Chapter 338 - Snowball (2)

Two years and six months.

We'd spent roughly half a year there, so it was fair to say time had passed at about a five-to-one ratio.

The problem was that the ratio didn't seem to be fixed.

“Amelia, did you get here before me?”

I was already fairly certain, but I asked anyway. The answer came immediately.

“Yes. It was a long wait. I left that magic device you're holding, too. So it would light up and signal me the moment you returned. Well... I didn't expect it to take over two years for the signal to come.”

So that explained the beep when I woke up.

It had been the sound of the magic device activating.

“Anyway, I'll explain everything you want to know later. Just keep running for now.”

Amelia seemed eager to end the conversation and put all her efforts into getting out of here, but I couldn't simply go along with her.

No matter how I looked at it, this made no sense.

“Wait. If Erwin's the one chasing us, why do we have to run?”

“I don't know about you, but that woman will definitely try to kill me. If I fight in this city, where the pact takes effect, I'll lose for certain.”

Okay, I understood she'd lose, but...

“Why the hell would she kill you?”

“Because she thinks I had something to do with your death.”

“Oh...”

That gave me some idea of what was going on.

Even so, I still couldn't understand Amelia's behavior.

“But I just need to meet her and convince her—”

“Convincing her won't be easy.”

“... What?”

At my bewildered question, Amelia stopped. Then she looked at me and spoke in a serious voice.

“Jandel, that woman isn't the elf you once knew.”

Her expression was that of someone recalling a monster.

Amelia was convinced that even I couldn't control Erwin.

“What could possibly have happened while I was gone...?”

“A great deal. We don't have time for a lengthy explanation.”

Firmly cutting off my muttering, Amelia continued.

“I doubt that woman even still wants to, but there's only one thing that matters.”

“Wh-what's that...?”

“She can't protect you.”

It had been a very long time since I'd felt like this.

How could I put it? No matter how much we talked, I couldn't make sense of any of it.

“... Protect? Me? From who, exactly?”

I repeated blankly, and once again Amelia gave a short answer.

“The entire world.”

What the hell was that supposed to mean?

I was about to ask another question when...

“Bjorn Jandel.”

Amelia called my name.

“This happened two years ago.”

Like a doctor telling a patient they were terminally ill, her voice was firm, yet tinged with bitterness.

“The royal family publicly declared you an evil spirit.”

... Excuse me?

* * *

A languid afternoon.

Warm sunlight streamed through the window bars into an office.

Inside, however, the atmosphere was far from peaceful.

“... That concludes my report.”

Alex Halo, assistant adjutant of the Third Magic Corps, announced the end of his regular report. Standing rigidly at attention with his chin raised stiffly, he studied his superior's expression.

She was reading the documents with a furrowed brow.

“Hmm...”

Once she had finished, she raised her head and looked at him.

There it was—that familiar, exhaustion-soaked look in her eyes.

He quietly breathed a sigh of relief.

Past experience told him he would get through this unscathed, at least this time.

“Well written. The content is good, too. I found the section on Noark's movements particularly interesting. It's speculation, but at least it shows some imagination, shall we say? Far better than the garbage you've brought me until now.”

Was that criticism or praise?

He couldn't tell, but there was only one thing he could say.

“Thank y—”

“Is that what you thought I'd say?”

Oh, damn it.

He involuntarily gulped at the sudden change in her voice.

His superior's eyes were no longer dulled by fatigue.

No, the fatigue was still there... but at least she no longer looked sleepy.

Those were the eyes of a predator regarding an herbivore it was about to devour.

If he just stood there, she would really tear him apart.

“If you tell me what needs correcting, I'll revise it.”

“For starters, the format is wrong. This part in particular—I told you about it last time, and you've made the same mistake again? Don't you know this goes to Commander Pevrosk once I approve it?”

“... I'll revise it.”

“No, the content itself is the problem to begin with. The people of Noark might be living inside the Labyrinth? Why not become a novelist instead? Not that I imagine your books would sell.”

“I'll revise it.”

