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Two of the crossbow gobs took aim at Haruhiro. He got down just as the bolts flew towards him. The projectiles sailed by, way over his head. They were followed immediately by another two. The bolts, fired from below, stood no chance of hitting Haruhiro on the terrace.
The crossbow gobs were shouting. Judging by the sounds they made, a number of goblins had raced back into the ruin. They were climbing the stairs, intending to attack Haruhiro up on the terrace.
Haruhiro bounced to his feet, and immediately threw himself from the terrace. There were three crossbow gobs down below. Was the other one inside the ruins with the other goblins?
Landing, he closed in on a crossbow gob. It looked awfully surprised. When he got in position to tackle it, the goblin didn’t spin its crossbow around, but held it forward, trying to shield itself. It was absolutely terrified, and ready to run away.
Haruhiro didn’t tackle it; he instead grabbed the crossbow with his left hand. The crossbow gob reflexively pulled the crossbow closer, trying to stop him from seizing it. When Haruhiro let go, the crossbow gob pitched forward. Now off balance, the crossbow gob’s back was exposed, and he was able to plant a dagger in it effortlessly.
For whatever reason, he knew which stabs would be lethal, just what angle to strike at, and how deep, as if it were second nature to him. That seemed messed up, even to him, but it did make things easier.
There were two crossbow gobs left. One was fleeing into the ruin. The other threw its crossbow at him. He dodged the incoming weapon, then closed in on the goblin.
Striking the crossbow gob in the jaw with the palm of his hand, he swept its legs from under it with a trip. A slash to the throat left the goblin unable to breathe. Blood flowed from its carotid artery. Now, only death awaited.
He jumped into the ruin, and the crossbow gob that fled was there facing away from him. He pounced on it, and thrust his dagger through a vital point in its back.
Only one crossbow gob to go. The other four goblins had been halfway up the stairs, chasing him. They turned around. Screeched loudly. They were pretty badly panicked. They were afraid of Haruhiro.
Of course they were. He was soaked head to toe in goblin blood. He may have done this out of necessity, but the goblins weren’t going to believe that. A human mass murderer showed up, and was killing their comrades one after another. In the goblin’s eyes, Haruhiro must have been a monster.
He’d be lying if he said that didn’t hurt a little. But he couldn’t let up on them. Haruhiro pursued the crossbow gob. Its legs must have given out, because it collapsed when it got to the landing.
“...Damn it.”
Haruhiro snatched its crossbow, and kicked it in the butt.
“Leave us alone. You guys don’t want to die, either, do you?”
No matter what he said, they wouldn’t understand. But though they didn’t speak his language, he still hoped that the threat would work.
Still holding the crossbow, Haruhiro turned his back to the crossbow gob.
The crossbow gob didn’t move. The other goblins up top were staying put, too.
When he reached the exit, Haruhiro turned back to look at them. The crossbow gob and the other goblins looked at him. They were all trembling.
Haruhiro tossed the crossbow to the floor, and the goblins all jumped. He’d probably intimidated them enough. He hoped so. If he hadn’t, he was going to have to kill more. He wanted to avoid that, as much as possible.
“...Not that I’m in any position to be saying I don’t want to kill after everything I’ve done.”
Haruhiro left the ruin. He moved away, and watched from a short distance. The goblins weren’t coming out yet. He didn’t see goblins on the second floor terrace, either. Did they think he was outside, waiting to ambush them?
“Did I overdo it...?”
Haruhiro hurried back to his comrades. He could tell they had already settled things on their end, too.
It looked like everyone was okay. More than ten goblins lay dead. Most of them had been carved up with Kuzaku’s large katana.
“Good work, man,” said Kuzaku. He was acting awfully cheerful and casual about all this, considering he was bloodier than Haruhiro. It was kind of deflating.
“Well, I don’t know if I’d call it good work.”
“The Old City gobs just can’t put up a proper fight. Maybe I’m too strong?”
“Don’t get cocky, you fool.” Setora jabbed Kuzaku in the shoulder.
“Nah, I was kidding, okay?”
