19 10

Setora led the way, and Kuzaku followed.
Suddenly, a thought occurred to him: Did I always walk this fast?
He remembered being clumsier and feeling frustrated about the way that nothing he tried to do went smoothly. He’d think that he wanted to do this or that, and he wanted to do it a specific way, but it never went as he’d envisioned. It must’ve been because of how big he was. That’s what Kuzaku had always thought.
He was too tall. His legs, too long. His trunk too. There was too much of him. Did he not have enough muscle? He’d tried training, but the added weight from his increased muscle mass had caused other problems. He had never been able to find a good balance, and hadn’t known enough to figure out how best to strengthen himself. It wasn’t something he could go to the others for advice about either, because it was an issue with his own body. Ultimately, Kuzaku had had to figure it out on his own. Whenever he wasn’t hyper-focused, he had often found himself thinking things like, Man, I’m slow, and Why do I have to be so ungainly? and If I’m this big, how do I still not have enough power? He just hadn’t been able to avoid taking notice of his weaknesses.
Still, the old Kuzaku hadn’t taken his many shortcomings too seriously. He felt like he hadn’t been particularly harsh on others, and he had definitely been soft on himself. He’d liked it when people went easy on him, so he treated others the way he’d hoped to be treated.
Man, I was kind of a shit, huh? That was how Kuzaku felt about it now. Not that there’s a problem with having a guy like that around. It was as if he were thinking about a different person.
Setora and Kuzaku were steadily approaching the Southern Expedition’s camp site.
There were sentries scattered around the edges of the camp, as you would expect. Setora boldly and indifferently walked between two of them. Kuzaku followed her. The orcs were sleeping out in the open. Some had thick cloths or furs laid out beneath them, while others slept directly on the ground. There were hundreds of orcs roughing it like that, all around a collection of tents more or less in the center of the camp. The commanders would be sleeping in the tents, no doubt. Perk of the position. There were guards carrying torches standing near the tents. Watch fires too. Occasionally, an orc would lumber to his feet and wander off somewhere. Probably to take a piss.
No one took notice of Setora and Kuzaku. Even those who did see them never thought they might be intruders.
There was an impressive circular tent in the middle of the camp, large enough to house a family or two. Apparently, orcs mostly lived out in the wastelands in tents like this. Would that make this tent effectively the house of a clan leader?
The big tent had five or six smaller tents around it. It was pretty bright in that area, and there were a lot of guards, of course. The orcs raised massive boars, which they used as mounts, and Kuzaku could spot a number of them tied up here and there.
Maga Odoha, the leader of the Southern Expedition’s detached force, was likely inside that big tent.
Kuzaku and Setora had been defending the former Ironblood Kingdom up until the No-Life King had dispatched them here to Grozdendahl three days ago.
At first, the king had only had the two of them, but fortunately, the area around the former Ironblood Kingdom had an abundance of elf, dwarf, and orc corpses. Now that he was fully awakened, he was able to use his powers—which were so incredible you could only laugh— to resurrect those bodies. Basically, the king had created new undead subjects. The broken undead that had stopped moving could also be recycled as spare parts for the new undead.
Importantly, the undead were strong against the sekaishu. In fact, the king had initially come up with the undead as one of his countermeasures against it. If he put a wall of undead in the sekaishu’s way, it wouldn’t have an easy time getting close to him.
Still, there were other enemies aside from the sekaishu, and the main force of the Southern Expedition had been trying a variety of tactics to get inside the former Ironblood Kingdom. At the king’s request, Kuzaku and Setora had mainly focused on them.
They killed when they had to, but also took a number of captives for the king to interrogate. The king was fluent in the human, orc, and— obviously—undead languages.
Using the information he’d learned from the prisoners, the king had come up with a plan and asked Kuzaku and Setora to carry it out. He could have ordered them to do it and they wouldn’t have refused, but the fact that he still always asked them was so typical of the king. He didn’t even like being called a king, apparently. It’d be nice to come up with something else to call him soon.
Maga Odoha was the head of the influential Odoha clan and hadn’t always been on such great terms with Great King Dif Gogun.
