilateral, then yes, that's terrible."

"Right?! Honestly, merchants always take advantage when you've got no other choice, I hate it!"

Excited or not, her dialect had slipped back to its natural register. The image of Pasha pouting and Gabriel smiling fondly at her came easily to mind.

"By 'subjugation,' you mean the plants that proliferated abnormally?"

"Yeah! They're all spiky and slimy and gross!"

She'd been told they were giant insectivorous-plant types, so "ghastly" wasn't hard to imagine.

Plants she could deal with; if there had been an insect-type evil god, Ilya would have been the one to take it out first.

(Ugh…)

She'd imagined it for a moment, and rubbed at the goosebumps on her arms. The voice on the keseki changed.

"The road's been blocked off too, so we took the subjugation commission."

"I see. Does it look manageable?"

"… … … …"

Silence. Brief. Then:

"Ilya?"

"?"

"When you ask it like that, Ilya, it's because you've got something in mind. Like a grace period… you're letting us decide properly."

Was that so? Ilya thought.

She didn't think she had been like that with the others. Whether they had noticed or not, Gabriel wasn't wrong about it.

But why bring it up now?

He didn't go on as if to answer her question.

"It might not be all right. But I'll try."

A faint firmness slipping into his usual gentle tone. But all the stronger for it.

"I understand. Of course I respect your decision."

Do your best, and prove the Apostle wrong with nothing but your own strength, she meant unspoken.

"Thanks. We will. I'll do my best too, you know!"

"Yes. I'm cheering for you. Reach out if anything comes up. And please don't dig in over weird points of pride."

Ah, that's the one thing I'm in no position to say.

Without noticing her quiet self-disgust, the two replied cheerfully "Mm-hmm!"

"When this is over, I'm going to come see you, Ilya-neesan! I'll surprise you, I think. Bye for now."

That sounded like a flag if she'd ever heard one.

She didn't get a chance to make that joke; the reception counter called her over.

Feeling the trivial unease unique to a Japanese mind poisoned by subculture, she debriefed an incoming runner, dispatched another, and got back to work.

 

*

 

She seized a slot in her schedule and reached for the next stone.

Just then, another stone began speaking.

"Heey, Ilya-chan, can you hear me, ooi…"

"I hear you, Siren. It's been a while."

She couldn't deliver directly to the island, so it had taken a detour via Tristan, a detour that worked out, fortunately. Otherwise she would've had to make the call while Tristan was still en route, which would have cost more time.

"Long time no sea～ Ilya-chan, you stopped visiting after that letter, you know? Everyone's so disappointed～?"

"Sorry."

"If you keep your promise, I'll forgive you."

"Mm-hmm. I'll definitely come."

The Crystal Pillar of Wind's role had probably been settled with the Bernart matter, and using it for a barrier as originally planned should be fine.

Mermaids had the upper hand in water but were weak to air-based fights. Siren's illusion magic kept the island invisible from above, but adding a wind barrier to block aerial approach would let them live more safely.

(Wait, that's not the point right now.)

She hauled her drifting thoughts back.

"I heard the sea froze over… how bad's the damage?"

"That gave me a real fright～. Ah, damage? Mut-chan smashed the ice around the island, so we're fine! It's a bit darker and colder underwater, but otherwise not much different～?"

"I see."

That she could feel that way was simply because they were mermaids. Ordinary humans could only traverse open sea by boat, and they could no longer fish. More importantly, ordinary fish were extremely sensitive to even a one-degree water temperature change; catch rates would swing wildly.

The fact that Siren hadn't even noticed suggested she and her people just weren't fishing because "the water's cold, so I don't want to go in today."

"Ah, but if this cold keeps on, the island's harvest's going to drop, isn't it."

Apparently she'd realised. "Yes," Ilya affirmed.

"Air temperature matters to plants too, so cold sea air blowing inland keeps up isn't good."

"As I thought～. Then the stone you sent me, it was in anticipation of this, wasn't it?"

"I didn't know exactly what would happen, and ideally nothing would have happened at all."

No point in saying it now. She shifted to the main question.

"Is Tristan there?"

"Aaah, that boy with the demon-sword? He said he'd take the subjugation commission for the big crab that froze the sea～"

"Crab" was enough to confirm in Ilya's mind: the cause was the "Best Evil God."