“What are you, a parrot? How will you revise it? That's what you need to tell me.”

Whew. Finally, it was over.

“... I'll rewrite it.”

“Good, then.”

His superior's gaze moved to another document. Alex turned around, somehow holding together what remained of his battered soul.

Then he closed the door very carefully so as not to disturb her, already engrossed in her next task.

CREAK

Through the shrinking gap, he could see his superior. There was something compelling about the way she concentrated so intently despite the exhaustion on her face.

Was that why?

He felt he could understand why the soldiers in the corps feared her, yet didn't hate her.

'She'd be so much more popular if she were just a little kinder...'

The Mage of Gold.

Deputy commander of the Third Magic Corps, better known within its ranks by her nickname, “Little Ghost.”

'She certainly is gorgeous, thou—'

“What are you doing? Aren't you leaving?”

“M-my apologies. Glory to Raphdonia!”

The flustered man saluted, then hurriedly slammed the door he had been so carefully pulling shut.

And...

“Hah... When will he finally become useful?”

Allua Raven, the Mage of Gold, sighed as she stared at the closed door.

Her attention didn't remain diverted for long, of course.

Her pen began moving again as she worked through the tasks piled on her desk, one by one.

How much time had passed?

“That's enough for today.”

Raven stretched her stiff body and looked toward the window.

At some point, the sun had set, leaving the world outside dark.

'I've finished everything important today, so I can come in early tomorrow and take care of the rest...'

She had started undoing her uniform buttons, but smiled bitterly and fastened them again.

She would only be wearing the same thing to work tomorrow. What was the point of changing?

After simply putting on her officer's coat and tidying her desk, she checked the calendar one last time.

December 2, Year 156 of New Beginnings.

Looking at the calendar still made her feel strange.

Surely it was about time things got better.

Yet even now, her body sometimes froze like this, and her heart sank.

Having known loss, she understood all the more painfully.

That brief expedition with him and his companions had been so joyful, so brilliant. But those days... would never return.

'It's already been over two years...'

Two whole years and six months.

Even days wouldn't suffice to recount in detail everything that had happened during that time.

But to put it briefly, it had been a very long time.

Long enough for the bonds she'd struggled to hold together to be torn to shreds.

Long enough for a rank-6 mage of the Altemion School to join the royal army and rise to deputy commander of a corps.

CLACK

Raven approached the window and threw it wide open.

A chilly winter breeze drifted quietly inside.

WHOOOOSH

One by one, she recalled the last she'd seen of her companions.

The barbarian warrior, Aynar Pheneline.

Avman, usually unreliable but always dependable when it mattered.

And Misha, too.

'It's been more than half a year since I've seen any of them...'

Avman was the companion she'd met most recently.

Even that had been half a year ago, and their conversation hadn't been as warm as before. They'd run into each other on the sixth floor, exchanged updates, then parted awkwardly.

Well, she had seen Erwin two months ago...

But their relationship could hardly even be called that of former companions anymore.

Their eyes had briefly met, but they hadn't even said hello.

'Still, Avman and Aynar seem to be doing well...'

Thinking of her former companions, she quietly closed her eyes.

She had suddenly remembered the one who pained her most.

“Misha...”

Where was she now, and how was she getting by?

Raven reached out through the open window. Catching the first drifting snowflakes in her palm, she recalled her last conversation with Misha.

[“There's something I have to tell you, nyah...”]

That day had been roughly two years and four months ago.

October 28, Year 154 of New Beginnings.

The tail end of a particularly lonely autumn.

* * *

Intuition.

What explorers jokingly called the sixth sense.

Surprisingly, this sense was extraordinarily useful in life.

In this line of work, stories of someone ducking on nothing more than a sudden bad feeling, without any clear information or evidence, only to have claws sweep overhead were exceedingly common.

THUMP!

But this wasn't a sense one was born with.

The greater one's experience and intelligence, the more often intuition proved correct. Intuition was the result of information accumulating like grains of sand in the subconscious, then coming together.

It was merely difficult to explain how one had arrived at that conclusion.

