c16 3

“In my memories, we went to the Leslie Camp and—”
The moment Merry mentioned that name, Shinohara’s face changed color.
“The Leslie Camp? Ainrand Leslie’s camp?” Merry looked daunted.
“...Oh. Yes. I think that’s right.”
“Through the Leslie Camp to another world, huh?” Shinohara crossed his arms. “What happened in that other world?”
“The thing is, I...” Merry bit her lip. “I don’t... um... remember the other world so well...”
Shihoru put a worried hand on Merry’s arm.
Shinohara was looking closely at Merry. What was that about? That look in his eyes. It wasn’t sharp, exactly.
No, that wasn’t it; was it doubt?
“I see.”
Was Shinohara suspicious of Merry?
At the very least, he didn’t seem wholly convinced by her story.
“Whatever it was, stuff happened in that other world, and you all woke up in the basement of the Forbidden Tower. When you did, you had forgotten everything but your names. Except for Merry.” Kuzaku clutched his head and groaned.
“Yeah man, thinking about it again, I dunno. It’s scary. I mean, it’s crazy, isn’t it? What the hell happened...?”
“What’s ‘crazy’ is your pitiful lack of vocabulary.”
When Setora said that, Kuzaku shouted out loud.
“Hey! I’m sensitive about that!”
Haruhiro smiled out of exasperation.
“So, it did bother you...”
“Just a little, though.”
Kuzaku held up his hand with his index finger and thumb so close together you couldn’t tell if they were touching or not.
“Seriously, only a little.”
“It ought to bother you more.”
“Setora-san, listen, could you not sit off in the corner, sniping at me?”
“What? Do you want me to stay close to you?”
“I dunno that I want you close, but I know I don’t want you gone, so I guess, yeah, I want you to stay reasonably close...?”
“I refuse.”
“What, you’re gonna refuse?”
Kuzaku slumped his shoulders.
“...What, you’re gonna refuse?”
“Why’d you have to say it twice...?” Haruhiro asked in exasperation.
Kuzaku looked at Haruhiro with upturned eyes.
“What is this I’m feeling now? It kinda hurts, you know...?”
“Jeez, you’re not an abandoned puppy...”
“Ohh, I see. That’s what this is, huh? This is how a dog feels when it’s abandoned by its master? Something like that, huh? You could be right...”
“Since when were you my pet?”
When Setora said that with clear disgust, Kuzaku’s eyes bugged out.
“Why’re you so against it...?”
“Do you not understand?”
“Huh? No, not at all. Why?”
“Whatever’s wrong with your head is beyond help...”
“...It’s fine. Really. I’ll get Merry-san to heal me.”
“I don’t think I can fix you.” Merry looked pretty displeased, too.
“Seriously?” Kuzaku was visibly shocked. “...Not even you can fix me? ...Seriously? I’ve got it bad...”
“Hey, now...”
For a moment, Haruhiro considered consoling him, but it felt wrong.
“Yeah, I guess you do, huh?”
“So that’s the kind of kid you were...”
Even if it was Shinohara, Haruhiro didn’t know how he felt about him treating Kuzaku like a kid. Well, he couldn’t blame him.
In an attempt to get things back on track, Haruhiro turned to Shinohara.
“If I say the name Hiyomu, do you know who I’m talking about?”
“Yes,” Shinohara answered, but he didn’t nod. “I know.” Something felt off.
What was it? Haruhiro wasn’t entirely sure.
“...Hiyomu, or her master, did something to us, and it seems like that’s what made us lose our memories.”
Shinohara fell silent. Had something occurred to him? Or was he confused? It was hard to say which. It was an odd moment.
Haruhiro glanced at Merry. Merry seemed to think it was weird, too. “Regardless.” Shinohara looked around at the group. “We should think of that matter as separate from the current problem. I can’t imagine the master of the Forbidden Tower would have invited the Southern Expedition in.”
“Yeah... I guess so...”
Haruhiro nearly cocked his head to the side. Something felt off. Again. But this time he felt like he’d caught a glimpse of what it was that bothered him.
Shinohara couldn’t imagine that the master of the Forbidden Tower had invited the Southern Expedition, which was to say the orcs, goblins, and kobolds.
That was what he had just said. It might well have been true. But wasn’t there something strange about it?