This evil god prized "the best of all options" above all else, and had once destroyed a village's entire settlement on the grounds that "the best outcome is for humans to no longer exist."

That kind of accumulated act was what got it labelled an evil god, but viewed over the long term, many were arguably necessary evils.

This time, too, was probably the result of judging that "this is the best."

Which was why she had to confirm one thing.

"Siren, was the ice spread around the whole island?"

"Yeah～. Real shock that was～."

That meant Mermaid Island was within the targeted range.

"How is it now? The parts Mut-chan broke, those still stay broken?"

"Yep～."

The Best Evil God wasn't re-freezing the smashed ice. Which meant the goal of "best" might be freezing the sea itself, not maintaining the frozen state.

The Apostle's intent had been to drag Ilya onto the front stage. To do that, multiple regions had to be hit simultaneously.

In light of that, the Best Evil God's "freezing the sea" might not be a problem for its own sake. Its purpose might be to "cause a problem at the same time as the others."

If so, the ice only needed to remain until other problems were resolved; there was no reason to keep replacing it.

(Best, huh.)

A configuration of "least possible damage while still forcing Ilya to act." If it had wanted more damage, sending waves at populated coasts would have been worse, and the evil god surely knew it.

The other possibility was that the Apostle's order had been "keep damage minimal" and some other evil god had cheerfully interpreted "minimal-ish～" in its own way.

(… Eh, no point speculating.)

A possibility was just a possibility. She stopped before she could waste more thought on idle hypotheticals. Sparing consideration for the Apostle who set this all in motion was unnecessary.

"Ilya-chan, what should we do?"

Within the words she sensed not only the current situation but something deeper: the mermaids' future.

"Siren, what do you want to do?"

"I think it's enough to secure the environment that lets us live."

It was a sovereign's tone. The lack of hesitation made it clear that she had asked herself this question many times.

To extend a hand was no guarantee that the hand would be taken. Worse, it might be repaid with treachery. They knew that very well. Whether that was fortunate or not, Ilya couldn't say.

"Okay. Understood."

"Is that all right?"

"I support Siren's decision."

"Mm. Thank you. Knowing you said that puts me at ease～"

The trace of hesitation was gone; the usual unbothered tone was back.

"But it might be worth scrubbing up the bad reputation."

"Eh? Aah, right. Right!"

She caught Ilya's drift and giggled.

The bad reputation in question: the previous damage Bahamut had inflicted on Akradist.

If Bahamut were staying on Mermaid Island, leaving the reputation as-is would make outsiders even more reluctant to approach. But Bahamut was free-spirited; she went where she pleased. Mostly harmless, but if attacked, she'd defend herself. Best to reduce the chance of being attacked.

"Maybe something flashy, then?"

"That's right. The 'who did it' should leave an impression, and at the same time it has to show there was no malice."

"In that case, maybe we should take human form and act it out～?"

From there they put their heads together to plan a "Bahamut Hero Plan," with contingencies in case the "Best" took further action.

And just like that, Akradist's response was settled.

The keseki was picking up murmurs of "no fair" and "me too" in the background, but with the bigger picture in mind she politely declined this time.

 

*

 

The next stone she picked up was the connection to, in some sense, the highest-difficulty location: the Sacred Reinhardt Empire, where the guild's influence was minimal.

The other end of the line: Torsti.

A royal, deep inside the most fortified part of the country, but the report of completed delivery had come in already, so it should be fine.

(If it hadn't actually gone out, that would make that report a false one.)

She synced.

"Torsti-san, can you hear me?"

"… I… Ilya-san?!"

"Yes. May I have a moment of your time?"

"Of course. Give me a moment."

A brief murmur the keseki didn't catch, and then Torsti's voice came clearly again.

"Apologies for the wait. The matter is what you wrote in the letter, yes?"

"Yes. Honestly I wish nothing had had to happen at all."

"It was only the other day that I was told politics is the act of preparing for what might happen."

His voice held a quiet smile, no resentment in it.

"First, let me explain the situation."

"Yes, please."

"Well… the start of it was…"

Hearing his first-hand account, Ilya cross-referenced it with the familiars' reports and reorganised her information.

