17 12

Ranta was coming this way. He might have been worried about Yume. Kuzaku was working with Tokimune, Kikkawa, Ron, and Chibichan, each working to fill in the others’ blind spots as they handled the onrushing orcs. Where were Shinohara and Tada? Haruhiro figured they would be trying to open the gate, but he didn’t know quite how.
Zan Dogran’s duel with Renji was up in the air. No, Zan Dogran still had the clear advantage. Having used the power of Aragarfald, Renji needed a clean win. And it needed to come as soon as possible. If Renji couldn’t manage that, he—no, the entire detached force would die here.
If they couldn’t open the gate from the inside, the main force couldn’t attack and take the old castle.
The operation would fail.
We’re screwed, aren’t we?
They hadn’t reached the end of the road yet, but there was only one path. There was no turning back now either. They had to move forward.
There was a sheer cliff ahead of them.
No matter what they did now, the outcome wouldn’t change. All they could do was struggle in vain.
But was that really true?
Sure, there was only one path. It was a road leading to nowhere. It was a dead end. The operation had failed. Hard as it was to accept, there was no redeeming themselves now. But was it true that they couldn’t turn back?
Couldn’t they get away?
If they retreated to tower #4 and into the Graveyard, then the treasury was a maze. Even if the enemy followed them, wouldn’t they be able to lose their pursuers? If they fled all the way through the Graveyard to the foothill entrance, then maybe.
It wouldn’t be simple. They wouldn’t all make it. Renji, in particular, would have to fight Zan Dogran until he reached his limit. Someone would have to play the role of rear guard, holding off their pursuers. They’d lose several people along the way. So that the others might live.
There was also the option of taking just his comrades and getting away as quickly as they could.
I couldn’t do that, he thought. He wasn’t that heartless, or that much of a coward. Even if he could cast his conscience aside, it probably wouldn’t work out that well. Though their team had lost Kimura and Matsuyagi in the Graveyard, they hadn’t lost a single person yet inside the old castle. It might have been a miracle, but it was because they were all fighting as one, doing their very best. If someone did something to disrupt that unity, the platoon would collapse in no time. Haruhiro could escape alone, but there would be no point. Not if he was the only one.
What was Tsuguta doing now? Or Inui? He didn’t know. Were they using Stealth like he was?
Being able to vanish in the middle of a chaotic melee like this was something only a thief was capable of.
If Haruhiro were on his own, he might have been able to pull off some pretty ballsy moves.
Opening the gate. That was their mission. It would be bolted, so there was the issue of whether Haruhiro could lift or destroy the gate bar. Tada or Shinohara probably could. That was likely their goal.
Haruhiro needed to forget about his comrades for now and get the gate open, destroying or removing the gate bar if necessary. If Tada or Shinohara were moving in that direction, he could support them.
There was no time to be indecisive.
It pained him to do it, and he felt like he was being ripped apart, but Haruhiro tore himself away from his team and headed for the gate. Him leaving might mean his comrades would die. It was a realistic possibility. Either way, if the gate didn’t open, the operation couldn’t succeed, and the detached force would be finished. That included Haruhiro’s comrades. This was his only choice. But even knowing he had no other option, it was hard to accept. He wished he could tear himself in two, leaving one half with them and sending the other half to the gate.
But he needed to cut off his emotions for now. He kept his Stealth going as he passed by Renji and Zan Dogran’s duel to the death. Shinohara and Tada really were pressing toward the gate. That said, the white-haired orcs near them didn’t just have those single-edged swords, they had sturdy-looking shields too. Even Shinohara, who had a relic, and Tada, who was like a mass of destructive energy, wouldn’t get through them easily. Haruhiro alone might be able to slip past and reach the gate. The orcs had their backs to it. He could probably get there and lay his hands on the gate bar. Could he lift it, when it was so large he could barely wrap his arms around it? It might not be impossible. But it would be really hard work. Tada would be able to smash it with his warhammer. That was impossible for Haruhiro.
No, he couldn’t remove the gate bar. Haruhiro couldn’t do it, but Tada could do it alone.
Tada. He needed to get Tada to the gate. To make it happen, he’d need to disrupt the orcs guarding it. He’d slip into the middle of their formation and Backstab one or two. Maybe make a show of trying to lift the gate bar, even if he couldn’t. They’d notice him immediately, of course. He just had to raise some hell once they did.