Dif Gogun and Maga Odoha were both clan leaders, and the Gogun clan hadn’t been greatly superior to the Odoha clan. The two had been on about the same level. Rivals, basically. From Maga Odoha’s perspective, there was no real reason he should have to obey Dif Gogun, his equal.
That was why, early on, he’d taken a combative posture, like, You wanna go, punk? He’d started fights that he lost, been bullied, had his followers poached, lost his temper, and gone to raid Dif Gogun’s place only to get ambushed, and eventually, with no choice left, finally bent the knee.
Still, Maga Odoha had shown his determination, like, I’ll submit, but you’d better give the Odoha clan preferential treatment. If you don’t, we’ll fight until you kill every last one of us. I’ll kill you and die myself.
Dif Gogun had been impressed, like, That’s some tough talk. I can see you really mean it. You’re so manly, and happily accepted it.
Maga Odoha was a brave warrior who wielded a great naginata and dyed all of his hair green and yellow in the tradition of the Odoha clan. But he was more of a thinker than a fighter, and widely seen as a clever individual. He was knowledgeable, could read and write, and was said to be well-versed in the study of languages, though not on the same level as Kuzaku’s king. He could speak languages other than Orcish, and was relatively close to Jumbo of Forgan. These days, he was also a good friend of Great King Dif Gogun and could appeal to him directly.
Setora slipped between two of the tents surrounding Maga Odoha’s. Kuzaku followed her. There was a sentry not five meters away, so he was amazed they weren’t spotted. The old Kuzaku would have been sweating buckets. Mind you, the current one wasn’t exactly thinking, It’ll be fine, we can definitely pull it off, either. He was concerned. I dunno. Won’t he spot us? Well, maybe not concerned. He had almost no sense of fear. No, not almost, he had none whatsoever. If things got hairy, so be it. He looked forward to seeing what would happen then, including what might happen to him.
He had a lot to look forward to.
Like meeting Haruhiro, for one thing.
How would Haruhiro react when they met again? Would he cry when he saw what Kuzaku had become? Or would he laugh? He might be afraid and confused.
How would Kuzaku feel, killing Haruhiro with his own hands?
The old Kuzaku had liked Haruhiro. And not just a little. He’d loved and respected everything about the man. He’d adored him.
What about now?
He didn’t think he hated him. Surely the current Kuzaku liked Haruhiro too.
But if it were a question of if he could kill him or not, he probably could.
No matter what happened, the old Kuzaku could never have done that. He’d have offed himself instead.
Now, he was simply intrigued by the prospect.
How exactly had Kuzaku changed? If he met Haruhiro, he’d be able to figure that out, to a degree. If he killed Haruhiro, even more so. Even if he didn’t up and kill the thief right away, what would Kuzaku feel, holding a half-dead Haruhiro by the throat, able to end the other’s life at any moment? What would he say? What would Haruhiro do? If he could, he wanted to find out.
Setora didn’t stop after slipping between the tents. It was a straight shot to Maga Odoha’s from here. The entrance to the big tent was in the front. This was the back. There were guards nearby. Armed orcs, not even three meters away. The hair spilling out from under their helmets was green and yellow. They were from the Odoha clan, then. The sentries hadn’t noticed Setora and Kuzaku yet, but it was only a matter of time until they did. The two intruders were just walking past them toward the tent, so there was no way they wouldn’t notice.
Setora drew her sword and thrust it into the big tent.
No doubt hearing the noise, the sentries turned in their direction.
Unconcerned, Setora continued making a vertical tear through both the thick fabric of the tent and its frame.
The orcs were shouting something in their language, but by that point, Setora and Kuzaku were both stepping through the hole she’d made in the tent. She’d done considerable damage to the frame, but it wasn’t going to collapse that easily. This big tent was sturdy. There was a furnace with a chimney in the middle, a low bed, a table, a chest, chairs, shelves, and barrels. The orc lying in the bed jumped to his feet. He was the only one in there.
“Kuzaku.”
Kuzaku moved before Setora could give him the order. He knew he was a bit slow in the head. Still, he wasn’t such a total moron that he’d forget what he needed to be doing at a time like this.
