Grimgal of Ashes and Illusion - Volume 9 - Chapter 2

2. I Want to Protect You

Honestly, Kuzaku didn’t understand what was happening at first. Everything had been intense, violent, and extreme. It was only after the Rock and Arnold the undead had started their incredible scuffle that Kuzaku had noticed.

Haruhiro was gone. Or rather...

Where Haruhiro had been standing before, now stood that Sakanami guy with the crazy eyes, the Typhoon Rocks’s thief.

On top of that, he was standing like Haruhiro. The way his shoulders were hunched slightly, his head was tilted forward a little, and his knees were slightly bent was identical. Kuzaku had no recollection of Sakanami ever standing like that, so he was probably imitating Haruhiro. He was a perfect copy of Haruhiro. Perhaps that was why Kuzaku hadn’t noticed when Haruhiro went missing.

Kuzaku sensed it wouldn’t be wise to make a fuss about it, so he asked Shihoru in a whisper, “Where’s Haruhiro?”

While keeping her eyes fixed on the battle unfolding between Rock and Arnold, Shihoru simply replied, “Getting Merry.”

Makes sense, thought Kuzaku, satisfied.

Haruhiro gone to save her. To save Merry, by himself.

Was he going to have trouble by himself? Nah, it was actually easier for him to move around when he was alone. Even if Kuzaku had gone with him, he’d only have been in the way. Haruhiro would pull this off. That was what Kuzaku wanted to think. Haruhiro had a rock-solid sense of responsibility. He could get things done when it was time to get things done. Of course, that made you question whether there was ever a time not to get things done.

Kuzaku had a bad habit of losing focus—no, of letting his mind relax sometimes. He hadn’t noticed it until he’d been in Haruhiro’s party for some time. Watching Haruhiro, he’d realized how easily he’d been taking things.

Even with his sleepy eyes, Haruhiro was always alert. If anything, the more focused he became, the sleepier his eyes looked. Haruhiro wouldn’t lose focus at a key moment. He’d always have sleepy eyes, alert, using his head, and acting on behalf of his comrades.

Kuzaku always wished he could be like that, too, and he tried, but then he’d catch himself relaxing all of a sudden. Even in the middle of an intense battle, there were times when he felt like he couldn’t quite focus.

Maybe it’s because I’m so dependent, thought Kuzaku.

In the end, he tended to leave things to others. Somewhere in his heart, he was always relying on someone else. He was trying to adopt the mindset that he had to handle things himself, but he just couldn’t do it.

I’m hopeless, Kuzaku thought. It was frustrating, too. He had this big body, but what was he using it for? If he couldn’t shoulder any of the burden, it was meaningless.

I’ll bet Moguzo wasn’t like this.

Kuzaku had only seen the guy fighting that one time. The battle at Deadhead Watching Keep. He’d been big. Kuzaku was probably the taller one, but Moguzo had been thick, solid. He’d seemed so clearly reliable.

The sight of Moguzo’s Rage Blow cutting down an orc was still seared into Kuzaku’s eyes. He didn’t know what to call it other than amazing.

In the Dusk Realm, Akira-san had showed off his Punishment for them. His skill had been like a crystallization of the highest level of technique, and it was hard to imagine how it was even possible to reach that level. Kuzaku had only been able to look on in awe.

Moguzo’s Rage Blow, on the other hand, hadn’t been like that. It wasn’t that Kuzaku thought, Hey, even I could do that, but if it was possible, he wanted to learn to use his own sword that way.

The position of Kuzaku’s hips was too high. It was unstable. He realized that, so he was trying to fix it. Even so, when he checked on himself occasionally, his hips were too high most of the time. He wasn’t the flexible sort, and his arms and legs were long, making finer movements more difficult, so compared to Haruhiro and... yeah, that stupid traitor, Ranta, as well as Yume who was both a hunter and a girl, he was slow.

He knew he surely had a lot of points to improve on. He wanted to get rid of them one by one. He had strong points, like how big he was, too, so putting those to effective use was also important.

Shihoru had cautioned him to not let things weigh on him too much, but what else was he supposed to do? Kuzaku was the tank.

Haruhiro had said to him, “But now—Kuzaku, you’re our party’s tank, and I think you’re the only one who can be.”

He remembered it precisely. He’d never forget those words. Whenever he thought back to them, his heart shivered.

I’ve gotta do it, he’d think. I’m gonna do it.

I swear I’m gonna make myself into a great tank.

It was a good thing he’d had his heart broken. Now, without any distractions, he could focus wholly on a single goal.

I’m still worried about Merry... -san, though.

Well, of course he was. He was beside himself with worry, to be honest. Like, what were they doing to her? Those sorts of worries cropped up, of course. Even if he knew it was futile thinking about it, that didn’t help one bit.

If he could have taken her place, he would have. She was a girl, after all. It was tougher on her.

That was all the more reason why he couldn’t forgive that moron, Ranta.

“...Huh?” Kuzaku blinked and took another look. “Huh? Hold on. That’s weird. Whaa...?”

There was a small hill across from them, and on top of it there was a goblin riding a giant wolf, and a smallish orc who was apparently called Jumbo. Down at the base of the hill there was a mass of orcs, undead, and more races lined up—but there was no sign of that guy.

“Isn’t Ranta kinda missing?” Kuzaku whispered.

“Looks like he took off somewhere. Just now,” Yume said quietly. “Oh, that one human went and disappeared when Ranta did, too. They took some others along with them.”

“Whoa. I totally missed that...” Kuzaku sighed. “Damn Ranta. Where’d he go?”

“He figured it out.” Shihoru bit her lip. “Maybe. About Haruhiro-kun, I mean...”