It was going to be pretty dangerous. He’d be risking his life, but he had no other moves available to him. None that he could think of, at least. He’d rather die doing something than nothing. Even if he died, if the gate opened and the main force breached the old castle, it could lead to the operation succeeding. That might let his comrades survive.
What chance did he have of succeeding? It was pretty low. It was a gamble. He knew that.
Haruhiro was a pessimist by nature. He wasn’t going to turn into an optimist at this late stage of the game. Still, even if he thought it was hopeless, if he was going to do it, he was better off convincing himself it was possible. That one percent chance might become oneand-a-half. Half of a percent might seem like next to nothing, but it wasn’t zero. Since he was going to be risking his life on such slim odds, he wanted to make them as good as possible.
Haruhiro followed the wall as he approached the white-haired orcs in front of the gate, but their shields were up. No matter where he looked, there was no gap a person could slip through. Why had he thought there would be? He’d been analyzing the situation with a clear head, hadn’t he? This was hopeless.
Is it hopeless?
The way things were, he’d have to push his way between the orcs and their shields. No way was Stealth going to get him through that.
What the hell? One-and-a-half percent? Who was I kidding?
It’s zero, isn’t it?
Haruhiro stood there in a daze. It only lasted a moment. But he absolutely let his guard down.
The nearest orc looked at him, looked away, and looked again.
“Ngh...?!”
He saw me.
Haruhiro couldn’t shrug this off with an “Oops.” What was he doing? They’d noticed him.
“Zigassa!” The white-haired orc raised his single-edged sword to intimidate Haruhiro. But he didn’t leave his post. His job was to guard the gate even if it meant his death.
“Hahhhh!” Tada slammed his warhammer into one of the orcs on the front line. It pulverized the orc’s shield, but another orc stepped up to take the place of the orc whose shield had been destroyed, and thrust his weapon at Tada, who was forced to back off temporarily.
“...!” Shinohara charged in to take Tada’s place, jostling against two or three orcs with his relic shield held in front of him, knocking them off balance. Shinohara’s shield flashed, and he slashed away at the orcs’ single-edged swords and shields. Tada came in again with a forward flip to hit them with a Somersault Bomb, smashing one white-haired orc’s head into pulp. But when one went down, another stepped in without missing a beat, immediately filling the hole in their formation.
What now? What should I do?
The white-haired orc from before still had his eyes on Haruhiro, growling to let him know he’d be run through if he came any closer.
Do I charge in?
If he charged in like a death-crazed lunatic, he might take one or two orcs down with him. But what good was that? There was no benefit to it.
It was pathetic, pitiful, and embarrassing, but Haruhiro was pinned with his back to the castle wall, unable to do anything. Well, no, he could breathe. He just couldn’t escape the guilt he felt over the fact that his heart was still beating, and he was still breathing. Maybe he ought to charge in like an enraged bull, heedless of the
consequences, and die. But, before that, was there anything he could do? He couldn’t imagine there was. There was nothing he could do. It was already over. That was how Haruhiro felt, to be honest. The thin sliver of hope he had clung to was completely gone now.
That was why what happened next stunned him.
“Grahhhhhh!”
The gate. Someone was grabbing the gate bar, trying to remove it.
“I am the demon lord! My! Time! Is! Noooow!”
Inui. It was Inui! Had his eyepatch come off? Had he taken it off himself? His ponytail had come undone, and his hair hung loose and wild.
“Weagasshah!” One of the white-haired orcs near the gate turned around and slashed at the madman.
“Nwoh-hohh...!” Inui let out a bizarre cry, leaping into the air like a demonic bird and dodging the strike. That caused him to let go of the gate bar, but Inui instantly grappled with another orc and slit his throat.
“Hyeh-arah!”
“Dammit!” shouted another voice. Looking over, it was Tsuguta of
Orion, pouncing on the orc closest to Haruhiro. Had he been in Stealth nearby, watching? He must have been stuck, unable to make a move, just like Haruhiro. But now it was sink or swim. There was little hope of getting the gate open anymore. Yeah, there was none. They could all struggle to the last, and that zero still might not even turn into point-one percent. But hopeless or not, it was preferable to sitting around, waiting for death.
Haruhiro made it look like he was charging in, then dove at a whitehaired orc’s feet. He penetrated their formation, quickly slipped behind their second row and clambered up an orc’s back to slit his throat with a dagger. Haruhiro then immediately stabbed the orc beside that one in the eye, tearing the blade free before grabbing him. A shield bashed into him, nearly knocking him out cold, but he still managed to grab the next orc’s white hair with his left hand. He wasn’t going to get thrown off. He summoned every last bit of strength he had in reserve and jammed his dagger into the back of the orc’s neck.