The orc was taller than Kuzaku, who was 190 centimeters, and his width was even more impressive than his height. His long and wild hair was dyed green and yellow, and he wore a kimono-like outfit tied at the front with a belt. Was that what he always wore to bed?
The orc pulled a dagger from his pocket and tried to unsheathe it. Kuzaku moved faster, karate chopping the orc’s left wrist. He dropped the dagger with a grunt of pain.
Sorry, Kuzaku thought as he buried his left fist in the orc’s solar plexus. Almost simultaneously, his right fist collided with the orc’s jaw. Yeah, Kuzaku’s body was definitely moving better than it had before. He didn’t tire either. He was in top condition. Having his body do exactly what he told it to felt really good.
“Nwagwah!”
The orc tried to grab Kuzaku. It was impressive that he’d chosen fight over flight. But it hadn’t been because of a clear-headed decision on the orc’s part. It was instinct, or desperation. Kuzaku easily evaded the orc’s grasp and got around behind him, then pinned the orc’s arms behind his back and sat down on the bed. The orc tried to resist, of course. Kuzaku understood why, but it would do the orc no good.
“General Maga Odoha.” Setora leveled her sword at the orc’s throat. “We are emissaries of the No-Life King.”
“Ngh!”
The moment he heard that name, Maga Odoha ceased struggling. He seemed pretty surprised—for now, at least.
Orcish soldiers rushed into the tent, shouting something. Setora didn’t even glance at the entrance. Her eyes were focused solely on Maga Odoha. The tip of her sword, which could have ended his life at any moment, didn’t waver in the slightest.
“Have them stand down. We simply want to talk.”
“Wagah guddoah...” Maga said gutturally, giving an order to the soldiers. One of them tried to argue, but Maga Odoha repeated his command in a harsher tone. The soldiers left the tent without turning their backs to Kuzaku and Setora. There were still a number of them peering in through the hole Setora had opened, but they didn’t look like they were about to charge in.
“Noddorago... The No-Life King...?” Maga Odoha spoke with a low rumble in his throat. “You people are...human. You say you’re humans...serving the No-Life King?”
“Exactly,” Setora replied, her sword still not moving in the slightest.
Hm, what about Setora-san? Kuzaku wondered.
The old Setora and the new one. What about her had changed and what hadn’t? Kuzaku had pestered her about it repeatedly, but she wouldn’t give him a proper answer. He thought she was quieter compared to before, at least. She’d always had an incredibly subdued personality, but now she showed even less emotion.
“We died once. The No-Life King shared a part of himself with us and turned us into something not human.”
“Not...human?”
“Long ago, there were the five children, or the five princes. Do you know of them?”
“I do... Even now, King Ishi, Deres Pain, Architekra, and Gyabigo...still live.”
“You may think of us as the same as them. New princes, essentially.”
Setora sounded so serious when she said that, Kuzaku couldn’t help but crack a smile.
“I dunno, it’s not really my style, and you strike me as more of a princess than a prince, Setora-san.”
“Don’t speak more than necessary,” she said without glaring at him. That made him kinda sad. If she was going to chastise him, he’d prefer it if she’d give him a real look of scorn and punch and kick him and stuff.
I think I might be a masochist, Kuzaku began to suspect. It wasn’t that he wanted just anyone to treat him that way. He just happened to really like it when Setora was mean to him.
“Princes of the No-Life King...” Maga snorted, shaking his head a little. “You expect me...to believe that?”
“No.”
Setora suddenly withdrew her sword. And furthermore, she let go of it. It fell to the carpet with a dull thud.
“I hope you’ll believe us, but I won’t force you to. I think I’ve already told you. We simply want to talk. Kuzaku.”
“Roger.”
Kuzaku let go of Maga Odoha and moved away from the bed to stand next to Setora. Setora was the first to bow her head and take a knee. Kuzaku followed her example.
“I apologize for our rudeness, General Maga Odoha,” Setora said, her head still lowered. “However, I doubt we would have been able to approach you had we not resorted to these measures. We do not seek to fight. Nor to kill even a single one of your soldiers. That is why we chose to do things this way. Please understand that.”
