Chapter 69:
The Return
“Well then, it’s time to head back,” Reina announced, hoping that, now that everything was through, they could make a triumphant retreat. However…
“Actually, uh, pardon me, but I’d still like us to go and clean out the orcs’ nest while we’re at it. I’m sure that we can get rid of any that are still alive on our own later, but I really don’t want to pass up the chance to do so without anyone getting hurt. Please, if you would!”
This, of course, was a perfectly natural request from the dwarf in charge of the village’s defenses. Furthermore, it was still within the terms of their contract… Besides, now that they had gone and smashed up the ogres’ lair, it made little sense not to do the same with the orcs. The Crimson Vow had already acknowledged this fact, but apparently it had slipped Reina’s mind.
“I guess we did talk about that. I just forgot, okay?”
Reina appeared to recognize her mistake, even issuing something that sounded vaguely like an apology… Ever the tsundere, she was.
With the dwarves as their guide, the group proceeded to the orcs’ lair.
…It was over in an instant.
Well, first Pauline wafted a “weak red breeze” over them, which Mile then blew away with a strong gust, after which the dwarves fell upon the orcs immediately. The Crimson Vow relegated themselves to the status of observers, there only to step in if things got particularly dangerous for the dwarves. It was important to leave the dwarves with at least one feather in their caps before this whole thing was through. A well-earned victory was a useful thing to have in one’s pocket.
Blessedly, the Crimson Vow did at least have a general concept of how to be considerate of others.
“Mile, what does your search magic say?” Reina asked quietly so that the dwarves would not overhear.
“We should be good. I’m not picking up signs of any more aberrant orcs or ogres. I’m getting faint reactions from something that might be normal monsters much farther away, but the dwarves should be able to deal with those. They’ve been able to make a living in these mountains for centuries, after all.”
That seemed to put Reina at ease. It would leave a bad taste in their mouths to hear after the fact about some dwarven villagers being slaughtered in a monster battle shortly after they left.
And so, they made their triumphant return to the village. It was a complete and utter victory: the hordes of powerful monsters had been vanquished, with every dwarf returning home unharmed and alive. The whole village was immediately abuzz and set about preparing for a feast.
“I knew ye could do it! Good work out there, lads!”
The chief and the other villagers heaped praise on the members of the reclamation team. The youthful dwarves, particularly those who were probably still single, blushed as a group of young ladies—who to the Crimson Vow appeared no older than children—lavished the men with compliments.
Though they might have been youths, they still had the faces of grizzled old men sporting full, rugged beards, so there was something a tad unsettling in seeing them blush in the face of girls who looked more like children.
“Hey, it’s that girl!”
As Mile watched, she noticed the young girl who had greeted the caravan when they first arrived at the village. And there was an older-looking dwarf, talking to her bashfully…
“Wait a minute! Isn’t that girl ten years old?! Keep your hands off of—”
“Now now, give ’em a break,” the combat leader said, patting Mile on the shoulder. “I don’t know how this looks to you, but that’s his childhood sweetheart. He’s fifteen, so there’s only five years between them.”
“What?!”
The members of the Crimson Vow froze in shock.
After a short while, the village chief made his way over to the Crimson Vow.
“You’ve my deepest thanksh for all yer help. Those fellash told us all ’bout what you girlsh did. You really shaved our bacon. We’d like ye to celebrate with us this evenin’. Naturally yer friendsh who stayed here t’ protect us and them merchantsh’re invited, too.”
“Of course! Thank you very much!” Mavis replied on behalf of the party as the other three bowed their heads in thanks.
“Hey! Nice work, girls. I’d ask you how it was, but I bet words couldn’t do it justice.”
“Well, it seems like they wiped out those orcs and ogres at least, and far as I can see, all of the dwarves made it back without injuries… Though, of course, that goes without saying.”
Their wording could have been more polite, but Wulf of the Devils’ Paradise and Vegas of the Fellowship of Flame offered the Crimson Vow provisional congratulations.