“That’s... kinda bad, isn’t it?” Kuzaku asked with trepidation.

Yume groaned.

“It’s bad, but...” Shihoru shook her head slightly. “There’s nothing we can do. Even if we went on the move... I don’t think we could catch up to Haruhiro-kun now. We might get lost, too... For now, we have to trust in Haruhiro-kun.”

“Seriously...?” Kuzaku was speechless.

“Trust in Haruhiro.” For Kuzaku, that was easy. He was certain that Haruhiro would pull this off, and if Haruhiro couldn’t, then there was just no helping that. But trusting in Haruhiro and leaving it to him basically meant making Haruhiro shoulder all of the burden.

Once again, like always, everything fell to Haruhiro.

It made Kuzaku want to laugh. Mockingly, at himself.

I’m too powerless.

“Not an issue,” the self-proclaimed strongest dread knight in active service, Moyugi of the Typhoon Rocks, said, pressing on the bridge of his glasses with the middle finger of his right hand. “I’ve prepared for this.”

“Prepared?” Kuzaku moved his throat to swallow his spit, but there was none left in his mouth to swallow. “How?”

Looking smug, Moyugi didn’t answer.

Kuzaku didn’t know if the guy was smart, or a tactician, or whatever, but he was smarmy, self-important, acted like he was mocking others, and was a generally detestable man.

The priest with the buzz cut, Tsuga, was smiling. This guy reminded him of something. That thing, you know. That. A Jizo. Yeah. He was like a Jizo.

But what was a Jizo again? He didn’t know what it was, but he could bring its shape to mind. This bald little statue made of stone. Tsuga was like a Jizo.

Kajita, the one who wore sunglasses, who had been lying there spread-eagled ever since he’d been sent flying in from behind them and landed there with a loud thud, suddenly shouted “Oop!” and jumped to his feet.

What’s oop supposed to mean? Kuzaku wondered.

Sakanami was still imitating Haruhiro.

You can give it up already, thought Kuzaku. It seems like they’re already on to us.

Rock laughed loudly as he grabbed Arnold, or as he was pushed back and grabbed instead, punched and was punched, kicked and was kicked, headbutted and was headbutted, over and over. Is he on drugs? Kuzaku wondered. They were all a bunch of weirdos.

Well, it wasn’t just the Typhoon Rocks. Whether it was Akira-san’s group, Soma’s group, or the Tokkis, they were all pretty weird.

I can’t keep up with these people, was Kuzaku’s honest opinion.

In that respect, Haruhiro’s party was different. Very different. They were normal, you could say. Comforting. He was sure he could get along with them.

That didn’t mean everything would work out fine, but he’d learn to like his comrades, and to respect them. Even if Ranta was the one huge exception to that, there were exceptions to everything, so he could tolerate that much. He had to.

It had been a big shock when Merry had shot him down, but neither of them were children. Merry was an adult, so she had let it slide, strange as it was to say it that way. They’d been able to go on as comrades, as if it had never happened, respecting one another, and moving forward. Even though he’d thought it was impossible at one point, they’d escaped from Darunggar and managed to make it back to Grimgar. Alterna felt far away, but he was sure they’d get there somehow.

Or so he had thought.

What’s up with this? Kuzaku thought. Why do things keep going so wrong? Is that just life? Even if it is, aren’t we being put through too many trials?

I can’t accept this.

If this was reality, he had to take it as it was. Even Kuzaku understood that. He just wanted to complain.

He’d found himself in Grimgar all of a sudden, he’d had no choice but to become a volunteer soldier, he’d seen all his comrades die—all of them except for him. Still, he had managed to try to stay positive and do his best. He was doggedly persistent, and thanks to that, he’d been admitted to Haruhiro’s party. Kuzaku felt he’d done the best he could there.

And for all that, this is what I get?

A little harsh, don’t you think?

I dunno... I think I deserve a little more.

Is that naive of me? My heart feels ready to break.

He couldn’t let it. Haruhiro was still hanging in there, trying to do something. Kuzaku was just watching. How could he let his heart break?

Pull yourself together. Be strong.

But his legs felt weak, and he wanted to just sit down.

What about Shihoru and Yume? They clearly weren’t doing so hot, but they didn’t look like they’d given in to despair, either. How was he supposed to keep himself together at a time like this? He wanted someone to tell him how. He wanted to ask Shihoru or Yume. No, that wasn’t it... He wanted them to support him.

“...Damn it.” Kuzaku spat out those words and tucked in his chin. That wasn’t how it should be. He shouldn’t be getting them to support him; he had to support them. That was the kind of guy he wanted to be. Ideally, he wanted to be like another leg for Haruhiro—No, that wasn’t quite it.

Yeah, no, it wasn’t. That seemed open to misinterpretation.

It was like, well, Shihoru was probably supporting Haruhiro mentally and spiritually. Kuzaku wasn’t clever or cool-headed like her, so he’d do it with his body. Yeah, as a tank, he’d support Haruhiro like a wall, or a pillar, physically. That was it. He had an image of it, so now he just needed to make it a reality.

If Haruhiro made it back safely... that was. Merry, too, of course.

That piece of shit Ranta had betrayed them. They had lost a comrade, and in a way none of them had expected. If they lost any more, the damage would be too great.

He wanted to cry. Because, for all that he wanted to do something, Kuzaku couldn’t do anything. He could just stand here, doing nothing. Kuzaku ground his teeth.

“Let’s end this already,” Rock called from the battlefield before them.

Rock mounted Arnold, raining fists down on his face, shouting, “Dah! Dah! Dah! Dah!” Every blow was a heavy one.

