Chapter 208 - The Romanticist (3)

A boundless sea stretched before them.

Merlin called that vast expanse a “lake,” but Najin thought she had chosen the wrong word. No one would call waters rolling beyond the horizon a lake.

“What do you mean, no one? We called it a lake in my day.”

'How big is it?'

“Who knows? Probably about the size of the Empire.”

Najin gave up trying to understand.

After all, where were they? The Outer Lands, where common sense meant nothing. He knew it was better to accept things here and move on rather than try to understand them.

So they had to cross this thing...

Merlin was telling him they needed to cross this sea to find that damned witch. Given how confidently she spoke, this had to be the right way, but that did not mean he could readily take the first step.

How in the world were they supposed to cross it?

If it were an ordinary sea, he might have tried swimming. But this was a sea in the Outer Lands, tens of thousands of years removed from anything ordinary. Whirlpools churned, lightning struck, and enormous monsters that belonged in the ocean depths swam on the surface. It was a truly hellish place.

“Star-eating beasts.”

Even Anton Quijano, a transcendent being, seemed little better off. He too wore a daunted expression as he looked out over the sea.

“Every monster swimming on that surface is a star-eating beast. You've seen the sky whales floating overhead, haven't you? You know, the ones the Sky-Drifting Star rides.”

“A few times.”

“Those things are something like their ancestors.”

Anton pointed at the monsters drifting on the surface. Each had a peculiar appearance, enough to turn one's stomach merely to describe it.

'Can you call something with hundreds of tentacles a whale?'

Whatever the case, Najin sighed and loosened up.

“Whether she's on the other side of that sea or somewhere in the middle, this does seem to be the right direction.”

“Do you have reason to be sure?”

“My inner guide says so.”

“I'm hardly one to talk, being called a lunatic myself, but I have to ask. Are you sure you aren't mentally ill?”

“I sometimes hear a voice inside me, and someone whispers in my ear, but I'm not mentally ill.”

“Oh dear. That's even more worrying.”

Despite his words, he showed no sign of unease. Anton followed Najin's example and loosened up, then began uprooting trees and grass nearby.

“What are you doing?”

“What does it look like? We'll need to build a boat first if we're going to cross that sea. Don't tell me you planned to cross it with nothing but your own body?”

“You know how to build a boat?”

“Look, didn't I tell you I've wandered the Outer Lands for four hundred years? I've crossed a few of its famous great lakes, though none quite like that. Give me a hand.”

Following Anton's instructions, Najin began splitting wood. One transcendent being, and one human who was not transcendent but could match one. Once the two set to work in earnest, the boat was finished in no time.

“Let's launch her, then. Have you got your oar ready, guide?”

Najin raised a plank he had carved into a plausible shape. Anton clucked his tongue and shook his head.

“You can't possibly channel mana into a wooden plank like that. What else are you going to use that thing on your back for?”

“This is a spear. Not an oar.”

“Depends how you use it. Nice and broad. Looks perfect for rowing.”

With a dubious expression, Najin unstrapped his spear. He had never imagined using it for something like this.

SPLASH.

They launched the boat and climbed aboard. With everything ready for departure, Najin suddenly looked at Anton before beginning to row. His complete lack of hesitation struck Najin as rather strange.

“It feels a little odd to ask when I'm the one who pointed us this way, but aren't you worried?”

“Worried? About what?”

“I'm certain this is the right direction, but I don't have any real evidence. What will you do if I'm wrong?”

“Well, if you're wrong, you're wrong.”

Anton shrugged.

“I've spent four hundred years searching for her. I've scoured every sort of place in the Outer Lands and never found her. I've risked my life for the slightest possibility... Why shouldn't I believe you? If you're right, wonderful. If not, that's a shame.”

He seemed to mean it. His expression was little different from when they had first met. With a cheerful smile, he gave Najin a hearty slap on the back.

“And isn't it all experience? I'll have one more story to tell her when we meet again. Hey, guide. No, now that we're aboard, I suppose I should call you navigator.”

Anton walked past Najin and planted a foot on the bow. Leaning forward slightly, he pointed out across the distant sea and shouted.

“Onward, navigator! Row! The sea awaits us!”

He could not have looked more cheerful.

Watching Anton bellow like a captain from a stage play, Najin let out a chuckle.

“That's the wrong direction.”

2.

Waves slapped against the bow as Najin rowed vigorously. With each stroke of the mana-clad oar, the boat cut through the water and advanced.

'Krünbel would be horrified if he saw this.'

Najin thought this as he looked at the cross-star spear being used as an oar. Its former owner, Krünbel, would probably clutch the back of his neck at the sight. Still, wasn't it all a matter of perspective?

Wasn't the cross-star spear meant to clear a path?

Since it was ultimately being used to move forward, he was not entirely misusing it. Najin rowed with that thought in mind. Beside him, Anton was also rowing with his own spear-like weapon.

A boundless sea. One little sailboat.

And two oarsmen.

With those two oarsmen doubling as navigator, guide, captain, and first mate, it was a thoroughly haphazard voyage. Even so, the boat pressed vigorously onward, cutting through the perilous waters of the Outer Lands.

SPLASH!

Sailing in a small boat was said to be a lonely, tedious affair, but Najin had no chance to feel either lonely or bored.

“She had big breasts.”

That was because the captain sharing his boat would not stop talking. Anton chattered excitedly, apparently convinced that every stroke of an oar through water required a corresponding stroke of his tongue through the air.

“Her breasts were big.”

Was that important enough to say twice?

Anton spoke in a deeply serious voice.

“I love everything about Lapis, but her looks were one thing I loved just a little more. Honestly, I don't think there's anyone in this world more beautiful than her.”

“You fell for her because of her looks?”