Well, he knew what that something was.
Who exactly was the master of the Forbidden Tower?
Haruhiro could make inferences.
Haruhiro and the others had woken up in the basement of the tower. Hiyomu had been mixed in with a group that was all volunteer soldiers, including Haruhiro. She pretended to have lost her memories, like everyone else. It was an act. Hiyomu had apparently been planning something nefarious on the orders of her master.
The master of the Forbidden Tower was probably Hiyomu’s master. That was a possible interpretation. It made sense.
However, Haruhiro had never once thought that Hiyomu’s master was the master of the Forbidden Tower before.
Hiyomu was deeply involved with the tower. There was no questioning that. But still, did the equation of “her master” = “the master of the tower” work?
The Forbidden Tower was supposed to be this mysterious building that volunteer soldiers weren’t able to enter.
Was that wrong?
Did Shinohara not think that? The Forbidden Tower had a master.
Did he know that someone was living there? Or was it just a rumor?
Still, at the very least, Merry hadn’t said anything like that.
“By the way,” Shinohara suddenly changed the subject, “did you hear that Yume-san and Ranta-kun are with the Volunteer Soldier Corps?”
“Yume...!” Merry covered her mouth with both hands. Her eyes seemed to be trying to push the limits of how wide they could open, and she looked like she might burst into tears any second.
Yume.
Ranta.
For Haruhiro, those were just names. He didn’t remember them, after all. But when he saw Merry’s reaction, he felt emotion welling up inside him.
“...They were with you guys, huh? I see. Both of them, too. I dunno... We split up with Ranta after we had a fight, right? Okay, maybe ‘had a fight’ isn’t the right way to put it. I don’t really know...”
Haruhiro tried to recall how Merry’d told him things had happened, but it wasn’t going very well.
“Ohh?!” Kuzaku started trembling, and wrapped his arms around himself. “I’m getting the shakes. What is this? Do I have some weird disease? Yeah, no. I don’t, right...?”
Shihoru was tearing up. She seemed bewildered by that.
“Having no memories of them, I have nothing in particular to say.” Setora was the same as ever. “I would rather have met them in person than simply be told they are well. That would have been quicker, and more certain. Couldn’t you have brought the two of them with you?”
“Um, did you have to say it like that to our senior, Setora-san...?” Kuzaku quietly chided her. Shinohara smiled.
“You don’t have to worry about it. The clan has a command structure, so it’s inevitable that there’s a hierarchy, but I’m a volunteer soldier, the same as all of you. We’re equals.” Setora had a faint smile on her face.
“I’m not even a volunteer soldier, so there’s even less need for me to mince words with you. I feel we’ll get hurt if we take your words at face value. I’m probably the suspicious type. I approach things without any preconceptions, but that only makes everyone seem dubious.”
Haruhiro felt like he’d had cold water poured on him.
Setora wasn’t wrong. Actually, Setora was rarely wrong about anything.
Yume and Ranta were alive, and working with the Volunteer Soldier Corps. That was good news. If it was true. Right now, the only one saying that was Shinohara.
“I did consider bringing them with me, of course.”
Shinohara didn’t look particularly offended. He was smiling, the same as before.
“But there’s the issue of your memories. I didn’t want to complicate an already complex situation. Taking everything into consideration, we talked it over within the Volunteer Soldier Corps, and this was what we decided to do. Yume-san and Ranta-kun both accepted it.” Setora simply shrugged, not saying any more.
Shinohara. The master of Orion. The guy seemed impeccable.
Unlike Setora, Haruhiro wasn’t particularly suspicious of him — okay, maybe that wasn’t true.
Merry seemed to trust him implicitly, but Haruhiro didn’t remember Shinohara, and Setora had never even met him. He seemed trustworthy. But even if he gave that impression, did that mean they could actually trust him?
Haruhiro might have just been trying to read too much into things. He was being cautious. That was for sure. Setora was probably doing the same.
He’d gone with the flow up to this point, because he’d had no other choice but to follow the path laid out in front of him.
Now he had come to a fork in the road. He had to decide which choice would be the best for him and his party.
Haruhiro looked around to each of his comrades.
“Everyone, if you’ve got any opinions, I want to hear them.” Kuzaku groaned and shook his head.
“I don’t think I do.”