“Nghahhhh...!”
Right after that, he took another hit from a shield and may have actually lost consciousness. But if he did, it was for a few seconds at most.
“Ow...”
When the pain brought him back to his senses, he was being stomped and kicked by the orcs. He was right in the middle of their formation in front of the gate, crawling on the ground, or rather lying there like an old dishrag.
But it seemed the orcs weren’t kicking and stomping him intentionally. They weren’t even looking down. Their eyes were raised, looking at something more important as they shouted loudly.
Something. What could it be? Had something happened? Was something happening now? What? Haruhiro didn’t know. How could he know?
Haruhiro crawled forward. He took several kicks as he went. His head and back ached, but his left arm and right leg were even worse. They wouldn’t move properly. But in spite of that, he kept crawling between the orcs’ legs.
Finally, he managed to get out of the formation. When he crawled out between the feet of the orcs on the front line and looked up, Haruhiro saw the something, but he had no idea what it was, or what was happening. Was it because his eyes were a bit blurry? No, probably not. Anyway, the thing was flying. A flying object. No, maybe floating was more accurate. It wasn’t directly over Haruhiro, but above him diagonally, floating there between the gate and the building. Is it a kite? he wondered. The kite-like flying or floating object was pretty big. Oh, and there was something riding on top of it. Well, not so much something as someone. Probably human, or a humanoid creature. The creature was holding a lantern of some sort.
Whatever it was, the flying thing didn’t emit light itself, but he could see light, so he assumed the lantern was where it came from.
“Go, Shihorun...!” the creature atop the object cried loudly. The voice was familiar. Haruhiro might have been misremembering, but if he was right, it was a female voice belonging to someone he had met in the time between awaking beneath the Forbidden Tower and now.
I think that’s Io’s voice, Haruhiro suddenly realized. They had only been together for a very short time, so he couldn’t be confident. But there was one thing he was certain of. The woman who might have been Io had spoken a name.
Shihorun.
That was close to a name Haruhiro knew. Very close. He couldn’t imagine it was unrelated. The similarity was too great.
Something, someone leaned out over the edge of the flying, or maybe floating, object. She was pale. Pale-skinned. She. It was a woman. Definitely a human woman. And he was shocked to see that she wasn’t wearing anything fit to be called clothes. No, maybe she did have some kind of clothes on. They just weren’t very thick. As wispy as they were, she was wearing something, of a pale, whitish color too.
“Dark,” she said.
Something black appeared. It wrapped itself around the woman in an instant. She leapt from the flying or floating object in the embrace of that blackness. The kobolds barked at her. The orcs shouted. The undead did too. And so did Haruhiro and the other humans. No one could remain calm, witnessing this. What was that thing? What did it all mean?
The girl wrapped in darkness fluttered to the ground. Slowly.
Too slowly to be falling.
Was that black cloud doing something, curbing her descent? It had to be. The dark thing wrapped around her grew larger by the second. Dark tentacles sprouted from it one after another, and they grew. In length and in thickness. The thing was clearly sinister. No one, regardless of their race, thought otherwise.
That thing is terrifying. I’d better not touch it. I’d better not let it touch me.
I should run. That thing is decidedly not good.
There was still time before she touched down. But one of the black tentacles lashed out at a white-haired orc.
“Gah...?!”
The black tentacle curled around him, easily popping the orc’s head off.
“Shihoru!” Yume shouted. Merry called out her name at almost the exact same time.
Yeah. Shihoru. That’s Shihoru. Shihoru. It’s Shihoru. Dark. That’s Dark. Shihoru’s magic. That bizarre nshooooo sound. I’ve heard it before. That’s Shihoru’s magic.
That’s really her magic?

 

That black thing, with those black tentacles plucking the arms and heads off orcs, kobolds, and undead as if it were pulling weeds, is Shihoru’s magic?
“Ough...! Ooughh...!” Zan Dogran’s shout echoed. He had been winning his duel with Renji. Victory was right in front of him. But that didn’t even matter now. No one, friend or foe, could afford to keep fighting.
“The hell?!”
“Sh-Shihoru-san...!”
“Seriously?!”
“Jesus!”
Ranta, Kuzaku, Kikkawa, and Anna-san ran around at random along with the enemy, or ducked and tried to take cover.
“Hahhhh!” Tokimune twirled his longsword and took a swing at Zan Dogran.