“Not just her looks, mind you. Combine them with a personality that wasn't merely passionate but downright fiery, and her appeal was simply indescribable. Imagine it. Someone who looks like a delicate young noblewoman, then opens her mouth and lets fly with curses that would shock even the mercenaries in a tavern.”

“It was the best,” Anton murmured.

“Pale violet hair. Slender white fingers. But perhaps it was because she gripped her staff so tightly? Every joint of her fingers was callused. She wore gloves as though she was embarrassed by them... but whenever she held my hand, she always took them off.”

To you alone, I will show everything of myself.

That was what it meant.

Anton's expression was vivid as he spoke. There was none of the tragedy or weariness one might expect from a man who had spent four hundred years searching for his lover.

“There's something I'm curious about.”

Najin spoke as he rowed vigorously.

“Didn't you say it's been over four hundred years since you parted from this witch, Lapis? And you've been searching for her all that time.”

“That's right.”

“Yet you don't look sad or exhausted at all. Quite the opposite, in fact.”

“Ah. I see what you're getting at. You're asking why I don't go around looking half dead, like someone in a famous play or tragedy?”

Najin nodded, and Anton burst out laughing.

“Well, they say a tragic, broken man has his charm... but Lapis told me I was fucking attractive when I smiled. If my lady says so, what else can I do?”

“So that's why you keep smiling.”

“That doesn't mean I'm faking it. I'm simply enjoying the whole journey. Whether it takes a hundred years, four hundred, or a thousand, I will meet her again. In that case, is there any rule that says the journey has to be tragic?”

Anton cried out theatrically. Letting go of the oar he had been working so vigorously, he spread both arms wide and smiled.

“Comedy or tragedy? What separates them is something very small. No matter how tragic your situation, it's all in how you take it. If I laugh, it isn't a tragedy. It's a comedy. And I prefer comedy to tragedy.”

So laugh. Don't cry; laugh. Throw your head back and laugh freely. Sing of four hundred years of comedy rather than four hundred years of tragedy. Saying this, Anton took up his oar again.

“I dislike my uncle, but this is the one thing he said that I agree with. Laugh. What reason is there not to laugh? Life is a comedy!”

Najin flinched.

Life is a comedy.

His expression twisted as he turned those words over in his mind.

“... I'm not very fond of that saying.”

“Why? Do you dislike comedy?”

“More precisely, it's because of the devil who says it.”

Najin spoke with his expression still twisted.

“Have you heard of the Emperor of Revelry? That woman says things like that. That life is a comedy. That everything is nothing more than a comedy. She says it to mock life.”

Najin ground his teeth as he rowed. His grip on the oar naturally tightened.

“I hate it. It disgusts me. I can't bear to see the lives of people who gave their all reduced to some pathetic clown show.”

“Well, you're not wrong about that either. But did you know that's also what the Emperor of Revelry wants?”

“What?”

“Comedy wasn't originally a concept belonging to the Emperor of Revelry. That damned devil corrupted it,” Anton said.

“Comedy isn't mockery. A spoonful of sugar makes bitter coffee tolerable. In the same way, a drop of laughter makes a hard life worth living. That's why comedy came into being.”

How could anyone live every moment with weighty solemnity? Sometimes you had to be lighthearted, laugh cheerfully, and shake things off, just as you opened a window to air out a room full of gloomy air. That, Anton said, was comedy's purpose.

“That's why I laugh. I'm trying to live cheerfully. Then, when I meet Lapis, won't I be able to give her my very best smile? One that makes the last four hundred years of waiting feel laughable.”

Anton smiled as he spoke, and even Najin thought it was a rather fine smile.

“Enough serious talk. Where was I? Was I telling you about Lapis's big breasts? Yes, to elaborate on that a little. Now, when it comes to breasts, boy... Are you listening, boy?”

As Anton began discussing his philosophy on the proper size and shape of breasts, Najin let his words go in one ear and out the other. In any case, there seemed to be no chance of the voyage becoming boring.

SPLASH!

The waves surging in the distance did not look likely to allow it. Najin swiftly lifted his oar from the water.

“You can tell me that story later.”

Najin raised the cross-star spear, restored from an oar to its original purpose. Monsters waited where its tip pointed. Aiming at the star-swallowing beasts drawn to their stars, he spoke.

“We'll have to do something about those first.”

3.

Anton frowned at the star-swallowing beasts approaching with the distant waves.

“Tch. I was in the middle of something important. Just like beasts to interrupt without a shred of tact.”

He raised the weapon he had been using as an oar. Its shape was closer to a staff than a spear.

Anton spun it once to shake off the water, then took his stance. With one foot on the bow, he aimed the end of his staff at a beast as though leveling a spear. Narrowing his eyes and taking aim at its heart, he thrust his arm forward.

That was all.

All he had done was extend his staff, but the result looked less like a thrust than a blow from a hammer. With a loud crack, the center of the beast's body caved in.

“Whew. I may not look it, but I am a transcendent being. A whole horde of beasts like that wouldn't be a problem.”

Having dispatched the beast with extraordinary ease, Anton lightly shook his staff and joked.

“Still, they'd be difficult opponents for someone who's only a Sword Seeker, wouldn't they? I can't make you fight when you're already our guide, navigator, and oarsman, so I, as captain—”

While he was muttering that, Najin let his words go in one ear and out the other and thrust his spear.

Battering Ram.

The wave was pierced. The smaller beasts rushing in with it were caught in the storm and shredded, while those too large to be swept away had enormous holes punched through the centers of their bodies.

“...”

Anton blinked. Looking between Najin and the path blown wide open through the sea, he spoke in disbelief.

“Didn't you say you were a Sword Seeker?”

“Yes. I am a Sword Seeker.”

“Don't lie to me. What Sword Seeker in the world can pierce a wave with a single strike?”