Arnold was a double-arm with four arms, but Rock had cut off one of his left arms, and his remaining left arm and one of his right ones were both heavily injured. That said, Arnold was acting like it didn’t even matter, using his two right arms and remaining left arm to defend himself. But Rock’s fierce attack broke through that, too. Was this fight just about decided now?

“Dah! Dah! Dah! Dah! Dah! Dah! Dah! Dah! Dah!”

Rock’s fist was hitting Arnold right in this face. There were groans from the onlooking members of Forgan. If he kept taking hits like that, he wasn’t going to last. If an undead’s head was crushed, that was supposed to be enough to destroy them.

He could do it. Just like that. Arnold couldn’t even defend himself anymore. Rock had won. No question.

Without meaning to, Kuzaku shouted, “Finish him!”

Then it happened.

“KYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY.”

Arnold let out a terrifying shriek and leapt straight up, taking Rock with him.

How had he done that? Arnold had been on his back, with Rock on his stomach, mounting him. In that position, how could he have sprung straight upwards?

If you thought about it normally, it was impossible. The undead, however, were not normal. Was that it?

Arnold, with Rock on his belly, had managed to jump what looked like three meters in the air.

Rock gasped in surprise, and tried to get away, but Arnold was having none of that, and he used his three remaining limbs to seize Rock. No, not just to seize him. Arnold had changed position in midair. He’d flipped over.

Arnold was on top, and Rock was on the bottom.

What was more, Arnold had used his three arms and both legs to point Rock’s head straight down.

Isn’t this bad? Kuzaku thought frantically. Won’t he land on his head?

“Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!”

“SYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY.”

“Rock!” Arara, who had been watching the fight in a half-dazed state up until that point, shouted her champion’s name.

The bad feeling Kuzaku had turned out to be right. Rock slammed into the ground head-first.

Is he gonna be all right after that? I dunno.

Arnold immediately jumped off Rock, then kicked him.

Kick. Kick. Kick. Kick. Kick. Kick. Kick. He kicked, and kicked, and kicked Rock some more. Rock wasn’t even trying to defend himself. He was getting kicked as much as he possibly could.

The members of Forgan started to cheer.

Rock’s comrades didn’t move. Not Moyugi, not Tsuga, not Kajita, and not Gettsu, the tiger-striped mirumi that rock was keeping as a pet.

Shihoru turned away, unable to watch any longer. Yume wasn’t looking away, but her cheeks were puffed up with a ridiculous amount of air.

Kuzaku muttered, “Awww....”

No, awww wasn’t thing to be saying right now, it wasn’t, but awww was the only thing he could get to come out.

They were going to lose? Or was it more like they’d already lost? Like, almost certainly? If Rock lost, what was going to happen here? Who knew?

Kuzaku didn’t. His entire mind was going blank. This might be what it meant to be weak. In the end, no matter what happened, strong people probably never thought they were going to lose, or that it was hopeless. If not for that, it would be impossible to turn things around. And, probably, his comrades must have believed in him.

Arnold went to kick Rock again. Rock wrapped himself around that leg. He moved almost like a snake. Even though he’d seemed like he might already be dead.

Was that not it? Had he been faking it? The whole time that Arnold was kicking him, Rock had been waiting for his chance to strike back?

If he had, that took some serious endurance. How tough was he? He was way too gutsy. There had to be something wrong with him.

Rock tried to pull Arnold to the ground. Arnold was using his left leg to try to kick Rock off of him, but it wasn’t going so well.

Rock shouted, “Yahhh! Take this!” Was he attacking his joints, maybe? Like his knee, or his ankle? He was trying to break them.

Arnold, not about to let him do that, screamed, “KAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!” He twisted his body around, used his three arms, and tried all sorts of things. But Rock didn’t let go of his right leg. He wouldn’t let go.

The two of them fell over.

Fell and rolled.

“KU...!”

Suddenly, Arnold had stopped resisting.

Just before he did, Kuzaku felt like he’d heard a loud crunch. Was it his leg? His right leg. Had Rock finally finished off Arnold’s right leg? That must have been it.

Rock released Arnold’s leg of his own volition, rolled backwards to put some distance between them, then assumed a low posture.

Arnold got up, too, but he was lifting his right leg. There was no doubt about it. Arnold couldn’t use his right leg anymore. Could he still fight even with one leg busted?

Kuzaku sure couldn’t. First of all, he wouldn’t be able to move around properly. Or dig his heels in, either. He wouldn’t be able to do much of anything.

Rock wasn’t unharmed, either. His face was all swollen up, and was even bleeding. With the kicking he’d taken, it would be completely unsurprising if he had a broken bone or two, but it looked like his arms and legs were fine for now. Even if he had gotten off without any broken bones, he was definitely bruised all over.

Yet the way he moved made it look like he didn’t even feel it.

Rock slid in close to Arnold, letting loose a punch. It was a left jab. With a quick combo, jab, jab, jab, he hit Arnold in the face.

Arnold may have tried to avoid it, but he wasn’t able to. That three-jab combo was followed by a right straight, a left hook, and another right straight that all landed, then a left uppercut and body blow, a right straight to the jaw, followed by a right uppercut to the same, a left hook to the side of his face, and an immediate right straight to follow.

“Look at that. There’s no way he won’t do something...” Kuzaku didn’t quite know what he was talking about, but he could tell that Rock’s attacks weren’t random. It had to be a martial art or something. Rock knew how to fight with his fists. He was no amateur. “Boxing...”

Yeah. That’s it. Boxing.

He knew what it was. It was only for an instant, but an image appeared in Kuzaku’s head. Two men in short pants, wearing thick gloves on their hands, hitting one another.