“If you’re joking, then make it sound like a joke.”
“He’s such a silly billy, isn’t he?” Hiyomu piped up. Kuzaku looked hurt.
“I don’t want to hear that from you...”
Neal was smiling faintly. It looked like he wanted to agree. Even if his position meant that he had to be considerate of Hiyomu’s feelings, he had to be fed up with her.
“How did you do?” Merry asked Haruhiro. Haruhiro nodded reflexively, but he didn’t want to go into it.
“...I eliminated what I assume was their leader. Let’s move on.”
“Kiichi!”
When Setora called his name, Kiichi nimbly jumped down from the top of the ruined building.
Haruhiro took a deep breath. He needed to get serious again. He’d driven off the gang that the helmet gob was leading. But that was all. Other groups might still attack them.
Merry came over to him. He thought she might ask, “Are you okay?” If she did, he’d have to say that, obviously, he was. But that wasn’t it.
Merry grabbed Haruhiro’s left hand, and checked his wrist.
“The magic’s worn off.”
“...Oh. Yeah, it has.”
Merry had cast the God of Light Lumiaris’s support magic spells Protection and Assist with Haruhiro, Kuzaku, Setora, and herself, along with Hiyomu and Neal, as the six targets. Once cast, the effect had a duration of around thirty minutes, so Merry would recast it before then.
The two hexagrams of different colors were still shining on Merry’s left wrist. It looked like Kuzaku and the rest had them, too.
Apparently, the magic had worn off because Haruhiro strayed too far from Merry.
“I’ll recast it.”
Merry was still holding Haruhiro’s wrist as she made the sign of the hexagram with the fingers of her opposite hand.
“O Light, may Lumiaris’s divine protection be upon you... Protection. —Assist.”
Two hexagrams lit up on Haruhiro’s wrist as he watched.
Instantly, his body and heart felt lighter. He hadn’t known Merry’s magic affected the heart, too.
“Thanks.”
“Think nothing of it.” Merry smiled.
Huh? Haruhiro thought suspiciously. What is this? My chest feels weird.
It hurts.
It wasn’t cold, but he had goosebumps. There was a rustling in the back of his neck. His throat seized up, and he couldn’t speak.
“What’s wrong?” Merry cocked her head to the side.
No, it’s nothing, he wanted to say, but his mouth just flapped futilely, failing to form words.
“Ah!” Merry let go of Haruhiro’s wrist, and lowered her head. Her cheeks were flushed. Her ears were red. “Sorry,” Merry apologized in a small voice, pulling her own hair. “I was just... just checking. That’s all. Really.”
“...Yeah.”
Haruhiro lowered his eyes, too. Merry was rushing her words out, as if she were making excuses, but why? Honestly, he didn’t know. It wasn’t just Merry, either. He was pretty flustered, too. Why was he panicking like this?
He couldn’t get her shy expression out of his head. Of course not. She was right in front of his eyes. If he raised his eyes even a little, he could see it all he wanted.
But I can’t look.
My heart’s racing like crazy.
This is bad, isn’t it? This state I’m in. I need to settle down. If I don’t clear my head, we can’t move forward.
What’s happened to me?
Somebody, please tell me.
Not that I could ever ask.


 
8. The Experienced and Dangerous Maiden of Twilight
Haruhiro was a wall.
Metaphorically, of course. Was he a ceiling, a window, a pillar, or a wall? He felt like he was kind of a wall, but not a literal wall. The actual wall here was the one he was pressed up against, holding his breath.
Though, speaking of the wall, it wasn’t a wooden wall, a stonework wall, or even a dirt wall. No, not exactly a dirt wall, that was clear, but it was likely made of earthen material. Did they use some special dirt? Or mix something into it? It was thick with moss, and pretty hard, too. He’d tried poking it with his dagger, but it couldn’t penetrate it very well, so it might have been fair to say it was really hard. Nearly as hard as rock, at least.
