Chapter 15 - Farts

“Is it my imagination, or does the Fourth Battalion’s commander keep glaring at me?”

“He is glaring at you.”

“He must be jealous of my good looks.”

“... He probably thinks you’re the bastard who stirred up trouble for nothing. The demon-beasts’ movements were a little unusual, but not enough to warrant a full-scale investigation.”

Galahad scratched his cheek at Gilberton’s answer.

“He wouldn’t care if the Special Operations Unit went out. The problem is that Lady Adrianna is coming with us.”

Gilberton discreetly pointed to one side, where a large white carriage stood.

“Lady Adrianna makes no exceptions even for her fellow commanders. Knowing she’s coming to visit will have the Fourth Battalion’s commander on edge.”

“So we’re bringing a general along on a unit inspection.”

“What do you intend to do? We might find nothing.”

“If there are no accomplishments to earn, we’ll just have to create some.”

Gilberton narrowed his eyes. Galahad patted his shoulder.

“Accomplishments are made, my friend.”

Just then, Tom returned from fetching their carriage, looking none too pleased.

“Isn’t this a cargo wagon? How are we supposed to travel all that way in this—”

At Tom’s grumbling, Galahad examined it. It was certainly smaller than the carriage they had ridden in before, and it had no windows.

Still...

“Isn’t it just a carriage anyway?”

To Galahad, they were all the same. Weren’t they all crude means of transportation with wheels, pulled by horses?

“We’re a newly formed unit with neither accomplishments nor an established footing. This treatment is only natural. If you don’t like it, earn some accomplishments. Then they’ll give us a bigger carriage.”

Gilberton pointed at the Fourth Battalion’s carriage. Compared with theirs, it was certainly larger, with thicker wheels. Its exterior was also covered in assorted decorations.

Soldiers who appeared to belong to the Fourth Battalion openly sneered at them.

“They’re going in that? That’ll be the death of them.”

“It isn’t even covered in hides. Won’t they freeze to death?”

Galahad’s question remained unchanged. Whether it belonged to the Fourth Battalion, the First Battalion, or them, in the end...

“Isn’t it just a carriage anyway?”

Large or small, a carriage was just a carriage to him. It was no different from building a bigger wooden boat, painting it, and swaggering about it.

“Yes, that’s true.”

“You’re right. Our carriage doesn’t define us.”

Tom looked oddly moved, while Gilberton seemed less than convinced. They appeared to have misunderstood him.

What was the point of talking to idiots who knew nothing about magic?

Clicking his tongue softly, Galahad headed toward the carriage.

‘Warmth and cushioning should do.’

He intended to lay down some basic magic. The most important consideration was mana, though...

“What... What is it?!”

“I was merely looking.”

“You had a strange look in your eyes! A lecherous one!”

Gwen covered herself. She was rather perceptive.

Her mana reserves were quite large, and since she didn’t use magic anyway, he could put them to work. The process would also expose her to mana.

Galahad put a cigarette between his lips and waved a hand. He intended to use the principles behind magical devices.

Magical devices normally used mana stones. Spell formulas were inscribed with a stone of concentrated mana set at their center, allowing them to draw upon the mana in the atmosphere.

This time, Gwen would be the mana stone. Of course, using a person like a mana stone required a somewhat difficult spell, but the caster was Galahad.

An exceedingly fine, thin layer of air formed at his fingertip: a compressed wind blade. He moved it about, engraving magic circles here and there.

“Gwen, sit here.”

“Yes! This feels a little strange! It tickles!”

“Bear with it. Oh, and absolutely no farting.”

“... I never fart in the first place! But now that you’ve said that, I want to!”

Once Gwen was seated, the magic slowly began to work. The freezing interior soon warmed up.

“Wow... So this is magic. It feels just like sitting in front of a fireplace.”

“This is nice.”

“This feels strange... Ugh...”

Damian lay down on the seat as though melting into it.

“... Tom, do you know how to handle the reins?”

Gilberton, who normally never relinquished the reins, asked awkwardly. Apparently, he wanted to come inside now that it was warm.