The actual disaster wasn't different from what she'd been told. But for Torsti, a ruler, the bigger problem wasn't why the lake had dried up; it was the loss of the water source itself.

Losing a lake critical for drinking and agriculture cratered everyday life as well as production, so naturally the priority shifted.

"As for the cause of the depletion, it's an evil god."

"An evil god…?! No… I see."

Torsti was surprised but accepting.

His acceptance was so quick that she stayed silent. He sensed her surprise.

"As I said, the heat around where the lake used to be is especially severe. From the persistence of it we judged it wasn't ordinary magic, but we couldn't pin down the cause."

He spoke as if confirming the diagnosis aloud, then in a but register, the voice asked a question.

"Why now? Of all moments, to strike when we're exhausted…"

"I know how that must feel, but it is coincidence."

While saying so, Ilya felt something off about the voice. The pitch was similar but the tone was different. The "person" speaking now felt distinct.

"How can you be certain of that?"

The exhausting cause was the recent war.

That war had been triggered by a three-way attribute counter-resonance arrangement, with the world tree (the Apostle) working the underlying conditions. But to the Apostle, the war hadn't needed to be in the Empire. If similar human conflict had broken out elsewhere, the same flow would have been seized on to push Ilya into the open.

So while this incident was separate, the timing chaining to the previous one was misfortune close to coincidence.

(I can't actually say all that, of course.)

There was another reason as well. That one was easier to digest, so Ilya led with it.

"Because the same kind of abnormality is happening around the world."

Places exhausted like the Empire and Orbwight, places at peace like Rondéville, all at once.

For ordinary citizens, it would feel like an indiscriminate, sky-falling disaster.

Whether or not she had wanted to be, the fact that she herself was the cause weighed heavily on her conscience.

But if she rushed forward to wipe out that guilt, it would play exactly into the Apostle's hand. Worse, it would amount to validating the Apostle's method of forcing change at the expense of countless lives. She had no intention of giving him that.

"I see… forgive me. To return to the matter, if the cause is an evil god, then the only choice is to bring it down."

"Ah, yes. That's how it works."

The tone of voice shifted slightly again; rather, it shifted back.

(Did someone switch with him? A sibling, maybe?)

She didn't sense anything off about Torsti's voice itself, so she decided to let it go.

"But, an evil god… If it commands fire, we'll have to endure with water magic, but it won't be straightforward."

"It isn't actually that bad."

"Eh?"

Caught off guard by the breezy denial, Torsti let out a soft, deflated sound.

"Is that… so?"

"Yes."

Ilya affirmed, and explained.

From the outside, an evil god looked as though it manipulated fire or water at will. But that was because spirits (same origin) could do the same. The same can be done; the difference was scale.

Where spirits were entities of keseki magnitude, the evil gods were of crystal-pillar magnitude, so naturally their range of interference was larger.

A spirit manipulated the attribute-elements inside itself to produce phenomena. Humans used incantations and other tools to interfere with those attribute-elements, giving them directionality to produce phenomena.

Speed, range, and power varied enormously, but in the end the mechanism was the same.

"Whatever phenomena an evil god produces, the divine swords can cancel them in exactly the same way they cancel magic."

"I see. So we don't need to ration their use, then."

The word ration gave Ilya pause; after a beat she understood.

The divine swords were not just weapons but symbols, and trump cards. Of course the throne would be cautious.

Their power was vast, but the cost of losing them was incalculable, and they couldn't carelessly thrust their wielders (imperial royalty) into the line of fire.

But hearing his worry abate seemed to lift Torsti's voice as well.

The problem now was: she might be muddying his own resolve.

"I apologise. You may not want to lean on the divine swords…"

"There is no need to apologise."

Cutting in on her apology came a different voice. A mature, well-aged baritone.

Who, now?!

The voice spoke before her surprise could catch up.

"If we do not use them to protect the people, when will we use them? If we lose this chance, the swords will only lose more of what little reason for existence they have. For the sake of what lies ahead, we must demonstrate. Is that not so, Guardian of the Wisdom of the Age of Gods?"

By "Guardian of the Wisdom of the Age of Gods" he meant the elves, probably.

The grand register made Ilya guess this was an adult who could cut in on Torsti's conversation: probably the Emperor.

How should she respond? She didn't get much time to weigh it; the voice went on.