“Gotta apologize, though. Here we are raking in our pay and all we did was loaf around the village… Y’all are the ones who set that up for us, too—we really didn’t do anything at all.”
“That’s not true!” said Mavis. “It’s only thanks to you that we were able to take all the able-bodied dwarves from the village with us and that we could take our time exterminating the monsters without having to worry about everyone back here!”
That was Mavis for you, ever the sweet-talker. Of course, her praise was more than just lip service—she truly meant what she said. This came across in her voice, and the other hunters returned her heartfelt smile.
That evening, the feast—which was really more of a village-wide festival—was held in the village square. The threat of the village’s destruction had been eliminated, and by all reports, the chances that they would be seeing those dangerous monsters again were very low. This was more than sufficient cause for celebration.
Thankfully, there was plenty of food and wine to go around, and if this wasn’t the time for indulgence, then when would be? Every family brought dishes from their own household, and there was meat roasting in the square. The doors of the village storehouse were opened, and the ale and spirits produced there in the village were served up in excess. Normally, as the production of liquor was a group effort for the village, when it was sold, the proceeds went into the village stores, but tonight, the drinks were free.
Of course, celebration or no celebration, not a single person brought out the liquor they had purchased from Mile. Those were bottles to be consumed sip by sip, with reverence, all on their own. There was no way they were going to drink it all down in one sitting—or allow others to share.
Though the dwarves seemed bighearted on the surface, deep down, they really were a stingy bunch.
“So, you girls gonna have a drink?”
“Oh, hello, Captain!”
“No way!”
After finishing off his first round of food and drink, the leader of the reclamation team made his way over to the Crimson Vow. It was as Reina indicated: though the members of the Crimson Vow were masters at shoveling food into their mouths, they had not drunk a drop.
“All the drinks you have are way too strong and burny! We can’t drink that stuff!”
Sure enough, none of the members of the Crimson Vow—and particularly not Reina—were at the point in their lives when they could enjoy the taste of alcohol. If they drank, sure, they might feel good for a little while, but they would feel sick and vomit swiftly after. When they ate, they stuck to sipping sweet, weak fruit ales, and they drank neither for the love of drink nor for the sake of getting drunk. The spirits served here, which were high in alcohol and stung the throat, did not suit their palates. The idea of letting alcohol rest for years to age and mature had yet to take hold in this village.
“Oh, that’s right!”
Though the leader had come over expressly to speak with the Crimson Vow, they had already spoken plenty on the trek home, so there was little to discuss at this point. Both sides had already offered their thanks and exchanged other humble words, which did not bear further repetition. However, Mile remembered something that she had been wanting to ask.
“Um, could you tell me if there are any legends passed down through the dwarves?”
***
“Thanks so much!”
The legends that the leader was able to tell her about were more than what the fairies knew but less than the elder dragons. In other words, it had been pretty much the same as what the elves and beastmen were able to tell her.
The content of the legends were relatively tame, without the awkward declarations of their race being the “chosen people” that had turned up in the stories of the elves and the demons. Instead, the dwarf leader narrated a simple tale of how dwarves, elves, humans, beastfolk, and demons would all have to combine their powers for the sake of the world’s future. The general gist was most similar to that of the elder dragons’ legends, and the contents were more or less the same as what she had heard from all the other races…save for the humans, among whom such legends had been lost.
Clearly, preserving knowledge was a challenge in a world such as this, where cheap, mass-market printed materials were an impossibility—especially for those races with shorter life spans, for whom the cycling of generations went at a much quicker pace.
Why, at this rate I’ll have to write the books myself, and then I can become a librarian like I always wanted! Well no, maybe not. I need to give it my all as a solitary author, bringing the tales of Earth to this world with my altered Japanese folktales…
“M-Mile, what’s going on? You’ve suddenly got this weird smile on your face,” Mavis asked, worried.
“Oh, uh, n-no, it’s nothing,” Mile dithered, waving her hands wildly.
As she looked around, she noticed that there seemed to be a great number of dwarven women participating in the festivities today.