That. That was boxing. He’d seen a boxing match—but where, and when...?

He didn’t know. He couldn’t recall. The image that had appeared so clearly in his mind was completely gone now.

Boxing. The word remained. Rock was a boxer. A fighter.

Kuzaku felt a sudden sense of urgency. Boxing. Boxer. Those words, the concept, he needed to carve them into his mind now, or he’d forget them. He felt like he’d forgotten many things this way. Lost them.

Rock went on the attack. It was one-sided. He was showering Arnold with carefully aimed punches.

This wasn’t a fight. His footwork was on another level. There was too great of a gap.

Looking closer, though, Arnold was still moving. Or trying to, at least. But Rock always circled around in front of him. When Arnold tried to run, Rock always headed in that direction. Then, he hit him with a punch.

Even when Arnold stumbled, looking like he might fall, Rock hit him with a punch to stop it. Arnold couldn’t even fall over.

Kuzaku sort of got why. It was because Rock was a boxer. Rock was at his best when he was on his feet, punching. Fighting from the ground, which was to say using pinning techniques and taking the mount position and then landing blows on his opponent, was not Rock’s forte.

His fists. Rock planned to settle this with his fists. He was confident in them.

“Rockyyyyyy!” Kuzaku was surprised when Sakanami suddenly started twisting his body around and shouting. “Four! Rocky two! Three! Four!”

What was he on about? Was he off in the head? He certainly didn’t look sane. However, as if Sakanami’s bizarre shouting had triggered it somehow, Rock got visibly faster.

“Whoa...” Kuzaku couldn’t help but let out a groan of admiration. Whether he tried opening his eyes wide, or blinking, he couldn’t see him properly. Fast. He was too fast. Rock’s punches were too fast for his eyes to follow.

Whatever he was doing with them, Arnold couldn’t block, or parry, or slip, or duck, or weave, or sway. Every single one of Rock’s punches was hitting Arnold. They were all clean hits. At this point, Arnold was no more than an undead doll, there to take Rock’s punches. No, not a doll, an undead punching bag.

The members of Forgan were quiet. They sensed Arnold’s impending defeat, too. No, they didn’t just sense it, they must have more or less accepted it.

The fight was decided. Rock just wasn’t trying to end it. If Rock stopped attacking, Arnold would crumple. Why didn’t Rock do that?

Whatever the reason, Rock kept up the chain of blows. Arnold wasn’t groggy yet, either. Was that what Rock was thinking? It turned out that was exactly it. Rock unleashed his umpteenth right straight. It didn’t look like he’d gone in for the finish, and his movements as he prepared to throw the punch had become larger, resulting in a so-called telegraphed punch. It was a normal one, too fast, and to Kuzaku it had looked like a perfect straight.

Then Arnold stopped it with his mouth.

He opened his mouth so wide that it looked like he’d dislocated his jaw, and was going to tear his cheeks, and Rock’s fist went straight inside. That was how it looked.

Naturally, Rock immediately tried to retract his fist, but Arnold took his chance to bite down and stop him. His upper and lower teeth sank into Rock’s arm, biting him hard.

With a gasp of alarm, Rock slugged Arnold in the gut and temples with his left fist. They were sharp punches, and powerful, no doubt, but not like Rock. Rock was disturbed.

Arnold, on the other hand, still seemed to be calm.

Arnold acted like Rock’s punches meant nothing to him. He grabbed Rock’s head with a left and right hand.

Kuzaku let out an “Ah!” despite himself.

His thumbs. Arnold’s thumbs were in Rock’s eyes. He was putting out both of his eyes at once with his left and right thumbs. If he only hurt the eyes a little, it would be fine, but if it was more than that, Rock’s career as a boxer would be...

No, that wasn’t the issue here!

“Enough!” someone shouted.

When that loud voice resounded through the area, it felt as if all the fog had cleared from Thousand Valley. Not that it would ever happen. But it felt like it could blow the fog away. It wasn’t just loud; it was an incredibly clear voice, too.

“Jumbo,” someone said. Probably one of Forgan’s members. It led to a chain of people calling out that name.

“Jumbo.”

“Jumbo!”

“Jumbo.”

“Jumbo!”

“Jumbo.”

“Jumbo!”

“Jumbo.”

“Jumbo!”

Jumbo.

That orc was standing atop the hill, and had been watching over Rock and Arnold’s showdown in silence up until now.

Was it him? Had he said it? Enough. Had he stopped them?

Either way, what an orc.

For Kuzaku, when he thought of orcs, the strongest impression he had was of the ones he’d fought at Deadhead Watching Keep. The ones living in Waluandin in Darunggar came next.

In both cases, they were of larger build than humans, had roughly human-level intelligence, and were a little rough, like you’d expect them to be grunting. He’d assumed that orcs, as a race, were all like that. But that orc didn’t fit into his image of orcs at all. He was a breed apart.

For a start, what was that robe that opened at the front that he was wearing? It was deep blue, with a silver flower pattern. Kuzaku hadn’t seen a piece of clothing that beautiful anywhere he’d been in Grimgar or Darunggar. Had the orc made that? If he had, it was ridiculously detailed work.

His flowing black hair might have looked like he’d just let it grow, but it didn’t give off the slightest impression that it was dirty at all. He probably at least combed it.

Then there was his face. His nose was low and wide, like it was smushed. Very orc-like. He had tusk-like teeth peeking out from the corners of his lips. This was typical of orcs, too. He was clearly an orc, but he wasn’t orc-like.

When Kuzaku had first seen an orc’s face, honestly, he’d thought they were ugly. There was no way you could have gotten him to say they were cool. Like, orc women, they were probably hideous? No better than goblins in that regard.