"To change the subject, my son was in your debt. For this incident as well, I should very much like to repay you, in one form or another."

However lofty the words, for Ilya it was an outright nuisance. In fact, by Ilya's standards, having let him say it at all was a failure.

"I did it of my own accord. To accept those words would only crush me with guilt."

Seriously. I mean it.

The bluntness of her refusal had been deliberately rude, but the reply came back amused: "Hoh?"

(No, no, here's the part where you go 'How impertinent!' and chuck the keseki!)

The business was already done; Ilya started fielding desperate ideas.

Of course nothing of the sort happened.

"Then… why do you do these things?"

Why help without seeking reward? The answer was decided.

"There's no fine moral or grand purpose. Only that I wish for tranquility. That is all."

What he had found amusing in that, Ilya didn't know. But satisfied, he only said "I see," and the voice returned to Torsti.

After a bit more refining of the plan, the advice ended. The conversation with Torsti closed without any awkward residue.

At his clean exit, she couldn't help thinking:

(Honestly, can't Jean or the Elder learn from this kind of grace…?)

 

*

 

In any case, time was not infinite. On to the next.

The targets: the three of [Stars of the Eternal Night] in the Windia Chieftain Federation.

Of the evil-god regions she'd dealt with, she'd left this for last because the local combat strength was the most secure.

It was where chieftains of every race gathered, so the bodyguards there were of necessity selected from among the strongest. Even with smaller total population and force counts, Windia held a stronger raw combat strength than most other countries.

"Can you hear me?"

"… Yes, hearing you."

It sounded like Eric.

"Long time no talk, Eric. Are you free?"

"Mm. Just finished, actually."

Finished?

As she wondered, the voice changed.

"Listen to this, Ilya! … is this Ilya, yeah? No really, those guys are too damn stubborn! Compared to those guys, even orichalcum is soft, I'm telling you!!"

"Sounds like it was rough."

Ten to one, things had got tangled around the response plan. Even with so much raw strength on hand (especially because of it), the chieftains' pride, plus political angling to upstage one another in this incident, had blown things up.

(I'd be so out of there.)

But that wasn't the issue.

"How did the discussion go?"

"Ah."

Does it look manageable? she meant unspoken.

A beat, and Chris's tone shifted.

"Ilya. There's something I want to talk to you about."

"Talk?"

"Yeah. Erm, listen, uh, um… ow! What was that for, Selena?!"

Some voice she couldn't catch came in from a distance.

Selena was probably scolding him. Ilya could guess the gist.

Stop hemming and hawing! Stating clearly what you mean is your strong point.

(Probably something like that.)

She could picture the scolding in her mind.

"Aaa, sorry. Sorry for the wait."

"It's fine."

She prompted him on, his voice properly chastened.

"To continue from earlier. Ilya, you sent us this stone so you could give us advice, right?"

"Well, in the extreme, yes."

"Don't need it. Gnh, did you seriously hit me just now?!"

(They get along, in their way…)

The clattering chaos was apparently still standard.

The phrasing had been thoughtless, but they were old acquaintances, and she knew Chris wasn't the sort to bat away genuine concern.

"Selena, it's all right."

"Sorry, Ilya! Hey, explain yourself properly!"

"I… I'm trying!"

Selena's voice, then Chris back.

He was completely under her thumb, but Selena had her own bullheadedness too, so Eric was probably still the one suffering most.

(Did Selena ever manage the contract properly?)

Well, if nothing was said about it, presumably no problems.

She had a lot to say, but for now she'd hear Chris out.

"I said 'don't need it,' but it's not that I find it bothersome or anything! I'm so grateful for you, Ilya, really, more like… no, wait, focus!"

She waited as Chris fought to find his own words.

"Look, this time around, there's a lot of seriously strong people here. Standing guard for the higher-ups, you can tell they're no joke… The lightning over there's an evil god, right?"

"Yes."

He must have already braced himself. Chris took the confirmation without flinching, and continued in the same tone.

"Even with all the strong people, individually, none of 'em can beat an evil god… Us included… But!"

His vocabulary firmed.

"But we're not alone! If one isn't enough, then ten. If ten isn't enough, then twenty! And if that's not enough, all of us together can win! … I don't think it's right to keep relying on you forever, Ilya."