Well, I guess that makes sense as this is a festival… Then again, we barely saw any of their women outside at all before yesterday. They seem like friendly folks, but maybe they’re actually pretty guarded and don’t want any humans laying eyes on their wives and daughters… Maybe they’ve lightened up a bit then? Or are they only allowing it for now because of the festival?
She glanced to the side to see the merchants deep in some kind of discussion with several of the villagers. Judging by the bright looks on the merchants’ faces, the talks were probably going well. Naturally so—there was no helping that the quantity of goods the dwarves had to sell was smaller than usual, but now that the problem had been dealt with, the prices would return to normal, which would help to smooth over negotiations. Starting with the next trip, trade would return to normal.
The village’s profits this time around would be half as much as usual, but they likely had some in savings just in case of such an eventuality. As they were already self-sufficient in terms of food, with the items they imported being largely luxury goods, they would just have to hold back a bit this time.
All the loose ends had been tied up.
Now that her stomach was full to bursting and her hands were free, Mile took her juice in hand and assumed a posture that would suggest she was deep in thought.
Finally, she could begin the cross-examination.
Nanos?
………
If you don’t start talking, I’m just going to keep asking.
UNDERSTOOD. A PROMISE IS A PROMISE. EVEN IF THAT PROMISE WAS ONE OBTAINED BY UNDERHANDED, COWARDLY MEANS, TAKING ADVANTAGE OF ANOTHER’S WEAKNESS…
What are you talking about?! Don’t be sore losers!
………
What the nanomachines then conveyed to Mile was as follows:
TO TELL YOU THE TRUTH, THAT RIFT WAS CONNECTED TO A PARALLEL DIMENSION, AND THE ORCS AND OGRES THAT LIVE THERE BEGAN—
I already heard that from Mavis!
AS AN EFFECT OF THE PREVIOUSLY ENACTED EXTRA-DIMENSIONAL MAGIC, THE BARRIER BETWEEN THE DIMENSIONS HAS BECOME EASIER TO—
I heard that from Mavis, too!
……
……
………
………
…………
…………
Finally resigned, the nanomachines began to tell her some new information.
FOR THE MOST PART, THE SITUATION IS LARGELY AS LADY MAVIS CONJECTURED. THOSE ABERRANT ORCS AND OGRES COULD BE CONSIDERED THE ORIGINAL STOCK FOR THOSE VARIETIES THAT EXIST IN THIS WORLD IN THE CURRENT DAY. UPON RELOCATING TO THIS WORLD, WHERE THEY COULD LEAD A TRANQUIL EXISTENCE, THE MONSTERS GRADUALLY BECAME WEAKER. CONVERSELY, THOSE THAT REMAINED IN THE HARSH ENVIRONMENT OF THEIR ORIGINAL WORLD, WHERE EVERY DAY IS A STRUGGLE FOR SURVIVAL, BECAME STRONGER AND STRONGER.
What? Their original world…? So orcs and ogres are…
YES. ORIGINALLY, THEY DID NOT EXIST IN THIS WORLD. NOR DID MANY OF THE OTHER MONSTERS THAT NOW RESIDE HERE.
Now that she thought about it, this made sense.
How many eons could it take for a large-scale life-form to evolve and take root as a species? If you branched off at the monkey stage, you might one day end up with ogres. And then, if a monkey and a pig were to crossbreed… Er, would two species that distant even be genetically compatible?
Then again, this was a world that had experienced the collapse of civilization countless times. What if animals protected in a zoo began to proliferate after the fall of civilization? No, no, they would probably be wiped out well before that by people who believed them to be dangerous. Civilizations didn’t collapse in a day, after all…
So, why was this world so overrun with monsters?
Perhaps this was the explanation.
There had been a mass migration of dangerous creatures from another world who had then taken root here. The animals native to this world were still called “animals,” with the more dangerous among them known as “brutes” or “beasts.” Whereas the dangerous life-forms that mass-migrated from another world, and began to breed, were called—
INDEED, THOSE ARE THE CREATURES KNOWN AS MONSTERS.
………
So which came first?
WHAT?