Kuzaku could have picked up Setora’s sword and gone on the attack at any moment. It probably wouldn’t have been impossible for them to cut their way out of the camp through the orcish soldiers. He wouldn’t know until he tried, but he figured the two of them could pull it off with the strength they had now. But only as a last resort.
“You don’t...seek to fight?” Maga Odoha was still sitting on the bed. He could have gone for the dagger Kuzaku had knocked out of his hands, or the great naginata that was standing near the bed, but he wasn’t doing that. “You want to talk. That’s what you’re trying to tell me?”
“Precisely.” Setora still had not raised her face. Her eyes were looking straight down. “The king seeks dialogue. He wishes to be friends with you. That is his true desire, the same as it was during the era of the Alliance of Kings.”
“Friends...”
“I should add, the king did not order us to do this. He asked. He was hoping that we would come on his behalf and communicate his intentions to you.”
As he listened to Setora speak, Kuzaku was reminded of the No-Life King’s voice and face. If the king hadn’t looked like who he appeared to be, would they have done it? Maybe they wouldn’t have responded to “Could you run a little errand for me? Please? I’m counting on you,” with an instant “You betcha.” Or maybe it didn’t matter who the king looked like. If he thought about it, they owed the king their lives. The king had made the new Kuzaku and Setora from the old. In a way, he’d given birth to them.
Could Kuzaku and Setora defy the king? It was possible that they couldn’t refuse him. There might have been some kind of compulsion that would stop them from doing so, even if his requests were unreasonable. Kuzaku couldn’t be sure, even if he did feel like he had the ability to say, Yeah, I dunno about that. I’d rather not.
But with that face? And that voice too? There was honestly a part of him that thought, That’s Merry-san.
Kuzaku understood. The king was like Merry, but he wasn’t her. It wasn’t even clear if Merry still existed inside him. It could be that she was just a wrapper at this point.
Still, he couldn’t help thinking, But that’s Merry.
Though he had no memory of it, he suspected that Kuzaku might have been in love with Merry. But Haruhiro loved Merry, and Merry had loved him back. They were both so innocent and shy that he couldn’t be sure exactly how far things had gone. However, he was certain their love had been mutual.
Kuzaku had probably felt affection for Merry. He’d fallen in love with her.
Knowing his personality, he must have worn his heart on his sleeve. He couldn’t imagine that he hadn’t told her how he felt. And she’d shot him down. Had his heart been seriously broken, or had she let him down gently? Either way, Haruhiro had gotten close to Merry after that. Come to think of it, Haruhiro had known Merry longer, so maybe the thief had loved her all along.
But, well, this was Haruhiro. He knew how Haruhiro was. Knowing him, he had probably dragged his feet about it forever. Yet despite that, after everything that had happened, the two of them had finally gotten together. Really, though, how far had the two of them gone? Kuzaku was extremely curious, but there was no way to know. There had been a lot of positive energy going back and forth between them, however. And then that had to go and happen.
The old Kuzaku would have felt pretty beat up over it, but the current one wanted to get up and dance.
Aw, man. I feel bad for you, Haruhiro. Like, what the hell? How is that fair? How does that even happen? I mean, seriously. I feel ridiculously bad for you. You must’ve been shocked silly, Haruhiro.
Would Haruhiro be able to recover from what he’d been through? Assuming he wasn’t dead, of course. But Kuzaku figured he had survived somehow. He was a stubborn one, that Haruhiro. Oh, and awfully lucky too. Haruhiro might not have thought so, but the facts spoke for themselves. Haruhiro had managed to walk away from situations that should have killed him more times than Kuzaku cared to count. If not for some pretty crazy good fortune, he would have died by now. Like Kuzaku had. It was a matter of luck, and Haruhiro’s was good. It’d take an awful lot to kill him.
That’s why he was sure Haruhiro was all right.
He was out there somewhere. Alive.
It seemed the No-Life King wanted to talk to Maga Odoha, and by extension, the great king of the orcs, Dif Gogun. But the one Kuzaku wanted to talk to was definitely Haruhiro.