This wall, which separated the Old City of Damuro from the New City, was only four to five meters high, but lacked the uneven surface of a stonework wall, making it difficult to climb. Though, if he had a ladder, or some other tools, that would be another story. However, there were spots where the wall bulged up, and in those spots it had a number of holes. Those were obviously watchtowers. He wasn’t sure if it was at all times, but there were presumably goblins stationed in there. On top of that, there were armed goblins walking along the top of the wall, too. If he tried to scale it, he’d be found instantly, for sure.
There were places where it looked possible to enter or exit.
Haruhiro had personally spotted three wooden, steel-framed gates that had been placed in holes dug out of the wall.
However, there were always a large number of goblins at each gate, and it was clear they were guarding them. If they were going to enter through the gates, it would have to be with brute force. That might not be impossible, but it was like stirring up a hornets’ nest. Probably not the best idea.
His comrades were waiting nearby in one of the relatively intact ruins in the Old City. Haruhiro and Neal had split off to scout a little after noon, and it was already dusk now.
Haruhiro was still unable to find a way to infiltrate the New City.
Because of the low wall, escape should be easy. Entering without being detected, on the other hand, would be incredibly difficult.
Wasn’t that the same for the goblins? If they left the New City and fell to become Old City goblins, there was practically no way for them to go back. In their trainee days, Haruhiro and other volunteer soldiers like him had gone around massacring those goblins to make ends meet. He was still sorting out his feelings about that.
Setting that aside, he wanted to see what would happen once it was dark out. That was why Haruhiro had become one with the wall, and now waited for sundown.
Even as he did so, there were goblins walking above him, but he had not been discovered. It wasn’t that the lookout goblins were especially inattentive, this was just how things went when a thief became a wall.
Eventually, the sun set.
The area grew darker by the moment.
Light began to leak from the watchtowers. They must have lit fires inside. The goblins patrolling the walls above were carrying torches, or something similar, too.
Haruhiro moved away from the wall for a while, broadly surveilling the New City from the Old City. The watchtowers were generally placed about thirty to forty meters apart. There weren’t too many goblins patrolling, but it wasn’t a small number, either. At a glance, it looked like there was one maybe every fifty meters or so. No, not one. It looked like there were two goblins to a patrol. That hadn’t been the case when it was bright out. Did it change after dark?
He saw the patrols stopping, then turning their torches towards the Old City. They were taking their work more seriously than he had expected.
“...This is rough.”
If Haruhiro were alone, it wouldn’t be impossible for him to infiltrate the New City. He would wait for there to be no goblin patrol nearby, then speedily climb over the wall at the midpoint between two of the watchtowers. He’d probably need some sort of tools. A ladder, or maybe a platform.
However, once he climbed up, he’d be leaving that tool in the Old City. His tool needed to be set up, and then taken down. He needed someone’s help. Did that mean he couldn’t do it alone after all?
Haruhiro headed for the ruin where his comrades were waiting. Neal had already made it back when he arrived. The rest of the group was sitting in a circle around a hooded lamp that had been placed on the ground.
“This is hopeless.”
Much as he hated to, Haruhiro had to agree with Neal.
“I think we should give up on getting everyone into the New City. If we go, it should be a small number of us. They’ll need help, too. It would be easiest with a ladder, but if Kuzaku were to give me a boost, I might be able to get over the wall.”
“There’s no if we go,” Hiyomu said, clicking her tongue. “We have to go, we have no other choice. So we’re going. Do you people stiiiill not understand that? If you don’t, aren’t you unbelievably stupid?” Nobody said a word.
Obviously, Haruhiro was ticked off. Everyone had to be. But reacting to everything Hiyomu said was just exhausting.
“Honestly, you people are just beyond help...”
Hiyomu rubbed her hip as she grumbled. Haruhiro and his group had shoulder bags packed with portable rations, water skins, and more. But Hiyomu had packed awfully light, with only a single small pouch wrapped around her hip.
She produced a folded piece of paper from that pouch, and spread it out close to the lamp.
“A map?” Setora whispered.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Hiyomu glared at Setora. Maybe it wasn’t so much that her personality had suddenly gotten worse, but more that she was irritated? Merry leaned in and looked at the map.