“There’s no room for you. That armor of yours is too big.”

At Gilberton’s undisguised disappointment, Galahad clicked his tongue softly.

“Show me some respect, and I’ll install it on the driver’s seat too.”

“Ah, our most esteemed Commander Galahad—”

“Excellent.”

When he drew a magic circle on the driver’s seat as well, Gilberton gave a rare smile.

“So even northern knights feel the cold.”

“I am human, you know. This really is nice. My backside is all warm—”

“The technical term is a butt-warmer.”

* * *

‘A butt-warmer...’

Gilberton grinned at the heat beneath his backside. It was only one part of him that had warmed up, but in this cold, it made an enormous difference.

With a demon-beast hide draped over him as well, he was as warm as could be.

Someone approached from the side: a woman on a brown horse with a white saddle. It was Hartna, who had joined the First Battalion at the same time as him.

“Oh, it suits you rather well.”

Hartna’s voice was laced with mockery. She had always been particularly jealous of Gilberton. Hearing that he had transferred to the Special Operations Unit had apparently delighted her enough to come and taunt him.

Normally, he might have been a little irritated, but after spending time with Galahad, this barely registered.

“It suits me? That’s a relief.”

Her face crumpled at once. So this was how it felt. Gilberton marveled quietly.

“How does it feel, dropping from the First Battalion to the Special Assault Unit? You were so full of yourself for getting into the First, and now you’ve fallen in one stroke.”

“It’s the Special Operations Unit, not the Special Assault Unit. You can’t even remember three simple words. You haven’t changed.”

“What?!”

Hartna shouted. Gilberton felt a curious thrill. So this was why Galahad needled people with every word.

“Ha! Getting dumped in the Special Assault Unit has made you prickly, hasn’t it? Must have been quite a shock.”

“I said Special Operations Unit.”

“Fine! Special Operations Unit! You’re being awfully fucking smug about a name that isn’t even worth remembering!”

Admittedly, the name didn’t exactly roll off the tongue.

“Your stupid decisions are why you’re stuck driving that shabby carriage.”

‘A shabby carriage... I suppose it does look that way.’

This carriage was more comfortable than Adrianna’s had been when he drove it. The only difference was a warm backside, but it mattered more than he would have expected. He had never driven a carriage this comfortable.

“Whatever. Lady Adrianna ordered me to collect your identification tag.”

Gilberton gazed at the white carriage ahead.

He did feel a little hurt, but that was how Adrianna had always been. She was a woman who held herself to the same boundaries.

CLATTER!

Just then, the door was thrown open.

“Good heavens! Sir Gilberton! Gwen has farted!”

“I told you I didn’t! It wasn’t meeee!”

“Actually, that was me.”

Gilberton chuckled at the uproar behind him.

“Here. Take it.”

He tossed over his well-worn First Battalion identification tag.

“You’re going to regret this.”

Gilberton laughed aloud at Hartna’s sneer.

Regret was something he lived with every day.

* * *

It was a dark night, the kind of night when the sound of a cutting wind kept battering the carriage.

‘Hmm...’

Galahad narrowed his eyes at an odd sensation.

Gwen gave a start and shook her head.

“It wasn’t me this time! I really didn’t fart!”

For an instant, he had felt something strange. It was only a fleeting sensation, but he had felt it clearly.

Galahad was not foolish enough to distrust his own senses. He hurriedly kicked the carriage door.

BANG!

The door flew open, revealing the scenery outside. They were surrounded by a forest blanketed in white. Tall, thin trees sped past, and icy air rushed inside.

“Did Gwen fart again?!”

“... I didn’t! I swear!”

Narrowing his eyes, Galahad held the carriage door and twisted his other hand as he extended it outside. The wind was so cold that his hand felt as though it might freeze.

The trees were packed so closely that he could not see into the dark forest. It looked as though a monster might be lurking within.

Galahad flicked his fingers lightly. Small flames sparked between them in succession, forming a great fire that pushed back the darkness.

What it revealed was...

“Demon-beasts.”