The nanomachines were momentarily puzzled at Mile’s question. Apparently, they were not constantly monitoring every single one of her thought impulses.
What I’m asking is: Did the monsters proliferate because society collapsed? Or did society collapse because the monsters started proliferating?
……
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…………
“M-Miss Mile, would you like to dance with me over there?”
“Huh?”
A hero appears!
“The dance has just started, so if you’d like to…”
Wh-wh-wh-whaaa? Is this some kind of pick-up artist?!?!
From the way he was speaking, the man was probably a young one. At least, that’s what one might assume. However, he had a beard, and a gruff voice, and the face of an old geezer…
“U-um, th-th-the only dances I know are the Oklahoma Mixer and the Mayim Mayim…”
As Adele, Mile had only lived the life of a young noble’s daughter up until around the age of eight, so she had not been instructed in dancing.
And then there’s the dance of joy you do when the random path of the pachinko ball ends up in your favor—or wait, that’s just a happy dance!
Mile was incredibly flustered. Of course, the dwarves’ dances were not the same as those of high society gatherings, but rather, something more along the lines of what you might see at a square dance or Bon Festival…
“Miss Mile, you’re so strong and so modest in size that I can barely even believe you’re a human… Plus, when you eat a lot like that, you plump up. You really are beautiful…”
“Mind your own business!!! Anyway, I’m only thirteen! I’m still a growing girl! I’m gonna have a hot bod before you know it!!!” Mile raged. This was the second time now that she had been told she looked like a dwarf, and it wasn’t getting any easier to hear. “Anyway, if that’s what you’re after, then go and bother Reina! She’s already sixteen, so she’s not gonna grow another inch!”
Overflowing with rage, Mile pointed to Reina, voicing the words that should never be uttered.
“Wha—?!”
Rrrrrrrrm…
The dwarf who had extended the invitation to Mile had already vanished. Apparently, he had a well-honed sense of danger.
Of course, if that were truly the case, then why had he bothered speaking to Mile in the first place?
“Mile, what did you just say?”
“Uh…”
While Mile tried desperately to apologize to Reina, Mavis also found herself accosted by dwarven men—a great number of them.
Of course, these were very obviously geezers, both in appearance and actual age.
“Please! You’ve gotta let us see your sword!”
“Huh…?”
Indeed, they were the smiths who had taken part in the reclamation team and watched her slice through the aberrant ogres as though they were tissue paper. By now, word had spread so that all the village craftsmen gathered around her.
“Please, we just want to see it for a few minutes. Oh, please!”
“Just a peek! Just a little peek!”
“Just the tip is fine!”
The volume and tone of their requests left Mavis at her wit’s end. She looked in Mile’s direction, but as she appeared to be engaged in some disagreement with Reina, asking her for help seemed out of the question.
“Hrmm…”
Mavis grumbled in displeasure, but she was a people pleaser—no match for the dwarves and their desperate petitioning. If Mile explicitly denied the dwarves’ requests, she would have no choice but to obey, but Mile was currently not available to refuse them.
“Please, oh please!!!” the men all shouted as one.
“A-all right, then…”
If she wasn’t on the battlefield or facing down an opponent, Mavis could be incredibly weak-willed.
She removed the sword, scabbard and all, from her hip and handed it to the dwarves. Thankfully, she had not used her dagger in front of them, so they made no requests to see that. They probably had paid it no mind at all—a backup weapon was reserved only for emergency use, and one wouldn’t normally relegate a pricey, legendary blade to such a role.
“Hm hm hmmm…”
One of the dwarves drew the sword from its scabbard and stared at it intently, while all the others around him scrutinized the blade at point-blank range.
“The main component appears to be steel, but there are other metals mixed in as well. I can’t figure out the origin of this reddish-brown hue that gives it its golden tint…”
As the dwarf holding the sword spoke, the others nodded.
“And what was that radiant effect that we saw? Judging by its appearance, it doesn’t look capable of the cutting ability that we saw—what was that about?”