“Is this... the New City?”
“Hmm.” Kuzaku squinted at it, cocking his head to the side. “It’s hard to see.”
“Then don’t look. You’re soooo annoying, you dolt.” Hiyomu sighed. “You see this? This is the one and only map of the New City of Damuro in existence, okay? Try being a little more grateful, even if all you have is your size, and you can’t even use it properly. You pervert with a premature ejaculation problem.”
“Wasn’t that a little uncalled for...?”
“If you don’t want the abuse, why don’t you zip your lips?”
“Right, I’ll shut up now.”
“Please do.”
“You kind of piss me off, you know that?”
“Weren’t you going to shut up?”
“I will now!”
Are you children?
Haruhiro looked down at the map. It was true that it wasn’t easy to read. The paper itself was old and worn, and the lines and text were faded. But on top of that, the scale was arbitrary. There were probably considerable shortcuts taken, and it was deformed in various ways. He suspected it was imprecise, and mainly focused on the relative positions of landmarks.
“It was maybe... twenty years ago now?” Hiyomu mumbled.
“Twenty years...” Merry said quietly. Hiyomu ignored her and continued.
“There was a great party that planned to capture the New City of Damuro. The Old City, as you know, is newbie-friendly gob hunting grounds, but the New City is pristine territory for volunteer soldiers. If there was such a wonderful new frontier so close to where you lived, you’d have to be cowardly, but at the same time unfeeling, to never even try to challenge it. So... that incredible party brilliantly infiltrated the New City, and they made this map.”
Haruhiro glanced at Hiyomu with upturned eyes. Hiyomu was staring intently at the map. She seemed awfully concerned with the creases in it. Hiyomu traced the folds with her fingers, again and again.
“Obviously, a lot will have changed since then. It’s been twenty years, after all. Not a short time, by any means. That great party set up five bases inside the New City, and traveled between them as they explored, but...”
Hiyomu’s index finger moved across the surface of the map, pointing to a star shape. There were four other stars, too. Five in total.
“Who knows, really? Maybe we’ll be lucky if even one of them is left?”
Setora pointed to the mountain-like figure in roughly the middle of the map.
“What is this?”
Hiyomu glanced at Setora.
“Ahsvasin. Translated into human language, that would be, ‘the Highest Heaven.’ The Mogado is in the Highest Heaven. Mogado, by the way, is what goblins call their king. So, basically, the Highest Heaven is a castle.”
“I see.” Setora tapped an area in the bottom left of the map that had been blotted out. “Then what is this?”
“Ohdongo.”
When Hiyomu answered her, Kuzaku cocked his head to the side. “...Oh, don’t go?”
Haruhiro pressed a hand to his forehead and sighed. “Come on, man...”
“Nah, I kinda knew, okay? I knew it wasn’t that. But that’s what it sounded like to me.”
“The gobs speak a vulgar language, full of guttural sounds, after all.”
Hiyomu said, frowning, then snorted. “Ohdongo. It means ‘the Deepest Valley.’ It’s where the ugoths are said to live. The ugoths are, well... like sages? They’re goblin intellectuals.”
It went without saying, humans and goblins were different. They were bipedal. They were dexterous, and could use tools with their hands. They were social creatures. But despite these points of commonality, they were a completely different race.
Goblins were still a few ranks below humans. Haruhiro must not have been the only human who saw them that way. Hiyomu had called their language vulgar, after all. Humans naturally, without even questioning it, looked down on goblins.
“Now, you people wouldn’t know this, not even volunteer soldiers like Soma do, but the ugoths can speak the human language.” Haruhiro’s eyes widened.
“...The human language?”
“That’s right.” Hiyomu laughed derisively at Haruhiro. “Come on, think about it. When the remnants of the Kingdom of Arabakia fled south of the Tenryu Mountains and Damuro became goblin territory, that was maybe around a hundred and forty years ago. Then the NoLife King died, despite allegedly being undying, or whatever it was that happened, a hundred, well, maybe a hundred and five years ago. The Kingdom of Arabakia started looking to make a comeback.”