The basis for it existed clearly in the subconscious.

“Something you have to tell me...?”

Raven asked, doing her best to ignore the ominous feeling.

Nothing had been confirmed yet, had it?

Intuition often turned out to be nothing more than an error in judgment.

In fact, if anything, the times it proved correct were far rarer.

But...

“Yes... there's something I have to tell you, nyah... No, something I have to tell you...”

“Um, the way you're speaking...”

“Oh, this...? I'm trying to change it. I can't stay like that forever, after... all...”

“Oh... really? That's a good decision. I-it's nice, isn't it? I'll be rooting for you, too.”

On the surface, Misha's change was a positive one.

Raven knew something of her circumstances, after all.

Hadn't she injured her tongue in the past? Raven had heard that even after time passed and the wound healed completely, psychological issues had left her speaking that way.

Yes, surely that was the case...

THUMP!

Then why was her heart beating harder?

It only made her more uneasy.

“... So, what did you want to tell me?”

“Well, actually...”

Misha trailed off and averted her eyes. Then, as if she'd finally made up her mind, she forced the words out.

“I'm going to leave the team, nyah.”

A declaration of withdrawal.

But Raven didn't press her for the reason.

It wasn't all that surprising to begin with.

“I see...”

Honestly, she'd thought it might eventually come to this.

No matter whom they recruited, no one could fill the void that barbarian had left. Their Labyrinth expeditions would be suspended indefinitely, and the team would naturally disband in the end.

But...

“All right. If you've decided that's best, it isn't my place to tell you otherwise.”

It didn't matter if the team disbanded.

What mattered was the bond between them.

Not entering the Labyrinth together didn't mean that bond had to end here.

“So, what do you plan to do now?”

“First, I'll return to my family.”

“Oh, even if you just want to rest without any particular plans, I supp—”

“And I'll enter the Labyrinth, nyah. No... I'll enter the Labyrinth.”

“... Pardon?”

Raven couldn't understand at all.

She was leaving the team, yet entering the Labyrinth?

It felt like she'd been struck on the back of the head.

“The Labyrinth? With whom? Don't tell me you've already found a new team?”

Feeling an inexplicable sense of betrayal, Raven fired off questions.

But Misha didn't answer.

She merely changed the subject in a somewhat bitter voice.

“More importantly, that's not all I have to tell you, nyah...”

At those words, Raven felt the unease she'd barely managed to settle grow deeper.

Was that why?

Her voice, raised in agitation, grew calm.

“... Go ahead.”

Perhaps because her mind had gone cold, her voice sounded somewhat chilly, too.

Misha went beyond avoiding her gaze and fixed her eyes on the floor.

Then she spoke in a very small voice.

“You see, soon... rumors are going to start spreading that Bjorn is an evil spirit...”

“... What?”

“Oh! Th-they're only rumors! N-no matter what anyone says, don't believe them, nyah! I-I just wanted to tell you that...”

What on earth was Misha talking about?

Had Mr. Jandel's death driven her out of her mind?

Even as Raven wondered whether this conversation was remotely normal, another thought occurred to her.

It was intuition.

The sixth sense that reached the truth before rational thought.

“You're going to spread those rumors yourself, aren't you, Misha? Though I don't know why.”

As if in answer, Misha took a step back.

“That's why you came to warn me beforehand. You didn't want us to remember Mr. Jandel as an evil spirit.”

Raven took a step forward.

“But here's the thing.”

She had already realized it.

“You said there would be rumors that Mr. Jandel was an evil spirit.”

She knew the true nature of the dread that had been eating away at her all this time.

“Those... aren't just rumors, are they?”

Raven caught Misha's wrist as she asked.

It was an uncharacteristic misjudgment.

There was no way a mage could physically restrain an explorer who specialized in physical combat.

“... Ngh!”

Misha shook off her hand, turned, and fled. The next day, rumors that Bjorn Jandel was an evil spirit spread throughout the city.

And...

“Where on earth did she disappear to...?”

That was the last Raven had seen of Misha.