[344] The Protagonist of One's Life (4)
When the Law was lifted and the tourists returned to human form, they were horrified by their nakedness. Chaos erupted. Women screamed and clutched at themselves; men panicked, scrambling to find somewhere to hide. Shirone and his party managed to shepherd everyone to the inn by asking for help from people outside the city walls.
Shirone sat on the railing of the café terrace and watched tourists crammed into every building.
Some threatened to sue the Tourism Bureau, while others shouted for the manager to be brought out.
They had all encountered a heavenly being. No one could predict what ripple effects today's incident might cause.
Shirone glanced back at Gangnan. She faced the tourists too, but her expression was lost in thought.
"What do we do now? Try to calm them down?"
"Is that necessary?"
"Huh?"
"We don't have to bother with petty things. People from the Association will come. They'll take care of it."
"But if time passes, it'll be harder to clean up. What if rumors spread?"
Gangnan had seen this before. Whenever information about Heaven leaked out it looked as if utter chaos would follow—but in truth, nothing would happen.
People would still worry about what to eat today, toss and turn over tomorrow's important contract, and fret about how to raise their growing children.
Gangnan looked at Jokre's group. They clung close despite having received no explicit orders.
They understood too—that this wasn't something they could handle.
To Gangnan, it was merely a nuisance.
"The Association will decide your fate. So don't follow us. Go. If you want to run, run."
Jokre's group bowed their heads sullenly.
They knew what it meant to have the Association as an enemy. Even if imprisoned, as long as they belonged to the Red Line their mage certification wouldn't be revoked. But the moment they ran, their only option would be the Black Line. In the world of the mad, Jokre's group had no means to survive.
"All right. We're sorry. We'll turn ourselves in when Association people arrive."
Amy watched Jokre's group go in silence. Their time to share a life had ended. No matter what happened to them, they'd have to keep living and fight to become the protagonists of their own lives.
After some follow-up was arranged, Gangnan prepared to leave. Before she spoke, she fixed her gaze on Shirone.
With the Diamond Armor removed, she looked far younger than he had expected. Of course, he wasn't so foolish as to judge by looks alone.
Still, he thought those features might cause problems once she entered the Association.
Gaold's offer had been audacious.
"Shirone. We need to leave now. I'll wait at the carriage—finish up and come with me."
"All right. I'll be right there."
Shirone planned to follow Gangnan to the Mage Association. Confronting Gaold was a rare opportunity, and he was curious about Miro's situation.
'I'll probably meet Rian in the capital. Tess, too.'
He slung his backpack on and approached Amy.
"Sorry. It turned out like this."
He felt ashamed facing Amy. He'd wanted them to enjoy a proper vacation this time, but once again he'd dragged her into danger.
"I'm telling you—I'm never traveling with you again."
"Ha! I'm really sorry. I don't even have words."
Amy laughed and shook her head with a smile.
"Thanks, Shirone. Because of you I've got more confidence. I think I can give it my all again."
Shirone felt it too. Not only the skill she'd used to subdue Jokre's group, but the ultra-high-temperature Inferno—an ability hard to achieve at her age unless it was Amy.
He'd realized that during the fight, but didn't press her about it. A hundred people yield a hundred revelations; Amy's style couldn't be copied. Someday they'd have a quiet chat about it.
"I'll contact you when I return. And Dante, thanks for watching over her. Please take care of Amy."
Dante shrugged. He'd suddenly become the escort for his rival's girlfriend, but it wasn't all loss. Between Heaven and Miro's space-time, Shirone and Amy seemed to have some inkling of things. There'd be plenty of time on the road, so Dante planned to ask about Heaven.
"I don't know what this is about, but come back safe."
"All right. See you at school."
After Shirone left, Dante and Amy headed to the exit. On the way out, Dante pointed at the café.
"One cup of coffee before we go? Of course you'll pay."
"How far do you plan to leech off me! You buy something for once! You have plenty of money!"
"Oh ho. Escorting you home merits at least a coffee… huh?"
Dante sensed someone and turned. Liria stood there with a large backpack, just as he'd first seen her.
She'd sealed the Law and now had to return to the Akeanis Shrine to report. After today she probably wouldn't see Dante again. Mages and magi walked different paths from the start.
Still, Liria felt regret. If she hadn't met Dante the mission might have failed. It was hard to imagine a wandering magus forming attachments, but she'd relied on him in many ways and couldn't cut herself free cleanly.
"I'll buy the coffee."
"Hmm."
Dante read Liria's feelings in her eyes. She truly couldn't hide her emotions. He wasn't one to chase romance aggressively, nor to turn someone away; he put an arm around her shoulder and pointed somewhere.
"All right. Forget the coffee. Shall we find somewhere quiet?"