There was no proud noise, no defiance in the words. Only the pure feeling of someone walking straight toward a goal.

"So for this one… I want to bring that thing down with just us. To learn that we can do it ourselves. Before we fight the main target."

"Mm."

"You think I'm being stupid? Ilya, do you think I'm being selfish…?"

Hearing the way his strong voice deflated, she couldn't help laughing softly.

Not in mockery, of course, and not from thinking him stupid.

"I don't."

"Right?! Right! I knew you'd get it, Ilya!"

"But don't get a swelled head over it."

"Augh… yes."

Exactly, Ilya nodded mentally.

As long as Chris didn't let bravado run away with him, his unbending honesty could become a light for those suffering. Even if a single light wasn't enough, he had two dependable allies at his side.

"I can't actually grasp everything happening everywhere. I can't always give useful advice, either, and it would be a mistake to think things work out only because of my advice."

In that sense, what Chris had said was both convenient and reassuring. Or so she thought.

"Is that so?"

The reply came back doubtful.

Sure, she could find out by looking; but there were many things you only knew by going. As proof: she didn't even know yet whether Selena had managed her contract.

"Anyway, pushing yourself a little is fine, but don't do anything reckless. If it really does look like too much, contact me. I'll keep the line open."

"Got it!"

She thought for a moment, and added:

"If the chieftains get too noisy, tell them this."

"Quit dragging your feet and act for the citizens. Otherwise…"

"… the council hall might get destroyed again, you know?"

"Council hall? That place with all the layered barriers? What do you mean?"

Nothing more than what the words said.

To put it another way:

"A magic spell that makes chieftains behave, maybe?"

 

*

 

Conversation with Chris's group complete. All evil-god locations closed out.

Last remaining was Orbwight. Although the keseki she was about to use wasn't actually in Orbwight.

"Orion-san, can you hear me?"

"Oou. That was quick. The other places done already?"

"You're sharp."

Ilya's voice (half-surprised, half-resigned) made Orion laugh.

"Hahah. There's no way you'd go out of your way to butt into only my place. Mostly it's the neighbour's, isn't it?"

"Yes. Do you know what's going on?"

"We've got diplomatic channels at least. I only have what comes through couriers, but things are in a real mess."

Orion launched into the situation in their neighbour.

Right around when the freak sandstorm hit, monsters started cropping up. The country was thrown into confusion by the storm muddling its information channels; the guild was likewise in disarray with its communication network down. To here, the situation overlapped with what the familiars had reported.

From there, with neither situation control nor information gathering possible, fed-up guild members started moving independently. Meanwhile anti-government factions and the poor stepped up criminal activity, leading to clashes with the military. The accumulated grievances and the stress of the abnormal situation exploded all at once. Both military and guild were locked in a chaotic command breakdown.

"That's the gist. Hahah."

"You can't actually laugh at that, you know…"

"Ha? Eh, it's divine punishment for picking fights with us!"

"Heh…"

He probably had some genuine patriotic streak. Whether he meant it, Orion sounded happy enough; Ilya managed a dry laugh.

She also knew he wasn't the kind of man to actively hurt his own country, so he wouldn't stand by while the consequences spilled over.

Either way, the situation was nasty. Of all the affected regions, Orbwight might be the closest to outright state collapse.

"Sorry, Orion-san. Give me a moment, I'll call you back."

"Mm? Aa."

She set the keseki aside and thought.

She had sent stones to others, but not to anyone connected to Orbwight's king. Which left her one option.

"Dragon-god-sama, do you have a moment?"

"Heey, Ilya. Your voice cuts through the soul more brightly than any other elf's…"

She had neither the time nor the patience for the dragon god's preamble, and brushed past it.

"I'll keep this brief."

"A… aa."

"You or one of your predecessors, doesn't matter, the current Orbwight king is your bloodline, right? He bragged about it himself, I've heard. So I have a request. Whether as kin or as the lord of your line, would you please tell him:

Do your job.

… please?"

"R… right, right, understood. I'll be sure to convey it!"

"Wonderful. Thank you."

Honestly. What's he so terrified of?

I just asked.

She muttered all that with poker-faced innocence inside, and considered.

The fool-king of Orbwight should probably move now.