“I haven’t even said what I’m talking about yet...”
“Would someone please silence this nincompoop?” Setora said coldly.
Shihoru let out a weak laugh.
“Setora-san.” Kuzaku’s expression was suddenly serious, which made Setora falter a little.
“...Wh-What?”
“You called me a nincompoop... Don’t you think that sounds kind of cute?”
“Is that a question you should ask with a serious look on your face?” “Nah, I just thought it.”
“And you have to say every single thing that passes through your head?”
“You know, maybe it does sound a little cute. Nincompoop...” Merry mumbled.
Haruhiro cleared his throat. Everyone turned to look at him.
“Erm. Listen, uh... What I’m trying to say is, we don’t have to let the Expeditionary Force... that is to say General Jin Mogis, boss us around forever. I think we can act as members of the Volunteer Soldier Corps.”
Everyone looked Haruhiro in the eye and nodded. So far, there were no objections. That seemed good enough.
“It’s just... the question of whether we should leave the
Expeditionary Force now or not is another matter. The general sees us as his pawns. I doubt he trusts us, but he’s trying to win us to his side. We need to think about what he might do if we try to say, ‘Okay, we’re going back to the Volunteer Soldier Corps now.’”
“That’s exactly it.”
Shinohara explained the Volunteer Soldier Corps’ current situation.
Haruhiro had been told this already, but the Volunteer Soldier Corps was suffering from a shortage of supplies. In fact, occupying
Riverside Iron Fortress had done nothing to ameliorate that.
The kobolds had some rather unique eating habits, so there hadn’t been much at the fortress that was fit for human consumption. While they weren’t starving yet, if they didn’t secure supplies soon, or have some given to them, the Volunteer Soldier Corps was going to face a food crisis in the not-so-distant future.
On top of that, Mount Grief, where they believed their enemies were gathering, was fifteen kilometers north of Riverside Iron Fortress. It was forty kilometers as the crow flew from Alterna, so Riverside Iron Fortress was much closer.
The Volunteer Soldier Corps had beaten 5,000 kobolds to take the fortress. However, taking it and holding it were two separate issues. The defender was usually supposed to have the overwhelming advantage, but that actually depended on the conditions.
The Volunteer Soldier Corps had overcome the difference in numbers with their powerful magic, and exceptional individual fighting ability.
But if they tried to defend the fortress with somewhere over a hundred people, were they going to have enough to cover all of the walls? If there was a single break anywhere, the fortress’s entire defense could collapse in an instant.
On top of that, if the orcs from Deadhead Watching Keep had gone to Mount Grief like they thought, the threat was only growing. The orcs were a far more dangerous race than the kobolds, after all.
If the enemies at Mount Grief came to attack Riverside Iron Fortress, the Volunteer Soldier Corps was going to have a pretty hard time. If they couldn’t hold the fort, they’d have no choice but to flee.
Where would they run?
Not the Wonder Hole. The Corps had been struggling at their base there. They had retaken Riverside Iron Fortress in order to open a route to their survival.
There was another possibility.
Alterna.
Assuming the Expeditionary Force would welcome them.
“For my part,” Shinohara said in a gentle, but firm tone, “I would like you to stay with the Expeditionary Force, the same as you have up until now. What you can take from that is, I’m asking you to be our spies. Obviously, that carries a certain degree of risk. If you find yourselves in danger, please, pull out immediately. If it comes to that, we’ll protect you.”
“How exactly?” Setora laughed. “You people are away from Alterna, where it’s safe. I can’t see how you’re going to help us when we need it.”
“We have no intention to oppose the Expeditionary Force. If we can cooperate, that would be best. However, though I called you spies, I don’t expect to have you disrupt the Expeditionary Force from within, or anything like that.”
“What you want is... information, right?”
When Shihoru hesitantly asked that, Shinohara answered immediately.
“That’s correct. Particularly on Jin Mogis’s objectives, and what he intends to do from this point on, in as much detail as you can manage. This is not so that we can fight the Expeditionary Force. If we can get along with them smoothly, that’s the best outcome. I want you to help us with that.”
It didn’t sound like there was any reason to refuse.
Though Haruhiro didn’t have his comrades’ agreement yet, he and his party would likely accept Shinohara’s request. They weren’t going to turn him down.