“They built Alterna...” Merry mumbled to herself, and Setora furrowed her brow, scratching Kiichi’s throat as she did.
“How? Damuro is about a stone’s throw from Alterna. The goblins would have seen humans from the Kingdom of Arabakia as enemies, wouldn’t they?”
Kuzaku crossed his arms and groaned.
“You’d think they’d have tried to get in the way. It’d be impossible if you didn’t take the goblins out first, wouldn’t it?”
“Hah!” Hiyomu laughed. “That’s just what a musclehead would think.”
“Yeah, I know I’m just a musclehead...” Kuzaku moped.
Don’t accept it. Haruhiro thought, but set it aside to think about the Alterna problem.
“...The ugoths. There are goblins that speak the human language. The humans built Alterna without interference... They avoided fighting? Because the humans and the goblins came to an agreement...?”
“They must have stood to benefit,” Setora said in a low voice. “And if the goblins gained something from not attacking the humans, the natural assumption would be that the humans gave them something in exchange.”
“This is going nowhere, since you’re all idiots. Let me help you out.” Hiyomu smirked at Setora, then thrust her hand into the pouch at her hip.
“Huh...?!”
Kuzaku’s eyes bugged out. Haruhiro was shocked, too.
He recognized the knife that came out of Hiyomu’s pouch. It was that knife. The one carried by the leader of the goblins once occupying Alterna, Viceroy Bogg. The whole thing was made of red metal. Bogg’s red knife had easily slit the throat of Dylan Stone, the commander of the raid team.
However, though he called it a knife, the blade was close to three centimeters across, and it had a solid handguard on it. If you included the pommel, the thing had to be a good forty-five centimeters long.
Would it fit? That knife? In the pouch at Hiyomu’s waist? Haruhiro wondered. Maybe it wouldn’t be impossible to stuff it in. But it was hard to imagine it fitting comfortably.
“That pouch...” Merry asked with a cautious look on her face, and Hiyomu patted the pouch with a look of realization.
“Ahh, obviously, this is a relic from my master, too. The ridiculous storage capacity this thing has is super convenient. Jealous? Well, I won’t give it to you, lend it to you, or even let you touch it for just a moment. Got it? Lay a finger on it, and you’re seriously dead, okay?”
“Relics sure are awesome, huh...?” Kuzaku was visibly impressed. What a straightforward guy.
“So awesome it’s hilarious.” Hiyomu sounded as full of herself as ever. “Just so we’re clear, this knife isn’t a relic, okay?”
“It’s simply made of a rare metal, then?”
When Setora asked, Hiyomu swung the knife and nodded.
“Looks like it. Long ago in the Kingdom of Arabakia, they called this hi’irogane. Don’t know what it’s made from, but if you smelt several metals mined in the Tenryu Mountains, it produces this sort of red alloy.”
“It sure is pretty, though.” Kuzaku nodded. “It really stands out, huh? So, the Kingdom of Arabakia made this... What was it? Hero’s cane?”
“Hi’irogane.”
When Haruhiro corrected him, Kuzaku scratched his head.
“Right, right. Hi’irogane, hi’irogane. That’s, what? Fire-colored? So, metal that’s scarlet, huh?”
“They...” Setora’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Gave it to the goblins?”
“The other theory is that it was hidden in Damuro all along.” Hiyomu spun the knife around and played with it. It didn’t look dangerous. She was used to it. “They may have just told the gobs where it was. But either way, the rare and valuable hi’irogane that was only found in Damuro all fell into the hands of the goblins.”
“Hmm...”
Kuzaku had a “So what?” look on his face. Hiyomu scoffed at him. “You people, with your lack of imagination, might not get it, but this was a stupidly huge deal to the goblins. They’re an inferior race. And let me be clear, that’s not my personal view. There were many races, not just humans, that looked down on the goblins. The elves, the dwarves, and even the orcs and kobolds saw the goblins as mere animals. Though, even now that may not have changed much. I mean, they only beat out monkeys by a hair. Oh, but the gobs have smooth skin, so maybe it’s weird to say they beat them by a hair when they’re less hairy? Well, it’s just a metaphor.”