Even the arena affair had likely happened because the fool-king was so disengaged from politics that his nobility went out of control. The subsequent war with the Empire had probably been a "if I can fight, anything's fine" decision.

(Honestly, when a dim ruler rules, the people suffer… never mind.)

She stopped the pointless line of thought and reconnected to Orion.

"Sorry, that took a moment."

"Mm? I'm fine on my end. I've got my divine spear, the one that stops intrusions."

So he was making full use of it, no slack.

"I called in a small favour, so Orbwight should be moving soon."

"I see. Anything I should be doing?"

"If a commission comes through, please cooperate. With refugees rising, the strain on Piskroza will be considerable."

"Yeah."

Orion went on.

"After that recent affair, this country's gotten even more cautious about accepting outsiders. Aid alone, maintaining the granary belt's defenses, is top priority."

"I leave the call to you."

The local population would have evacuated to nearby cities, which would have enough strength to hold. The bottleneck would be stockpiles. Faster to bring direct help, or faster to wait until military and guild functioned again? Plus expeditions still needed supply lines. Better to leave it to the one who actually knew the local geography.

"Well, when things settle, come around and say hello to her, yeah?"

"Ah, yes."

Why now?

She had thought that at first, then remembered: on her last visit she'd told him to prioritise what he wanted. He probably thought it had made it harder to visit Piskroza. Reading him that way, Ilya answered "Understood."

"I'll probably be bringing Haku along."

"She's basically a grandkid, right? She'll be pleased."

The stars shining in this world's sky weren't distant planets; they were the lights of souls awaiting reincarnation.

Whether Anna's soul, having come from another world, was even within that wheel of reincarnation (said to be managed by the human god), Ilya didn't actually know.

But Orion had said what he said.

Where the soul actually is doesn't matter.

As if to declare it.

He was a man who treated Anna comes from another world, culture is different, common sense is different, race is different all as things that effectively didn't exist.

(If everyone could think even a little like him… hmm.)

"Ojou…?"

"Ah, sorry. It's nothing."

Catching herself thinking then again, maybe not, she shelved the thought, recomposed, and told Orion:

"If anything comes up, talk to the keseki. I'll do my best to stay reachable."

"Got it. Ha. I'll do my best to make sure nothing does come up, though."

"Just don't push yourself."

"Aye-aye."

That casual reply closed the call.

(All right, that's the round done…)

She thought it was, but there was one stone left.

She remembered the elves' village.

(Mm?)

And then she noticed something.

When she had spoken to the dragon god, he'd mentioned something about elves. He'd brought it up unprompted, which meant it was fresh on his mind. He'd seen another elf recently. The only context in which elves and the dragon god intersected was trade.

(If he's still circling through, he might run into an abnormality.)

If so, Jean was soft on his own. He'd join the fight, lend his strength. That would handle it; but as insurance:

"Undine, if it gets really bad, let me know… okay! Done!"

That would carry through the spirit network to the person in question. York had a keseki too, so if it got truly bad, contact would come.

That made the round complete.

(Now I focus on cleanup on this end.)

Pivoting her thinking, Ilya headed for the reception counter.

 

*

 

Several days passed after she finished her round of contacts.

The plan's milestones were progressing steadily. But that wasn't to say everything was going smoothly.

How many earthquakes had it been now since the disaster started.

A wagon ferrying the rescued past the branch's main avenue and on toward the church was visible through the window.

"Confirmed completion. The next dispatch is from tomorrow on, so please rest properly."

"Got it. Thanks."

At the counter, the representative of the guild members who had escorted that wagon finished his processing and walked off with a faint, exhausted smile.

There had been casualties. People they couldn't protect. The hall was scattered with people sunk into similar regret and helplessness.

"… Another!"

"Um… sir, I think you should stop…"

"Shut up! If I don't drink, I can't keep going!!"

A man with a beet-red face from drink was shouting at Cynthia. He was one of those in that same state.

Normally his attitude would have earned cold looks all around, but today people read what was behind it, and the expressions were guilty rather than disapproving.

"Even so, you can't. If you ruin your health right now, you won't be able to do anything afterwards, you know?"

The expressions around him and Cynthia's firm stance must have brought him partway back to himself. He swallowed the anger and hung his head.