Wolves with red eyes.

Without hesitation, Galahad hurled the fireball. Just before it struck a wolf, the creature caught it.

‘Caught it?’

Galahad realized what had felt so wrong.

‘The wolves are walking on two legs.’

They did it so naturally that he almost wondered whether wolves normally walked upright.

“We’re under attack!!”

A long shout rang out.

“Wh-what is it?!”

“The smell of your fart drew the wolves here. That’s why I told you not to.”

“... What?! I’m sorry! Telling me not to only made me want to more...!”

Instead of answering, Galahad moved his fingers. Fire formed again, faster than before. The corners of his mouth lifted. He had grown stronger.

“They’re two-legged wolves! They’re weak against fire! They chew people’s heads off, so watch your heads!”

Tom shouted, having already drawn his shield. Damian stood beside him, looking just like a puppy about to go for a walk.

“The bad demon-beasts are waiting! Care to go?”

“Yes.”

Galahad grabbed Damian by the back and threw him outside. Gwen let out a long scream. Damian landed and rolled across the ground.

SNAP!

A wolf opening its jaws at him split apart. Damian emerged between the pieces with a broad smile.

“Remarkable work, no matter how often I see it! Sir Gilberton!”

“Yes! I’m unharmed!”

Gilberton held the reins in one hand and swung his sword with the other. His brilliant aura cleaved the wolves with ease.

“No! Pick up some hides!”

“What?!”

“Save some hides! I want a coat made! Tom! Do you know how to make coats?”

“What? What do you take me for? Of course I do!”

“Excellent! Gwen, don’t lift your backside off that seat! There’s a barrier spell there too!”

“Yeeees!”

Gwen screamed with her hands braced against the ceiling and her feet pushing against the floor.

Laughing, Galahad caught hold of the carriage roof. Using that grip, he kicked off the floor, and the world turned upside down for an instant.

THUD!

He landed atop the roof in a single motion, undid his coat buttons, and shook out his hands.

“Quite the acrobatic feat, sir.”

“There’s one behind you.”

“I know.”

Gilberton answered casually and swung his sword at an angle. The blue line it traced split the charging wolf apart.

Wolves were rushing them from every direction, but the knights and soldiers responded admirably. Apparently, this happened more often than he had expected.

Just then, a brilliant light erupted behind them.

Wolf corpses filled the air. There was no blood anywhere on them. They looked like thoroughly desiccated bodies.

At their center stood Adrianna.

Bathed from head to toe in brilliant light, she looked like a god descended from the heavens.

She calmly drew her sword through the air. A long line appeared in its wake.

For an instant, it seemed as though space itself had been severed.

‘She burned the mana with her sword...’

How was that possible?

Galahad could not believe it even as he watched.

The demon-beasts could not so much as touch Adrianna. No, they could not even stand before her.

It took only a single stroke. The wolves crumbled along the line her sword had drawn.

‘What absurd strength.’

That stroke showed why she was the Demon King’s greatest adversary.

There was not even a trace of strain on her face. It looked as though she had merely given her sword a casual swing.

He had originally wondered how the North kept the demon-beasts at bay. Now his question had changed.

‘How have the demon-beasts been keeping Adrianna at bay?’

That was the extent of her prowess.

‘I haven’t the faintest idea.’

Habitually imagining how he might kill Adrianna, Galahad clicked his tongue softly. No method he tried yielded a workable answer.

She was the natural enemy of everything that possessed mana. Her indifferent eyes betrayed no emotion.

Two sword strokes had ended the wolves’ attack. Everyone was already clearing up as though nothing had happened.

‘A harsh place.’

Galahad wiped the blood from his face and clicked his tongue softly.

“Two-legged wolves. They turn up all the time. Their fur is quite warm, so their hides are the most popular choice for coats.”

Gilberton explained as he flicked blood from his sword. In contrast to his pristine appearance, Damian was red all over, as though he had rolled in blood.

‘A demon-beast attack immediately after that faint sensation...’

Galahad snapped his fingers and formed a Mana Arrow, the spell he used to measure mana concentration.