Yeah. They were like big, tough goblins. Basically, that was the image of orcs that Kuzaku had.

Jumbo was different. Maybe he was just a little orc-like, but actually belonged to a different race. Like some sort of super orc. Those orange eyes, they weren’t normal. Higher. That was it. Higher. He was some sort of higher form of being.

Though, that said, even if they didn’t take it to the same degree, all of the orcs in Forgan had some of that same atmosphere that Jumbo gave off. They might have been trying to imitate Jumbo’s dress and demeanor. Or, perhaps, just like there was so much variety between different humans, orcs came in all sorts, too, and there were orcs like that out there.

The one who might have been their representative, Jumbo, came down from the hill. He didn’t exactly jump. Or run. He came down at a surprisingly easy pace, just walking.

“Your battle...” Jumbo placed a hand on Arnold and Rock’s shoulders. “...will be decided by me.”

“Huh...?” Rock said, looking dumbfounded.

“Ih...?”

Rock and Arnold had apparently tried to turn and look at Jumbo. But Rock had Arnold’s thumbs in his eyes, and Arnold had Rock’s right arm in his mouth, making it difficult for him to move his head properly. Even if it weren’t for that, they were both beaten and bruised all over. They were quite a sight to behold, but Jumbo seemed perfectly fine with it. He was cool and composed to a degree that seemed out of place.

“If this continues, you will both die. Arnold, my companion, and you, the human volunteer soldier—Rock, was it? I feel it would be a shame for either of you to die here. Therefore, I declare your match a tie.”

“No, man... You can’t just decide that,” Rock snapped.

“Oh... Fuh...”

“Hey, Arnold, you can’t accept this either, can you?”

“Uh...”

“Oh. You can’t talk like this, huh? I’ll pull out my fist now. That’s okay, yeah?”

“Nu...”

“I’m pulling it out. Also, my eyes hurt, so pull out your thumbs, too,”

It looked like Arnold had loosened his jaw. Rock pulled his right arm out of Arnold’s mouth.

“I said, that hurts! Get your hands off me already, Arnold!”

“Mu...” Arnold cautiously released Rock’s head.

“Damn it!” Rock jumped back, rubbing his eyes with his eyelids closed. “I can’t see a thing. If I go blind, it’s not gonna be funny. What’re you gonna do if I can never see Arara’s face again?”

Tsuga muttered, “It could go either way...” Like it had nothing to do with him. Okay, it might not strictly have been his problem, but they were comrades, weren’t they?

“A tie, is it?” Moyugi stepped forward. “I don’t care what you call it, but I’d like things made a little more clear. You’re Jumbo, right? How, precisely, do you plan to settle this?”

There was an uneasy buzz from the members of Forgan. It was easy to see where they were coming from. Moyugi’s attitude was awfully insolent. Even Kuzaku, who was ostensibly his ally, wanted to be offended by it, so the members of Forgan had to be downright livid.

Is Jumbo going to snap? he wondered.

It didn’t look like he was.

“To be precise...” Jumbo turned to face Moyugi like a leaf fluttering in the wind. “If you people withdraw now, I will not lay a hand on you. You may strike at us again another day. You may choose to forget us. From here on, you will be free to do as you choose.”

“I see.” Moyugi gave a haughty nod. “And if we don’t agree?”

“...No, hold on, Moyugi.” Rock looked around. He didn’t seem to be able to see, but was he looking for someone? “Arnold! Are you okay with that?! This was our fight! I dunno if this guy is your commander, or what, but are you just going to willingly let him get in our way?!”

“Kuu...” Arnold looked to Jumbo.

“He’s not understanding,” Tsuga said in a whisper, grinning. “Our language.”

Kuzaku felt his face twitching. This Jizo, he seems like he’s a good guy with common sense, but maybe he’s actually got a nasty personality?

“This game is draw,” Jumbo said to Arnold. “Backout, eachother.”

He was probably saying it in some other language that Arnold the undead would understand.

Arnold sat down “I... gari.”

I agree. That was what it sounded like Arnold was saying.

“The hell!” Rock kicked the ground, and looked pretty unhappy, but... this wasn’t a bad development. In fact, it might be a better opportunity than they could have hoped for.

Kuzaku quickly glanced over at Shihoru and Yume. They understood without any need to talk. They were of the same mind as Kuzaku.

Rock and his group had planned this strike for revenge because Arnold had killed Arara’s fiancé Tatsuru, but, cold as it was to say this, Kuzaku and the other two had never had any investment in that whatsoever. The reason they’d decided to give Rock a hand was maybe ten to twenty percent out of a sense of obligation, but the remaining eighty to ninety percent was to save their comrade, Merry.

What had happened with Haruhiro? Was Merry safe? That wasn’t clear now, but Kuzaku and the other two naturally needed to consider their own safety. If Rock and the others would call off their revenge and retreat, be that for now or forever, Kuzaku and the other two could escape from here. From there, they’d head to the meet up point and wait for Haruhiro.

If Haruhiro came back with Merry, would it be going too far to call that the best possible outcome? If Haruhiro didn’t appear—well, Kuzaku didn’t want to consider the possibility, but if it came to that, they’d think of something when it did.

“So?” Moyugi pressed the middle finger of his left hand against the bridge of his glasses. His right hand was on the hilt of his sword. “If we choose not to retreat, what do you intend to do?”

“I,” Jumbo said in a tone he might just as easily have used to say he was going to take an afternoon nap, “will annihilate you people, personally.”

“...Huh?” Moyugi said.

It seemed even Moyugi hadn’t anticipated this. Naturally, Kuzaku hadn’t either.