"I know that… I know! Drinking and stewing here won't get me anywhere!"

But, he looked up.

"Do you understand…? The fear of monsters that just keep coming, no matter how many you cut down…? All I could do was huddle behind shut doors like a damn clam waiting for help…! Outside, there might've still been people, and… and what have I been swinging my sword for, all this time…?"

His fist clenched, his head bowed again; tears were spilling.

The man had been a village guard. He was one of the people the Lunéville guild members had rescued.

The terror of monsters; the regret of those he couldn't save. He wanted to forget, didn't want to remember, and so he was reaching for drink.

A mug landed in front of him with force.

The man looked up at Fidel.

He was the well-known representative of the patrol force's [Blue Sword]; the man blinked.

"If you want to drink, drink it."

The words sounded considerate, even kind. But Fidel's face was stern, and the man didn't reach for the mug.

Seeing that, Fidel said,

"Don't hold back. But think about it. The meaning of drinking this glass."

The hall had gone hushed; only his voice carried.

"Drink to forget. I'm not saying that's wrong. Everyone's done it at some point… But, really, is that going to be enough?"

"Enough… wh… how can you…"

"If you keep tipping it back here, you can probably forget the bad things, sure. But only while you're drinking."

Fidel cut him off and pressed in.

"Even if you try to drown it out, you're going to keep regretting. Not today, not tomorrow, and after this is all over too, forever. I'm asking if you still want to drink, knowing that."

"Tsk… Then… then what am I supposed to do?! I couldn't fight! I couldn't do anything!"

"Then next time, fight."

He held out his hand. On his face was a wry smile.

"I get the fear of monsters. We've fought all kinds of monsters… We even fought the ice dragon, which is more than just a monster… that was scary. Specially scary."

"That's… that's because you…"

"Not because we're strong. Because everyone was there. Because we had comrades beside us to fight with us, and behind us, people we wanted to protect."

Fidel turned the wry smile into a true one.

"Next time, you're not alone. Everyone's here."

Pulled along by his words, the man looked around.

His eyes found others smiling the same as Fidel.

"Now. Choose. Drink and forget the fear of this moment, or come with us and blast the fear away with us?"

"I… I…"

Could he fight again? Could he protect this time?

… Could he laugh like them?

His trembling hand wavered as he hesitated, finally clenched.

"I'll fight!"

He gripped the hand.

"Right!"

Fidel laughed,

"Battle strength secured!"

"What?"

He clamped down on the man's arm hard.

"Today's third trainee! Treat him well!"

""" Yeah! """

"Hah?!"

To the bewildered man, Cynthia announced with a brilliant smile,

"First we conquer that fear of yours, apparently! Hang in there!"

"Hahhh…?!"

And so the man was hauled off to the arena for "training"; er, he accompanied Fidel's group there.

It was forceful, but if he got injured and wasn't ready when the time came, the whole point was lost; they understood that well and wouldn't push him recklessly.

Whatever else, with this, the branch's bustle came back.

There was some awkwardness to it, and it was a modest thing, but it owed nothing to Ilya's hand: it was bustle they had reclaimed with their own hands.

 

*

 

After that she continued reception work for a while, then went on break.

Heading upstairs, thinking Haku ought to be waking up from her nap soon, she was called.

"Onee-sama."

When she turned, Sophia was there.

She had been administering treatment at the church to those wounded by the quakes, but her expression now was somehow tense, not quite the tension she usually carried.

Ilya stepped down to meet her.

The scale of the disaster meant many injured; the church had publicly opened its doors from the start, lining beds even in rooms once used as classrooms.

When administering treatment Sophia wasn't her gentle, cheerful self; she became the dignified-believer version of herself. But what was in her face now wasn't dignity. It was something harder.

"Is something wrong?"

She had started up the stairs but came back down to be eye-to-eye. Sophia tried to answer and the words caught in her throat.

She forced down the instinct to spill her feelings, closed her eyes briefly, and opened her mouth.

"I heard a big operation is coming."

"Mm-hmm."

That was what they were all holding the line for. Sophia, accepting her affirmation, told her:

"Please let me come and assist with treating the wounded too."

"That would be a great help, but is the church all right?"

"Yes. The patients themselves asked me to. They said: don't worry about us, please help those who can still fight."