“Ngh!” Zan Dogran deflected Tokimune’s longsword with the singleedged sword in his left hand, then countered with the one in his right. Tokimune blocked with his shield, then not so much jumped back as was forced to retreat by Zan Dogran’s superior strength. He stepped back in to attack, even though he stood no chance.
Tokimune must have known that, but there was Renji behind him. Had the effect of Aragarfald worn off? Renji was squatting.
Had he used up his power? He wasn’t moving. Ron, Chibi-chan, and Adachi rushed to his side. Until they could evacuate him, Tokimune needed to buy time against Zan Dogran.
“Ahh!” Haruhiro was trying to get up. He felt he had to do something, and he wanted to.
Shihoru. No.
Shihoru’s Dark whirled, and those caught in the vortex never escaped. They were chopped up before they could. Torn to pieces. Arms, legs, heads, torsos cut into rings, and bodily fluids flew about wildly. Was it only enemies? Or were there allies, comrades, in there too? Who could say? Haruhiro didn’t know. In the center of the inky black vortex, Shihoru, her face just barely visible, was about to touch down on the ground. That horrifying dark eddy filled nearly the entire gap between the wall and the building. If any of their comrades were in there, there was no saving them.
“Hoo-rahhhh...!”
There was an incredible sound coming from the gate. Tada. Tada was slamming his warhammer into the gate bar, and it gave way under the first blow. The white-haired orcs in front were in a panic, and there was no sign of the impenetrable defensive formation they’d been in before. Tada and Shinohara hadn’t missed the opportunity. They’d eliminated whatever orcs still tried to stand in their way, and finally reached their goal. And then Tada had demolished the only thing holding the gate shut.
“I’m opening it!” Shinohara slammed his shield into the gate and pushed.
“Dammiiiit!” Tada put his right foot on the gate. He pushed like hell.
It was opening.
The gate was opening.
“Zongadda...! Zaaaajih...!” Zan Dogran shouted while deflecting Tokimune with his twin swords. That had to be Orcish. Haruhiro obviously didn’t know what it meant, but it was probably some sort of order. The white-haired orcs started pushing on the gate with Tada and Shinohara. Had Zan Dogran ordered them to do that? They were trying to get it open. That was the only possible conclusion. “Wha...?!”
“The hell’s with these guys...?!”
Shinohara and Tada were confused. Even as they tried to understand what was happening around them, the gate swung outward. It didn’t take long for the gate to open wide enough for a number of people to pass through. Once it did, the white-haired orcs started pouring out.
“Huh...?”
Something jumped over Haruhiro. He still couldn’t stand, and his left arm and right leg wouldn’t move as he wanted them to, so he couldn’t even get up on all fours. He twisted around, trying to see what had jumped over him, and it was Zan Dogran, on his way out the gate.
Oh.
“He’s running...?” So that’s it.
The detached force and Shihoru were in the old castle. And now that the gate was open too, the main force would come rushing in. Their defenses were already broken. They couldn’t defend this stronghold. That was what Zan Dogran had decided. Instead of fighting to the last man, until only one side or the other remained, he ordered all his forces to retreat.
The enemy fled as fast as they could. All rushing outside. Where were they going to go once they got out?
“Shihoru...”
What did it matter where they went? Haruhiro didn’t care. Once the enemy ran away, they were not his problem.
The black vortex stopped stretching its tentacles out in all directions and began to contract. There were no enemies left anywhere near it. Or allies. No limbs, heads, or chopped-up bodies with their fluids flying around. There was only that black thing, and Shihoru, wrapped in Dark. Had Shihoru already landed? Dark was covering most of her body, so it was hard to say anything for certain. It felt like her face was a little high up for her feet to be on the ground.
Haruhiro crawled. He shouldn’t get any closer. It was dangerous. Something inside Haruhiro, his reason or instinct, was sounding the alarm bells. So it’s not like he wasn’t scared. Dark’s tentacles were still reaching, and if one so much as brushed Haruhiro, the results would no doubt end him.
But would Shihoru do a thing like that?
If she really was Shihoru, that is.
Her face was Shihoru’s.
Dark.
That was Shihoru’s magic.
Her unique magic.
Had it always been so horrifying?
At some point, Haruhiro had stopped crawling forward. It was the pain. He ached all over. He probably had broken bones and severed tendons. That was why. Not because Shihoru scared him. Or that Shihoru might kill him. Those thoughts didn’t cross his mind.