Hold on, Kuzaku thought slowly. What did he just say?

Huh? What, what? Personally? Like, Jumbo personally? You people? Basically, Rock and his group, likely Arara and Katsuharu, too, and then probably Kuzaku, Shihoru, and Yume.

Annihilate?

Not just wipe out?

Well, they’re kind of similar, I guess. So, basically...

He’s gonna kill us all?

Kuzaku did all he could to sort it out in his head.

“Get lost, or I’ll kill you.” That seemed to be what Jumbo was saying.

“The wind that blows in the darkness whispers to me...” Sakanami was biting his nails intensely. His whole body was quivering, and he was doing both hands, too. “The dark history invites me beyond the abyss.... The reason for solitude, the false season plays out a prelude to destruction that questions the meaning of our existence...”

What was with this guy?

“Big talk.” The Jizo... er, Tsuga... looked angry.

Arara was the picture of indignation. “Just how much do you have to belittle us before you’re satisfied?!”

“Damn, I’m pissed,” Kajita muttered.

And then Kajita, the big man wearing sunglasses, hoisted his sword which looked like a thin slice of a massive mushroom, and charged forward.

Whoa, whoa, you’re flying off on your own?! At least discuss it first! That’s reckless! You’re going off half-cocked! That’s bad. Bad. I’m pretty sure this is bad. Man, Kajita means business. He’s totally flipped. Flipped right the hell out.

Kajita charged towards Jumbo with incredible vigor, not looking aside. “Uehhhhhh, hahhhhhhhhhh!”

Why didn’t Rock and the others stop him? Couldn’t they?

Well, Kuzaku didn’t know Kajita all that well, but he was a member of the Typhoon Rocks, he looked like bad news, and though he was a man of few words, everything he said was weird. Not as weird as Sakanami, though. Regardless, he didn’t seem like the type who would obediently listen if someone told him to do something. Though, that said, stopping him by brute force seemed like it’d be even more difficult, maybe almost impossible. Kuzaku, at least, had no desire to try it. He felt like he’d be blown away easily. Was he the type that even his comrades couldn’t stop once he got like that? Maybe?

Whatever the case, negotiations were a bust now.

This is the worst.

Kajita.

Screw you.

What are you even thinking, Kajita?

Then Kuzaku burst out, “Kajita, you— Wha...?!”

Kuzaku saw it. Kajita swung down his massive mushroom sword from a distance that would normally make you think, Seriously, from there? It’ll never reach.

Normally, you’d be right, and it absolutely wouldn’t, but for Kajita that was killing range. Kajita wasn’t just a super-powered moron. At long range he used his sword, and at short and medium range he used his kicks, switching deftly between the two. And for Kajita, long range was long.

Stretching out and using the length of his massive mushroom sword, his long arms, and that big body of his, he might even be able to cut an enemy who was close to three meters away in half.

The moment Kajita had Jumbo in killing range, he swung his massive mushroom sword at him.

Jumbo seemed to have predicted this, but he didn’t move backwards, or to the left or right to evade it. Instead—he disappeared. To Kuzaku, it looked like Jumbo vanished for an instant.

The moment that he thought, He’s not there. He’s gone, Jumbo reappeared above them. He’d jumped.

It seemed that Jumbo had leaped to avoid Kajita’s massive mushroom sword. But what was with the way he was moving?

It seemed like a contradiction, but Jumbo was standing in midair.

Naturally, Jumbo only stopped in midair for an instant. Even so, it wasn’t the stance that could easily be seen as that of someone who had jumped up to get there. Jumbo was relaxed. That was how he looked to Kuzaku.

However, he’d only evaded the first blow. Kajita still had his kicks as a weapon.

Using the momentum he had from swinging his massive mushroom sword, Kajita unleashed a reverse roundhouse kick with his left leg. Being in midair, Jumbo had to fall. That was what Kajita was aiming for.

There was no way to dodge this.

Jumbo didn’t try to dodge it, either.

When Kajita’s kick came in, he used it as a stepping stone to leap yet again. More than that, it looked like he was walking through the air.

Jumbo landed behind Kajita.

The way that Kajita immediately shouted, “Keyah!” and performed a reverse roundhouse kick with his right leg showed he was no ordinary guy. It wasn’t a single attack, either. He did a left reverse roundhouse and a right forward kick. Then he bent his right knee and did a three-kick combo of high, middle, and low kicks. After two kicks with his left leg, he made it look like he was going for a kick with his right, then instead went for another two-kick combo with his left.

It wouldn’t have been an exaggeration to call the combination of kicks Kajita displayed magnificent. He’d completely let go of his massive mushroom sword. With how big his body was, it was impressive he could move like that. To look at him, Kajita didn’t seem at all like he’d be so quick.

But Jumbo didn’t have so much as a scratch on him.

Jumbo had evaded all of Kajita’s kicks, then finally went on a counteroffensive. That much was clear. Kuzaku also saw what Jumbo did to Kajita.

Jumbo used his right hand to jab at Kajita’s chest—or rather, to push it.

That was all he did. That was all, but Kajita flipped over with his legs going up in the air, then landed head-first, striking his neck hard on the ground.

“I don’t see any way to win,” Kuzaku heard Moyugi mutter. He almost certainly didn’t just mean that the strongest dread knight in active service couldn’t beat Jumbo. Even if all of the Rocks, Moyugi included, were to gang up on Jumbo alone, they would be no match for him.

If Moyugi had made that call, he was probably right. In a fortunate coincidence, you might say, Kuzaku had just been thinking the same thing, and he didn’t disagree in the least.