Haruhiro, man, I’m with Merry-san. Well, I’m not with her right this second, but I’m working with her. She might have changed on the inside, but it’s still Merry-san, right? Part of her is in me now. I can tell. Merry and I are different, but we’re connected somehow.
You know I loved Merry, right? I dunno if she rejected me or what, but in the end, she got together with you, yeah? Well, it wasn’t actually “the end,” was it? There was more after that. Now I’m with Merry-san, and you aren’t. And the way I see it, I’m probably with Merry-san forever now.
I’d like you to know that I didn’t want it to be this way. Okay? This is just how it all worked out. And I’m thinking things aren’t so bad like this. Setora-san’s with us too. I’m not lonely. I’m the opposite of that, I guess. And I don’t feel uneasy. I’m probably kidding myself, but I feel like there’s nothing I can’t do.
If Kuzaku told Haruhiro all that, what would his reaction be? Would he cry? He’d start bawling, wouldn’t he? I’d love to see that, thought Kuzaku. He wanted to watch as Haruhiro wept like a child. What would he feel then? The idea fascinated him.
Setora was negotiating with Maga Odoha to have him act as their intermediary and arrange a meeting with Great King Dif Gogun. That was the king’s desire, but Kuzaku’s was to see Haruhiro. He’d get his chance eventually. The anticipation was killing him.
“Hey.” Setora elbowed Kuzaku in the ribs.
“Huh...? What? What’s up?”
“Were you not listening?” Setora sent Kuzaku a look that could kill.
Ooh, scary. Kuzaku chuckled and gave her a goofy grin. “Uh, yeah? I was listening. Kinda. Sorta. Huh? You’re all finished now?”
“In light of the situation between our groups, we will initially be taken to Grozdendahl as detainees. After that, General Maga Odoha will arrange an audience with Great King Dif Gogun for us.”
“Detainees?”
“Prisoners.”
“Whaaa? We’re letting them catch us? Is that really a good idea?”
“Consider how this looks for the general. He cannot be expected to treat us as honored guests after we suddenly invaded his camp.”
“We held off on killing anyone to show we weren’t enemies, though. This sure seems like a lot of work just to talk to one guy. Well, whatever.”
Kuzaku rose before she could say anything more and began disarming himself of every weapon he’d been carrying. He asked Maga Odoha if he should get naked, just so the orc could be sure he was now completely unarmed, but he was told that wouldn’t be necessary, so he left his clothes on and put his hands up.
“All right. Now tie me up or whatever it is you’re gonna do.”
“Can’t you take this a little more seriously?” Setora complained. She had disarmed herself like Kuzaku. Maga Odoha seemed taken aback by this turn of events, which was kind of funny.
And that was how Kuzaku and Setora ended up bound and captured. That said, though their arms were behind their backs in manacles, they weren’t tied to a stake or chucked in a cage or anything like that. There was still some time left before dawn, but Maga Odoha ordered that his forces be roused, and had them prepare to set out. The detached force of the Southern Expedition departed before sunrise.
On the march, Kuzaku and Setora walked surrounded by many orc soldiers. The soldiers, unlike the general, smelled like wild beasts, making it hard to bear the stench of them, but considering they were returning from a campaign, that was probably to be expected. The two of them got used to the smell eventually.
They crossed the Ruko river around the time the sun began to rise. The bridge, lined with stone arches, looked both sturdy and cool.
Kuzaku had already seen Grozdendahl from across Lake Gandah. He’d been thinking, Hey, the Swan Palace looks pretty cool. Guess it’ll have a sizable town, huh? But that didn’t even come close to the reality of the place. It wasn’t just “sizable.” The number of buildings was ridiculous. Orcs were big. They couldn’t live in tiny houses, so their buildings generally had to be big too.
The farmland spreading out around the city area of Grozdendahl was also a sight to behold. The fields, neatly separated by paths and windbreaks, were abundant with green produce, and scattered around them were windmills and clusters of huts and warehouses. It seemed to stretch on forever. There was so much civilization here, it was crazy. Sure, there had been fields and pastures around Alterna, but not on this scale. The gap was insurmountable. Like the difference between heaven and earth.