She was his comrade, after all.
It was impossible. Shihoru, kill him? She would never.
“Shihoru?”
She had been looking down at him since before Haruhiro called her name. Her eyes were turned to face him, but they were unfocused. “Shihoru?” Haruhiro called her name one more time. He started to question if maybe he was wrong. Maybe it was another person who just looked the same and happened to be able to use Shihoru’s magic. Was this a case of mistaken identity?
It was an absurd thought. She looked so much like her. Too much like her. But something was wrong. She didn’t respond to his call.
If, by some remote chance, she wasn’t Shihoru, that would obviously mean she wasn’t his comrade.
The Dark wrapped around her suddenly spread his wings like a massive black bird about to take flight. Dark turned into countless thin, black tentacles that whirled into another vortex, and a part of it brushed against Haruhiro’s face. He knew it had gouged through his nose and cheeks, as well as the skin of his forehead, and even the bone beneath.
I’m dead, thought Haruhiro. I’ll be killed.
If Haruhiro were in top condition, he’d have leapt to his feet immediately and run for it. But that was beyond his abilities right now. He felt weak. His body wouldn’t move like he told it to.
“Shihoru?”
She’s not Shihoru. Not my comrade. Shihoru wouldn’t do this. Wouldn’t kill me. There’s no way she’s Shihoru.
But even as he thought that, the only thing Haruhiro could do was call her name.
“You...” She spoke.
He watched as Dark withdrew. Coiling around her body, shrinking toward her back. Dark was vanishing. More and more of her appeared. She was wearing a thin outfit that was almost white. It covered her from her chest to halfway down her thighs, hanging by strings over her shoulders, almost like underwear.
Dark finally vanished. Or so Haruhiro thought, before a black, humanoid thing flew out from behind her. It stopped to perch on her shoulder.
“Do...you...know...me?” she asked. Asked Haruhiro. With empty eyes. In the voice of his comrade, Shihoru, which he knew so well.
I know you.
That’s what he should reply.
Shihoru.
He should just say her name again.
Shihoru. You’re Shihoru, right? It’s me. It’s Haruhiro. Don’t you recognize me, Shihoru?
Why couldn’t he say it? He couldn’t even nod.
“Shihorun.”
Something was coming down. It was that object. The one that floated like a kite—no, that flew. The flying object descended, and he could see who was on it.
“We’re done here. Time to head home.” It was Io.
But not just Io. There were two others with her. One of them was dressed all in black and had a scary face, and the other had terribly long bangs. Gomi and Tasukete. Gomi was carrying the lantern.
“Come on.” Tasukete offered her his hand.
Shihoru stared vacantly at it. As if she had no idea what it was.
“You want to go home, right?”
At Io’s urging, Shihoru extended her right hand to Tasukete. Tasukete took it, and pulled her up onto the flying object.
“Wait...”
It wasn’t until the flying object began to rise that Haruhiro finally tried to stop her.
“Wait, Shihoru, it’s me! Shihoru! It’s me...! Shihoru...!”
Shihoru sat on the flying object that was probably a relic and looked down at Haruhiro. Her brow furrowed, as if she were mystified. She cocked her head to the side, unable to understand. Haruhiro searched her expression and gestures for any hints. Proof that she was Shihoru. He thought she was. If she was Shihoru—if she was Haruhiro’s comrade—then obviously she would know him. How could she not? So why? Why did she react like she was wondering who this random person calling her name was? She was Shihoru, and yet for some reason, she didn’t know Haruhiro.
She doesn’t remember.
Shihoru had forgotten Haruhiro.
It’s her memories.
They’ve been erased.
Shihoru’s memories had been stolen again.



Afterword
Why do people explore dungeons? Okay, I’m sure there are some people who don’t really want to clear dungeons, but I’m one of the ones that does. If I see a dungeon, I suddenly find myself wanting to clear it. That’s not just in games. When I was a child, if I saw a hole or gap I could fit myself into, you could guarantee I was going to try going inside. Sometimes that resulted in me getting myself into incredible adventures, but it would take too long to tell those stories, so I’ll leave it at that.
After this afterword there are some short stories that serve as an epilogue and a preview of the next volume. Please read them after completing the main story.
To my editor, Harada-san, to Eiri Shirai-san, to the designers at
KOMEWORKS among others, to everyone involved in the production and sale of this book, and finally to all of you people now holding this book, I offer my heartfelt appreciation and all of my love. Now, I lay down my pen for today.

Chapter end