The branch already had recovery-magic users on the roster, but one more was always welcome. Most refugees at the church were non-combatants, and their consideration was appreciated; what they were saying was correct, too.

But if that had really been all, Sophia wouldn't have worn that quietly sad smile.

Did something happen?

She wanted to ask, but Sophia's manner made it clear she would simply answer "It's nothing" or "I'm fine."

Knowing how stout-hearted Sophia was against insult, what came to mind as the cause was either the sheer number of wounded, or:

(A casually unkind remark, maybe.)

You could heal wounds with recovery magic; you couldn't heal the heart.

A child whose parent or friend had been hurt, gazing at the church, asks Sophia:

Why won't God do anything for us?

And Sophia would find herself with no answer.

The picture rose vividly in Ilya's mind.

(Made it up on the spot, but yeah, sounds plausible.)

But confirming risked picking at the wound. She just answered Sophia's request.

"Please?"

"Yes. I'll do my best."

Excuse me, Sophia said, bowed, and started off. Even though her offer had been accepted, her back carried a kind of forlornness; her trouble wasn't resolved.

"Sophia."

"Yes, Onee-sama?"

"There may be people of other faiths there. Don't worry about it. Some of those who can be saved can be, because you're there."

Whether or not there's a god has nothing to do with it.

Whether the meaning came through, she didn't know. Maybe her guess had been wrong in the first place.

Even so,

"Yes!"

Sophia ran off with the bright reply, looking like her usual self again.

 

*

 

"I've returned."

"Welcome back."

How did it go?

The Apostle didn't need to ask; Sophia's expression as she set herself to her work made it plain that her doubts had cleared.

A path her own frail self had chosen: to become someone's strength, like the Ilya who had once saved her. Heal wounds with recovery magic, lead hearts to peace by praying together.

The world tree brought light into the world.

Many saw in that providence or compassion, but the truth was, the tree was a mere mechanism that kept the world functioning.

Why does god not save us?

That such a voice would arise was the inevitable consequence.

It was a kind of unfairness, but when a beacon of hope failed to live up to that hope, humans felt disappointment and betrayal.

(No, not only humans, perhaps.)

The Apostle lowered his gaze.

It was something he could only understand now that he wore a human form, but what the world tree had felt toward Ilya was something close to disappointment.

What the world tree had felt before her: a slow worsening of the world ever since one of the three original gods had been lost, a continuous progression of small cracks. At a certain point, the cracks had begun to stabilise.

Through the roots, the world tree had noticed: while a certain person had been actively involved in the world, not even cracks had formed any more.

Perhaps, this way, even the world's fractures will one day…

The world tree's hope had been betrayed when that person's presence vanished from its awareness.

Why?

The world tree, which was itself a mechanism of the world, could not comprehend.

Why does she not aim for the world's stability? Why does she act as if she has abandoned the world?

When it finally found her again, she was no longer trying to involve herself with the world.

And yet you could save the world!

So the world tree began to act.

Sometimes through the evil gods (great spirits gone twisted). Sometimes through shadow source, manipulating the monsters.

… Then, stimulating the evil gods' instincts, leveraging shadow source to multiply the monsters.

Voices mourning the dead, voices lamenting. Anger and despair at the injustice.

All of it reached the world tree through the shadow source it absorbed.

It had no intention of looking away. But neither did it think of this as "the small evils paid for a greater good."

A motive forceful enough to move her required misery and pain in that quantity.

Far from offering relief, it was a presence putting people in dire straits. Even without comprehending the whole, the Apostle could sense Sophia's struggle. If anything, in terms of responsibility, he carried it more heavily than she did, and that was not just natural; it was earned.

But she, Ilya, showed no sign of moving.

Even now, she would not stir herself.

That said, just as Ilya had guessed, half in hope, the world tree had no further moves. There were measures it could take, but going further risked the loss outweighing the goal. They knew that.

Their objective was simple: to extend the life of this world.

Destroying the people in order to move Ilya would defeat the whole purpose.

"…"

The Apostle opened his eyes from their downcast pose and turned his gaze outside the window.

Some of the wounded must not have fit in the carriage that had just arrived.

The figures of guild members carrying their injured comrades on their backs, teeth gritted, were within his sight.