The road from the bridge to Grozdendahl was paved with stone. It was easily fifteen meters across, making it easy for Maga Odoha’s detachment of the Southern Expedition to march along it. It didn’t feel cramped at all.
The Southern Expedition’s detached force had to stop in front of Grozdendahl and divert into the side roads that spread out around the grassy fields, where they would stand by. Even while they waited, they could kill time looking at the city.
Eventually, what appeared to be orcish civilians, young and old, pressed toward them, cheering, clapping, whistling, and offering the soldiers of the detached force flowers and drinks that were likely alcoholic.
All of this celebration was solely for the return of the soldiers, obviously, so Setora was completely expressionless, not reacting to it in the slightest. Kuzaku, on the other hand, was pumped up. Sure, it had nothing to do with him. But who was going to complain if he got excited and made some noise too?
Setora, certainly.
Yeah, I bet she will. She’ll totally be pissed. Well, whatever. Let her be mad.
“Yayyyyyy! Yahoooo...!” Kuzaku let out a celebratory cheer and, as expected, Setora stomped down on his foot with all of her might, making him scream out in pain.
“You’re gonna break something, Setora-san... My bones are just about pulverized. It hurts when you do that, okay?”
“You’ll get better.”
“Well, yeah.”
After some time, Kuzaku and Setora were separated from the soldiers and brought into Grozdendahl under guard. For various reasons, they were loaded onto a carriage to be brought in. Although, considering carriages were supposed to be drawn by horses, not giant boars, was it still correct to call it that? Two orcs rode with Kuzaku and Setora inside the carriage-that-might-notactually-be-a-carriage with its windows shut tight. To keep an eye on them, presumably.
“Hey, hey, Setora-san. D’you know what they call those big, boar-like creatures?”
“I haven’t the foggiest.”
“Well, ask. Get the orcs guarding us to tell you.”
“I don’t speak Orcish any more than you do. If you really need to know, you’ll have to ask yourself.”
“Screw that. Too much effort.”
“Somehow, you’ve become even more insufferable...”
“Oh, yeah? Really? I’m pretty sure I was always like this. You, though? You’re definitely putting more effort into playing hard to get than you used to. Let’s make nice. I mean, we’re comrades and all, right? And we’re in the same boat here, aren’t we? Oh, hey! I’ve got an idea. How about we make a baby together sometime?”
“Come again...?”
“Yeah, a baby. You and me. What do you say? I wouldn’t mind doing it more than once. Do you think we can make babies? If we are able to, I wonder how they’d turn out. Aren’t you interested?”
“You’re asking out of curiosity?”
“Naw. If you’re the mother, I think I could really get into babymaking. Listen, I know it’s awkward if I just come out and say I wanna do it with you. But I’m not just making a dirty joke here, okay? I’m serious. I like the way you look, and your personality’s kinda cute, in a way.”
“What do you mean, ‘in a way’?”
“Y’know, I’m not really sure.”
“You’re the one who said it.”
“Well, what it comes down to is...I like you. I dunno if I love you; that’s a bit more iffy, but like you? Yeah, I like you, Setora-san.”
Setora let out an exaggerated sigh but gave no further response.
The carriage-that-might-not-actually-be-a-carriage continued to rattle along for an awfully long time. The two orcs didn’t say a word the entire ride. They just silently watched Kuzaku and Setora. These orcs, by the way, had their hair dyed red and blue. Kuzaku tried to chat them up, saying their hair looked awesome, among other things, but they simply ignored him. They were frighteningly stoic. Big too, with orange clothing and silver armor, carrying what looked to be high-quality hand axes and longswords. They might have been elites, not just run-of-the-mill guards.
When they were let out of the carriage-that-might-not-actually-be-acarriage, they were right in front of the Swan Palace. From this perspective, it looked like a great white bird, ready to take off into the cerulean sky.
On either side of the stone steps leading up to the Swan Palace— which seemed to be completely white—stood lines of orc soldiers in orange clothes and silver armor, carrying not just hand axes and longswords, but also spears and shields on top of that. The hair spilling out from under their helms was also red and blue. They probably belonged to the same clan.

Chapter end