“You’re right! Hmm…”
Just as in the case of the dagger, the sword’s cutting edge, which had been sharpened by the nanomachines, had already been cloaked in a camouflaging coating… Thanks to this precaution, the blade looked exactly the same as before it was magically sharpened—like nothing more than a normal, reliable sword that you could swing to your heart’s content.
“Where did you get this? Who forged it?”
“Didn’t you say that you just wanted to look?!” Mavis grumbled, annoyed that the dwarves had gone back on their word. However, her complaints were of no concern to the group of smiths.
“What is it made of? What’s the material ratio?”
“What temperature was it fired at?”
“It was definitely glowing that one time, wasn’t it? What was that?”
Mavis found herself surrounded, facing down a maelstrom of needling questions.
“Ah, uh…”
She would have kept her cool in the midst of a swarm of ogres, but dealing with a horde of greasy old dwarves was far outside of her comfort zone.
“I-I have no idea! I’m not the one who forged it!!!” she screamed desperately, and even the dwarves suddenly seemed a bit sorry, as though they knew that they might have gone a hair too far.
“Th-then at least tell us where you purchased it from!”
Of course, being sorry and giving up the chase entirely were two separate matters, and these men would gladly sign away half their life spans for a chance to grasp a new, previously unseen technique that might bring their skills to grand new heights.
“Uhh…”
It was around then that Mile and Reina finally took notice of the commotion. Matters concerning Mile and Mavis’s abilities were matters that the Crimson Vow were sworn to conceal.
“That’s confidential information for hunters. Please don’t inquire any further,” said Reina to the dwarves surrounding Mavis, even as she ground her knuckles into Mile’s temples.
Hoping to further confuse the matter, Mile added, “That is a family secret, passed down through a noble line. If you keep pressing her to make her reveal her secrets, we may have to take appropriate measures.”
Hunters’ confidentiality.
A noble family’s secret.
And the “appropriate measures” to conceal that secret…
This could mean nothing but an immediate gag order. The dwarves may have been total fools for their love of smithing, but they were not so foolish as to fail to recognize that.
“………”
They understood exactly what the girls were saying. After all, the existence of a sword such as this could overturn world order. If they knew of such a weapon, the army, nobles—even the Crown would stop at nothing to get their hands on it. The Crimson Vow would be dragged in and forced to reveal the sword’s secrets.
Of course, if they played their cards right, the power of the sword meant that the Crimson Vow would never lack for employment and could maybe even earn titles. Therefore, the dwarves thought, there must be a reason why they contented themselves with being mere hunters. There was no telling whether it was by their own choice or as a result of some familial decree, but it was no surprise that it was taboo to speak of the sword’s origin.
Nevertheless, there was no way that they could possibly forget the existence of this superior blade, now that they had come to know of it. The looks of distress upon their faces made this clear—as well as the fact that this was not a disappointment that would pass, allowing them to wake up the next day and give their all to their work in the smithy.
Guessing this, Mile reluctantly added, “I suppose we have no choice. It’s clear that you won’t be able to focus on your work unless I tell you a little bit about the blade… However, you are absolutely forbidden to speak a word of this to anyone else. If you let even one syllable slip, we’ll have no choice but to silence everyone who has heard what I am about to say. If you can accept those terms, I will continue. Anyone who does not wish to hear should leave now—and keep your ears shut.”
“Really?!” the dwarves cried excitedly.
There was not a single dwarf who left Mile’s side. On the contrary, all of the smiths in the village gathered around—along with the fighters whose jobs had nothing to do with smithing, the huntsmen, the woodcutters, the miners, the farmers, and everyone else. Only the mothers seemed to keep their distance, perhaps for fear of their young children accidentally letting something slip.
“First of all, the power you witnessed did not come from that sword,” said Mile.
“What?” After this collective exclamation, the square fell still. In the midst of the silence, Mile turned to one of the men who had been on the recovery team. “Would you lend me your sword?”
While he did not understand the reason for her request, the dwarf did as he was asked, unhooking the scabbard from his waist and handing it to Mile.
“What you saw was a type of magic. Like so.”