Those goblins had a monopoly on the valuable, limited supply of hi’irogane. This fact must have been far more important to the goblins than Haruhiro estimated.
Kuzaku punched his fist into his palm.
“Oh, I get it! That’s why only the important goblins were using weapons and armor made from hi’irogane. It’s a symbol of power? Or something...?”
“Well done.” Hiyomu’s beaming smile was creepy. “Do you want a pat on the head?”
“No, thanks...”
“When you say it like that, I just want to pat you more. Nuffuhuhuh.”
“Fine, go ahead and try it then.”
“Okaaaay.” Hiyomu reached out and patted Kuzaku on the head. “Patty, patty, patty, patty.”
“Cut it out!”
When Kuzaku brushed her hand away, Hiyomu grinned. If it wasn’t apparent by this point, her personality was so rotten it was scary.
“I see, that makes sense.” It was scary how calm Setora was, too. “Our card in the negotiations is hi’irogane, huh? We return the hi’irogane equipment we scavenged from the goblins in Alterna. In exchange, they work with us. Isn’t that a little weak?” Hiyomu thumped her chest with one hand.
“I’m the one in charge of negotiating. You people don’t need to think about it. You just do your jobs, and you’re good. Our goal is infiltrating the New City. Then to make contact with an ugoth we can talk to.”
Haruhiro pointed to the blacked-out section of the map.
“Ohdongo. The Deepest Valley. ...Is this the only place where there are ugoths?”
Hiyomu shook her head.
“There’s a number at Ahsvasin, too. They seem to serve the Mogado as advisors.”
Merry lowered her eyes.
“We have no choice but to find a way inside one of those two places...”
Kuzaku groaned and cocked his head to the side.
“Can’t we just waltz in, brandishing that hi’irogane knife? Even the lowest gobs know what it is, right? Won’t they be like, ‘Oh, that human’s got hi’irogane! Call an important person, wait, no, an important gob!’?”
“If you ask Hiyo...”
Hiyomu started referring to herself as Hiyo. Wasn’t she Hiyomu? Did it matter?
“I’d bet on, ‘It’s hi’irogane! Everyone take it back! Chaaaarge!’ instead. You haaaave to remember that no matter what we say, they can’t understand it. The gobs are our enemies. If we run into anything but an ugoth, it’s gonna be a fight to the death. That’s what we have to assume.”
“That’s why this was crazy to start with. Making an alliance with gobs...” Kuzaku muttered.
Hiyo glared at Kuzaku. She opened her mouth to say something, but just snorted instead.
Hiyo wasn’t optimistic about this, by any means. That might have been what that meant. Or, perhaps, her master, the one who controlled the Forbidden Tower, was moving out of necessity.
“Even if it’s crazy, or whatever else it is, we’re doing it.” Hiyo kept biting and licking her lips. “Master gave the order believing Hiyo could do it. It wasn’t an, ‘It’s okay if you mess it up,’ sort of thing. There’s a chance of success. A huge one. Anyway, we just need to meet an ugoth... If we can’t all make it into the New City, then...”
She had no choice. Neither did Haruhiro. It was almost certain that General Jin Mogis was keeping Shihoru in his custody. If the group didn’t show results, the general would probably hurt her.
“...I can get into the New City. If Kuzaku helps, I probably don’t need any tools.”
“It wouldn’t be impossible for me to go, too,” Neal, who had been quiet all this time, sounded unenthused about the prospect.
“It would be for me,” Setora said, “but I’m sure Kiichi could go. A nyaa might prove more useful than a human.”
Haruhiro looked at Hiyo. Hiyo returned his glance with a sharp look that seemed to say, What? What is it? Do you want to die, punk?
“...That works. Hiyo can go, too. I’ve been a thief before, after all.”
“Oh... You have?”
“I started as a paladin, had a brief stint as a thief, and ended up as a warrior. What of it?”

Chapter end