Liria's face flushed at the place he indicated. There, brazenly, hung a sign for an inn.
To naive Liria, Dante's instant-pickup approach to love was shocking.
"W-what are you saying…?"
"Ha! No need to pretend. We're old enough to know how this works. Don't waste time."
Liria groaned. She might tolerate his self-centeredness, but womanizing was another matter.
"You cad! Let go!"
When she pushed him off, Dante stepped back calmly.
"Womanizer? What did I do to already be a womanizer?"
"That's it! I've lost my mind! Forget it—I'm going back to the shrine!"
Dante snorted. If their ties ended here, there was no reason to force her to stay.
"All right. Take care."
'Insensitive jerk…'
When Dante really let her go, Liria felt a sting. But she didn't look back. If she did, she feared she wouldn't be able to walk away.
"Write if anything interesting happens!"
At Dante's voice from a distance, Liria blinked and let out a small laugh.
Aerhain Dante. Age 18.
Second-ranked hopeful mage in the Tormia Kingdom.
'Heh. I'll remember that.'
Watching Liria stride toward the horizon with a bright expression, Dante and Amy headed back to the exit.
Just as they were about to leave the all-too-familiar ruined castle, Jokre's group waited by the gate.
They wore surprisingly confident faces. They couldn't hide all fear, but they refused to show weakness.
Vivian approached Amy.
"Sorry."
Amy waved a hand. This hadn't been kid's play. The situation's fairness had been restored by their arrest.
"It's fine. You and I both fought according to our beliefs. You don't need to apologize just because you lost."
"No. It's because you saved me at the end. If you'd died then, there'd be no next time."
"Well…"
Amy turned awkwardly. Frankly, her action hadn't been solely for Vivian. It had been to successfully execute the Okwangbakyojin, and the shout at the end was something she'd wanted to say to herself.
"I don't know why you said what you did, but work hard. Pass the next graduation exam and become a mage. You deserve to be the protagonist."
Amy was moved. Cruel as it sounded, words from a loser gave her more confidence than any consolation she'd ever heard.
Vivian slumped and returned to her friends. Amy watched the defeated group for a moment, then spoke.
"Hey."
When Vivian turned, Amy unbuckled a shoulder strap and rummaged through her bag.
"Here. Take this."
Amy pressed the Ice Queen doll she'd won at a mini-game stall into Vivian's hands. Vivian stared at it for a long time, hands trembling. In a life where no one had paid attention to her, the Ice Queen's face—smiling with childlike purity—had been the only thing that comforted her.
"Sob… sniff."
Vivian burst into tears and hugged the doll to her chest. Jokre came up and patted her back. After glancing at Amy, he led Vivian away.
Amy watched them go for a long time. People would keep fighting in their own lives. Maybe someday they, too, would have their day to be protagonists.
'Yeah. I only failed once. If this is my life, I'll fight and win as many times as it takes.'
Amy clenched her fist and turned. Her stride toward Dante was surer than the day before.
Divine Transcendence (1)
The Kaizen Swordsmanship School in the capital Vashka.
Kuan, now a certified Rank-6 swordsman and once called the Death Magician before injuring his Achilles tendon, was fighting a nightmare from a past he could never return to.
Born into a military family, Kuan lost his entire family on the battlefield when he was six. His uncle took him in but stole the estate and sent him to a remote sword school.
Still, he harbored no resentment.
He had nowhere to rely on, but by the age of twenty he'd shown such genius that he became a certified Rank-6 swordsman.
The nightmare began with an incident ten years earlier.
When he was twenty-one, newly appointed as second company commander of the search battalion to capture Kointra, founder of the Dark Order, trouble started.
The soldiers didn't welcome Kuan. It was natural—a twenty-one-year-old rookie transferred into a veteran company with an average age of thirty-eight.
Kuan didn't care. To him, as commander, soldiers were consumables necessary to win wars.
Without even greeting the men, Kuan led his troops into the Ghost Forest as soon as he arrived.
Countless search units had entered before, and without exception their communications had been cut off.
The previous, frightened company commander had returned home on sick leave, prompting Kuan's emergency deployment.
But Kuan was confident.
Even if ghosts truly haunted the forest, nothing in the world was beyond his blade.
'I'll take care of them. Whatever you call ghosts.'
The first day passed without incident.
But after the second company finished camp and began preparing at dawn, something happened.
"Ambush! We're under attack!"
The sentry's cry abruptly cut off. Realizing the enemy had already broken through, Kuan gripped his sword and stepped outside the barracks.
The other men, armed and alert, stood ready against an enemy pressing in through the gray dawn.
A fierce wind seemed to blow—no, there was no actual wind. The sound was only in everyone's ears. Reflexively, Kuan slashed into the darkness, but his blade struck nothing.