It’s not bad. I mean, I think it’s the only option.
But something doesn’t feel right.
Why?


5. Between the Front, and the Back, and the Shadows, and the Sky
The sun was about to rise. He hated the way morning came every day. There were plenty of other things he hated, too. More than he could ever count.
The grassy hill was littered with white stones. Under the dim predawn sky, they seemed to glow faintly, almost like some sort of mushrooms.
He’d hated this scene ever since the first time he witnessed it. It was creepy. Sickening. He just couldn’t stand it.
He came to a stop in front of one white stone. It bore a crescent moon emblem and the name of the deceased.
As he looked down at it, a smile crossed his face.
It was not voluntary. Rarely did he want to smile. Yet, still, he was able to. You could almost call it a talent of his.
He kicked the ground with his heel.
Again and again.
He sighed.
He looked up at the sky, scattered with clouds.
At first glance, they seemed still. But they were moving. They never stopped. Their shapes changed, too.
He was smiling, the same as ever.
“This is real,” he mumbled, then lowered his eyes to the white stone once more.
He read the name.
Spoke it out loud.
Over and over.
His smile never broke.
He put his right foot on the stone. Braced his left leg. Pressed hard against the marker. The gravestone was large enough you could wrap your arms around it. It was just a big rock, but it didn’t budge in the slightest.
He moved his right foot.
There was a footprint on the tombstone.
He could look at it with a smile. Not that it was funny. He could smile regardless. Even if he wasn’t happy, even if he wasn’t enjoying himself, he could smile anytime, anywhere.
“Yeah, I don’t really feel anything.” He cocked his head to the side slightly.
He felt nothing.
Was that truly the right way to put it?
“This isn’t real.”
He nodded, then started walking.
He strolled along leisurely, checking the names on each of the gravestones.
“Ahh, so this is where you were.” He came to a stop.
He pronounced the name on the grave marker as clearly as he could.
He crouched, touching the stone with his hand.
He traced the name carved into it with his fingertip.
He was smiling.
“Hey, what do you think? The sky feels so real, but my feelings are removed from reality, you know? Have things gradually become less real? Or was it like this all along? I don’t remember anymore. What was it like, I wonder?”
He wasn’t expecting an answer.
Dead men do not speak. They do not feel. Do not think. Besides, it was dubious whether the owner of the name carved into the tombstone had ever existed at all.
If he were to smash this grave until nothing was left, to erase it completely, the last trace of the dead would be lost.
Some people might say that their memory would remain. However, that “memory” was frail and transient. If something major happened, people would soon forget it. There was no more to it than that.
Obviously, they might recall it again at any time, by chance. But by that point, some memories would be different from what they were before.
Memories were mutable, ever-changing things. They were altered by one’s mood, self-centered interpretation, and what happened around them, being recomposed all the time.
They were like bubbles.
Beautiful bubbles, with a rainbow sheen.
They burst when touched, so it was best not to.
Someone was approaching. He’d long since noticed them. He could have drawn his sword, Beheader. It was a smallish longsword at first glance, but he could bury it in stone with all his might and the blade wouldn’t break. It was a genuine relic. But he didn’t even put a hand on the hilt.
Someone was coming. But who?
They walked with creeping steps, but they hadn’t managed to fully erase their presence. Because of that, he had some idea who it was. That’s why he let her be. She was standing behind him.
“Boo!” she cried, hugging him from behind.
He had the same smile as before on his face, looking at the gravestone, not her.
“...Hmph. Booooring. You’re not surprised at allll.”
“If you want to surprise me, you’ll need to come up with more of a twist.”
“Like thiiiis?”
There was a loud smacking sound as she kissed him on the cheek.
He wasn’t flustered. He didn’t really feel anything from it.
“That didn’t surprise me, but when you put your weight on me like that, it’s a nuisance. Get off, Hiyo.”
“Whuh?! You’re calling me heavyyyy? How can you say that to a young maiden?”
“I’ll kill you,” he told her plainly. He probably wouldn’t actually do it, but he wouldn’t have minded.
“...Scaaaaryyyy. Ooookay then!” Hiyo reluctantly got off him.
He stood up, and started turning to face Hiyo. Midway, another figure entered his vision. Now that caught him by surprise.