“The way you are now,” Jumbo said in a tone no different than before, “you cannot even make me take a knee. However, you still have much ahead of you. Your room for growth is greater than my own. This is because while few in this vast world are greater than I, you yet have enemies to face. If you are able to best them, you will grow stronger yet.”

He said incredible things like they were nothing. Jumbo had declared that while he might not be the strongest person in the world, there was hardly anyone out there who could beat him.

No matter what, that had to be him getting ahead of himself. Though Kuzaku thought that, at the same time, if Jumbo wasn’t at the highest level, just what sort of creature did he have to imagine was above him?

That thing, maybe? The fire dragon in Darunggar? Even Jumbo probably couldn’t beat that thing. It could spit fire, after all. That thing was just too big. At the very least, he couldn’t take it alone.

Even he wouldn’t be able to... I think.

“Go.” Jumbo made a slight gesture with his chin. “At once. If you will not go, there will be no tomorrow for any of you. I will waste no more words. Live, or die. The choice is yours.”

“For our part,” Rock responded immediately, “we’re backing off. Arara, I’m sorry I couldn’t grant your wish. I won’t ask you to let it slide. I failed to do what I set out to do. I’m seriously the worst.”

Arara slumped her shoulders and hung her head. “...I wouldn’t say that.”

Because Kajita decided to get rough, I didn’t know how things were going to turn out for a moment there, but it looks like this is going to go fine. Kuzaku let out a sigh.

It overlapped with Shihoru’s sigh, so they looked at one another and smiled wryly.

Yume blinked repeatedly and then shook her head. Even in this situation, it was an expression and gesture that made you want to smile. Yume was kind of mascot-like, you could say. She had something that wasn’t a girlish cuteness, but was cute nonetheless.

“We’re leaving.” Rock started to walk— Wait, why was he walking towards Jumbo?

Jumbo gently stopped Rock, then turned him back in the other direction. “Take care as you go.”

“...Yeah. Sorry about that.” Rock scratched his head.

Oh, right. Because Arnold had thrust his thumbs into his eyes, Rock couldn’t see right now.

“...We’re leaving. Is this the way? This way’s good, right...?”

“Rock.” Arara rushed over and took Rock’s hand. “Let me do this for you, at least. This was all my fault to begin with.”

“Hmm. I don’t really think that’s true. Though, for my part, I’m just happy I get to hold your hand.”

“This way.” Katsuharu beckoned to Arara. The Jizo was casually picking up Rock’s sword. That guy didn’t miss anything.

Moyugi was trying to drag Kajita to his feet. “...You’re heavy. I don’t think I can lift you up, after all. Get up on your own, please.”

“Indeed.” Kajita nimbly jumped to his feet.

He’s still in pretty good shape...

Sakanami was twisting his entire body around, performing a bizarre dance.

Creepy...

Come to think of it, Kuro was missing. How long had he been gone for?

Who cares...

Kuzaku loosened his knees, raising his shoulders up and down. Honestly, I seriously have no idea what to think of these people anymore. I don’t want anything to do with them.

He hoped this would be the last time. He just wanted to get all of his comrades back together quickly, and then to get out of Thousand Valley. Though, by “all of his comrades,” he meant five people, not six.

Let’s not to think about that. Thinking about it’s not going to do any good. Try to forget.

“Let’s go,” said Shihoru.

Kuzaku and Yume each nodded, then they turned their backs to Jumbo. In front of them were the massive orc Godo Agaja and the members of Forgan. However, they had parted to make a path for them. Kuzaku and the others would be heading for the meeting point once they went through there.

Based on where they were standing, Kuzaku, Shihoru and Yume would have to be the first to walk through the crowd of Forgan members. That made him feel pretty tense, but he also urgently wanted to get done with it.

Kuzaku led the way, with Shihoru and Yume side-by-side behind him.

The wind was weak, and the fog was neither thick nor thin.

When he passed by Godo Agaja, Kuzaku looked up despite himself. He’s huge. Too huge.

Godo Agaja glared at him, as if to say, “What?”

Kuzaku quickly looked back ahead, and hurried on his way.

Oh, crap.

His bad habit had struck again. It wasn’t a situation where it was safe to let his guard down, but he’d had to go and think about things he didn’t have to.

Focus, focus. I’ve got to focus.

I miss Alterna.

It’s six hundred, seven hundred kilometers from here. That’s far... So damn far.

Can we actually make it back...?

Come on. Now’s not the time to think about that.

“Wait...!”

Suddenly, a man’s voice echoed through the area, and Kuzaku came to a stop.

No, maybe I should run, not stop. That was the sense he got, but he didn’t have the guts to take off running.

“Commander! Jumbo! Don’t let them go!”

“Kuzaku-kun!” Shihoru called his name.

When he turned back, the one-armed man was on top of the hill. Takasagi. Had he gone somewhere, then come back? What about Ranta?

Jumbo turned to face Takasagi. “What is it, Takasagi?”

“One of them took the woman and ran! They got Ranta!”

“Huh?” Kuzaku was flabbergasted. “Haruhiro... killed Ranta... -kun?”

Shihoru gulped.

“No...” Yume was speechless.

“I won’t let you say it was all the youngster’s doing, and it had nothing to do with you.” Takasagi drew his katana with his left hand, pointing it in their direction. “Even if Jumbo is willing to overlook this, I won’t. I can’t stand being made a fool of.”

“If they withdraw, I will not lay a hand on them,” Jumbo said. “I made that promise. I intend to abide by it.”

“Well, you do that then, commander. I’ll do as I please, too. My job in Forgan is to do what needs doing, after all.”

“That is who you are. Do as you please, Takasagi.”