Holding it, he headed toward the direction that had bothered him earlier. The Mana Arrow trembled slightly, then shrank.

‘The mana concentration is higher here.’

Naturally, mana concentrations varied, but there should not have been such a noticeable difference within the same area.

‘There’s something here.’

The corners of Galahad’s mouth rose.

“We’ll have to go this way.”

“The road is over there.”

“I’m a trailblazer. Follow me.”

“There will be strong objections.”

Gilberton pointed behind them. The First and Fourth Battalion troops were preparing to board their carriages.

Going in the direction Galahad indicated would mean leaving the carriages behind. They would hardly agree without a fuss.

“Why should that matter? Our superior is His Highness the Grand Duke.”

Gilberton chuckled, apparently taking it as a joke.

Hiding his trembling hand behind his back, Galahad approached Adrianna. She sat quietly with her eyes closed.

Was she reviewing the battle? That perfect battle just now? Galahad marveled.

“What is it?”

Her voice was impassive.

“There’s something over there.”

“Over there?”

“The mana concentration is high. That means there’s something artificial there. And... Might I borrow your map for a moment? Thank you.”

Galahad borrowed the map from the knight beside Adrianna and unfolded it.

“We should be roughly here by now.”

“How did you know?”

“I have a map in my head.”

The knight beside Adrianna chuckled, apparently thinking it a joke.

“The watchtowers the demon-beasts attacked are here, here, here, and here. But this tower in the middle is intact. Isn’t that strange?”

“It is.”

“Besides, there will be nothing to gain from visiting the collapsed towers. They’re already being rebuilt. We’re certain to find more by going this way.”

“There’s no road in that direction, so we can’t take the carriages. We would have to walk for half a day.”

The knight beside Adrianna interjected again. She was a beautiful woman with gentle features. When their eyes met, she dipped her head.

“Your opinion has merit.”

Adrianna nodded.

“That’s the opposite direction from the demon-beast attacks. Going there would only waste time. And isn’t it a departure from our original plan?”

The Fourth Battalion’s commander approached, his body liberally spattered with red blood. Galahad analyzed him from the stains. He favored thrusts.

Adrianna nodded again.

“The Special Operations Unit commander’s deduction is quite plausible, but it is not sufficient grounds to alter our plans. I apologize, but as it is a Mage’s reasoning, there are aspects I cannot understand. However, each commander has authority over the deployment of their own troops, so I cannot stop you if you wish to go. We will investigate the collapsed watchtowers as planned, then join you there afterward.”

Adrianna’s decision was just what he had expected.

Galahad had wanted to operate separately from the outset. If they traveled with Adrianna, all the credit would go to that dazzling woman.

The reason he had bothered telling her was the support she had mentioned at the end. If something troubled her, Adrianna would not simply let it pass. She was certain to come back.

If he encountered a formidable enemy, he planned to wait for her.

An agent always dug two escape tunnels.

“Hmph. The Special Operations Unit... They’ll have a hard time of it with such a foolish commander.”

Ignorant of all this, the Fourth Battalion’s commander snorted and laughed. He seemed to think Adrianna had taken his side.

Unfortunately for him, she had taken neither side. She had merely made a judgment.

They packed up in no time. Before long, Galahad’s group was left standing alone.

Galahad quietly surveyed his unit: Damian sticking out his tongue to lick the blood around his lips, Tom looking thoroughly tense, Gilberton looking relaxed, and Gwen looking serious with a rag and broom in hand.

Could they possibly be more of a mess?

“Let’s move, everyone.”

Galahad smiled faintly.

“... I’m sorry! It was only a tiny fart! I didn’t know wolves would come!”

Gwen hastily apologized.

* * *

“Hey, Karl! Someone’s coming!”

“Who would come to a place like this? Hurry up and get back to work! We’re nearly done!”

“No, they really are coming! Five of them!”

“Five?! We’re almost finished. We can’t afford to get caught over something stupid.”

“Then what do we do?”

“Kill them, you dumb fuck!”