He had more or less anticipated that Hiyo would show herself. He’d made a point of stopping by this hill rather than returning straight to Riverside Iron Fortress. Hiyo would come. He’d predicted that. In fact, he’d done it to offer her an invitation.
The tall, thin man was standing five or six meters away from Hiyo and him.
He wore a towering, wide-brimmed hat, making him look even taller than he actually was. But even accounting for that, the man might have been close to two meters tall.
Despite his height, his shoulders were oddly slim, with an extreme slope to them. The cloak he wore was dark, with a hue that was hard to place as red, or blue, or green. Though he carried a white staff, it didn’t seem as if he required a walking stick.
Because he wore his hat low over his eyes, and also had a long, curly beard, it was hard to make out the shape of his face. He was probably human. But he might have been some other race instead. Maybe he wasn’t a living being at all.
The man did not move much. It was unclear if he was even breathing. From here, there was no evidence of any life functions.
“Oh, my.”
He gave the man a slight bow. He never took his eyes off him as he did.
“Sir Unchain. I hadn’t expected you to come out of the Forbidden Tower yourself.”
Sir Unchain’s beard shook, as if trembling. Had he let out a silent laugh?
“Hiyo was a bit surprised too, you know?” Hiyo said with a shrug. “Master said he wanted to talk with you himself, Shinocchi.”
“It’s an honor.” He looked at Hiyo. “But don’t call me that silly name. Not that it upsets me, but it does make me want to shut you up in the fastest way possible.”
“Th-There’s no need to get so aaaangry, is theeere? We’re pals, aren’t we, Shinocchi? Ohh! Sowwie! That was a joke. Just a little friendly kidding around! Shi-Shinohara! Shinohara-san, Shinoharasama! Are we good now? Geez, you just can’t take a joke...!” “Because your jokes aren’t even worth cracking a smile over.”
“No, no, Shinocchi, you’re smiling right now, you know...? Oof! Time out! That one was an accidental mistake! Shi-no-ha-ra!” “Hiyo.” Sir Unchain spoke in a low, husky voice.
“Yesh?!”
Hiyo seemed ready to jump up into the air as she turned to face Sir Unchain, her back ramrod straight.
Sir Unchain swung his right hand, the one he did not hold the staff with, from left to right just once.
“Begone.”
“Yessir!” Hiyo made a gesture that looked like a salute, then turned on her heel and dashed away. For a while, she headed towards Alterna, then made a panicked change of course and headed up the hill.
“I can’t understand why you use her,” Shinohara accidentally let his true feelings slip.
“Heh...” Sir Unchain let out an indistinct utterance.
He shifted his staff up and down slightly. That staff made of animal, or perhaps human, bone was almost certainly a relic.
“Is that not what people are like, in the end?” Shinohara stared at Sir Unchain.
To think that this man — this monster that Shinohara wasn’t even certain breathed — could create a human.
“Ainrand Leslie.”
When Shinohara spoke his name once more, the monster slowly raised his chin. What looked like eyes peered out from beneath the brim of his hat.
Were those eyes? There was no white, nor were there pupils. Just holes. Shinohara looked again. Those weren’t holes. They weren’t eyeballs. Were there some black objects stuck in his eye sockets? They couldn’t be mere glass eyes. Those had to be relics.
“Shinohara.”
“...Yes. What is it?”
“You are one of a select few — a valued comrade.”
Shinohara was not so credulous that he could take the monster’s words at face value. In all the time since he awoke here in Grimgar, he never had been.
“Thank you,” Shinohara smiled.
He was no comrade. He was a tool. A hound, at best.
However, the monster had deemed Shinohara useful. That much was certain.
“I view you as my savior. If I hadn’t met you, I would be no different than a roaming ghost with no goal. But now I have purpose. Thanks to you.”
“If only there were more like you.”
“You tried to bring them in, and failed. Did Hiyo mess up?”
“Something went wrong, or perhaps... some unknown element has brought on an unexpected situation.”
“An unknown element,” Shinohara repeated the words.
He’s talking about her, huh?
“You erased their memories with a relic. Like you’ve always done to us.”
“That is correct.”
“It’s more convenient not to know, not to remember. Or perhaps I should say there are a lot of inconveniences that come with being able to remember.” “Yes. However...” “She did not forget.” Merry.

Chapter end