“I don’t need you to tell me that, Jumbo. Gudua!” Takasagi raised his katana aloft, shouting in some unknown language. Orcish, huh? “Ashuruha, udanzai! Ilda!”

“Osh!”

“Osh!”

“Kiu!”

“Kiuem!”

“Osh!”

“Osh!”

No, no, this was no good. This was bad, way too bad, seriously bad.

Kuzaku tried to say something, but no words came out.

Let’s go. We’ve gotta go. We have to go. Running’s the only option. He swung his arm to communicate what he wanted to say as he took off.

Yume took off at a dash, carrying Shihoru with her. They had been in the middle of cautiously going down the path Godo Agaja and his men had opened for them. If they had just gotten to the other side, it wouldn’t have been so bad. They were almost there. Thanks to that, the orcs and undead were coming at them from both sides. It was a pincer attack.

This is hopeless. There’s no getting away. I mean, what is this? Jumbo. Screw you, Jumbo. You said if we withdrew, you and your people wouldn’t lay a hand on us. What happened to that? Wait, am I wrong? Did he only say I, not we? Which was it? I dunno. I feel like I heard we, but I can’t remember. What the hell?

“Rah...!” Kuzaku used Bash to make an orc coming in from the left back off, then kicked him down. He needed to send Yume and Shihoru on ahead. But if he slowed his pace, the enemies would swarm around him even more. He had to keep running or things were going to get worse.

Behind him he could hear shouts and the sounds of flesh, metal, and other things colliding. He wasn’t at leisure to turn back and take a look, but it was probably the Typhoon Rocks.

Really let loose on them, he silently begged. If they didn’t, he was in trouble.

There was an undead coming at him from the right hand side, so Kuzaku used his black blade to keep him in check while also using his shield to perform a Block on an orc’s sword that came at him from the left.

Not much further, he thought. In a few more meters, we’ll have broken through. We’re almost there—but is this gonna be too tough? Will Yume and Shihoru be okay? I don’t hear screams, so I think they’re fine. But, honestly, I don’t know. I don’t have a handle on the situation. There’s no way I could.

Orcs rose up in front of him.

Not just one, two.

Ah. This—this is gonna kill me.

If it had just been one, there would be things he could do. It might’ve been possible to open a path if he’d thrown his own safety to the wind, but with two, even that was going to be tough. Forgan’s orcs were skilled, after all.

No, don’t get dispirited. I have no choice but to try. Even if I try to muster my courage, I can’t. I’m hopeless!

“Nooooooooooooooooooooo.”

Then there was a frightening voice, and one of the orcs fell over backwards. Naturally, he hadn’t collapsed on his own due to a preexisting condition. The orc had been brought down. By the demon Moira, who looked like a long-haired woman, but was clearly no human woman, and carried a frightful scissor-like bladed weapon.

“Nooooooooooo. Noooooo. Noooooooooooooooo.”

Moira wrapped her legs around the orc’s torso, reached around his neck with one arm, and stabbed the hell out of him with her scissor-like blade. That looked like it spooked the other orc.

Yeah, I know, thought Kuzaku. That’s creepy. Moira-san’s serious. It’s a good thing Moira-san’s super scary. That really saved us. Thanks, Moira-san.

“Zahh!” Kuzaku swung his black blade down diagonally at the other orc.

The truth was, continuing to defend himself with his shield as he used it wasn’t the only thing that was different about Punishment. Unlike the warrior’s Rage Blow, because he kept some of his attention on defense and didn’t swing as hard as he possibly could, it was easier to chain it into the next attack.

His first Punishment had only indented the orc’s shoulder guard, but the Bash that followed immediately after it struck his face. He slammed a Thrust into the base of the orc’s throat, then another Bash, continuing to close the distance, and when he placed his foot on the orc’s knee and kicked, he succeeded in throwing him completely off balance.

Kuzaku put all his strength into elbowing the orc to knock him down. Then, rather than move forward, he made a deliberate decision to stop where he was. “Yume-san, Shihoru-san! Go on ahead!”

“Meowger!”

“Okay!” Shihoru called.

In times like this, Shihoru-san tends to say “Okay.” I’ve always kind of liked that.

Yume and Shihoru ran past Kuzaku. Kuzaku used Block on the sword of the orc that chased them past him, made him lean back with a Thrust, and then used Bash to deflect another undead’s curved sword.

Are my hips too high? They are. Lower them. Don’t strain myself. Make big swings with my sword, but use my shield more tightly.

There.

This is the feeling.

No matter how many enemies there were, no matter how many came at him, he wasn’t afraid. He could see clearly, and block. He struck back solely for defensive purposes. That, and to convince his enemies he wouldn’t only be defending, he could attack, too. Though, in the end, it was all defensive.

Defend them.

Defend them.

Defend them.

Defend.

I’m going to defend them.

I can defend.

Moira jumped around, not finishing off enemies one-by-one, but using her bizarre and creepy moves and scissor-like blade to mess with the enemy.

What about the Rocks? Kuzaku had been able to confirm that Kajita was swinging his massive mushroom sword around and fighting Godo Agaja. He wasn’t sure about the rest, but knowing them, they wouldn’t go down easily. Though, even if they did, he didn’t care.

What was important were his comrades. Shihoru. Yume. Haruhiro. Merry.

Ranta.

Had Haruhiro killed him?

“Nuwah...!” Kuzaku used his shield to knock away two orcs at once, then turned and ran the other way.

I can go now, or rather, I need to get going, he thought.

He couldn’t see Yume and Shihoru. The fog had grown thicker again at some point. They might get split up, but the two of them would probably be fine. That was the important thing.

Kuzaku ran at top speed.

“Ahh...!”

Suddenly, he stopped being able to see anything at all.