She hooked the scabbard onto her left hip and drew the sword smoothly with her right hand, gripping the blade near the guard between the thumb and pointer finger of her left. Then, she slipped her fingers down the blade.
The sword began to glow with a golden light. Sure enough, it was the same gimmick as the “Light Beam Blade” technique she had used in the fight with Gren of the Roaring Mithrils. The body of the blade remained as it was, covered on the outside by a magical coating. The magical blade that formed over it was only a molecule’s width in thickness.
A clamor of shock rose from the dwarfs.
“Mavis, a stone, please! As big as you can lift with both hands!”
“On it!”
As directed, Mavis lifted a suitable rock nearby and threw it handily in a smooth parabola toward Mile.
“Secret Technique, Stone Splitting Blade! Hiyaaah!!!”
Mile swung the sword as lightly as though she were cutting through cloth, and the rock fell to the ground, split cleanly in two.
“Th-the rock… A real, live rock. The sword cut right through it…”
“A clean cut, midair, with no support, without even fracturing… I-Impossible…”
“Th-th-th-th-that was one of our swords… A sword that I-I forged… Oh…oh my gods…”
“You can increase the cutting strength of any sword by putting a bit of magic on it. As I have just demonstrated, even the blades that you forge can withstand a move like that when strong magic is applied. They could even compete with Mavis’s sword.”
“Whoooooaaaa!!!”
A cry of joy rang out, and all the dwarves began to chug their ale. The festival was becoming more and more disorderly…not that it wasn’t already an excuse to drink to begin with.
Meanwhile, the members of the Devils’ Paradise and the Fellowship of Flame only stared at Mile, not believing her explanation in the slightest.
Well, it’s not a lie, thought Mile. It’s all the nanos’ doing, so it is basically a magical effect. The sharpness of the blade and everything are all thanks to magic! Yep! No doubt about that!
After the banquet, the representative of the merchants approached the guards to inform them that they would be prolonging their stay.
“We’ve made progress in our negotiations about purchasing the dwarven metalwork. We’ll still only be able to buy half as much as usual, but we should be able to get the pieces for their original prices. So we were hoping to extend our stay until the day after tomorrow…”
Staying on longer meant more pay, so the hunters gladly accepted.
The following day, while the merchants did their buying, the Crimson Vow did a bit of sightseeing around the village. Mile took a particular interest in inspecting the forges and distillery, as well as making inquiries of the girls of the village in the interest of gathering intel.
“Mile, what are you going around asking all the dwarven girls about?” asked Reina.
“That’s a secret!” Mile replied. Clearly, she was hiding something.
The truth was that Mile, who suspected that her own stature was at the median of humans, elves, and dwarves, had become curious about the growth rate of dwarven girls and busied herself gathering the pertinent information to calculate the average dwarven height.
Even though having this information would make no difference in the long run, it felt like something that she simply had to do… A maiden’s heart is a complicated thing.
***
“Let’s roll out!”
With a signal from the merchant leader, who served as the transport manager for the caravan, the group left the dwarven village of Glademarl behind.
If nothing unforeseen occurred, the route and campsite selection would be left up to the merchant leader’s discretion. If they were attacked by monsters or bandits, their plans and movements would be determined by Wulf in his capacity as the guards’ leader. From here out, every decision they made would require weighing pros and cons, and considering the safety of cargo, money, cart, horses, and even humans. In this last category, their own lives would be the chips with which they wagered.
Even we might one day be the leaders of a guard force. In fact, if it’s a little caravan of just two or three wagons, we might even take it on solo, meaning that day could come as soon as tomorrow. Wulf is the veteran here. We need to watch him carefully and learn from what he does. Joint missions are always an opportunity for novices to learn, after all. As the leader of this optimistic bunch of rookies, I need to toughen up, and—
As Reina straightened up, deep in thought, Mavis called out, “Um, you do know that I’m still the party leader, right?”
“Oh. Did I say that out loud?”
“I could see it on your face!”
“Hold up!”
Sometime after noon on the first day of their journey, one of the merchants who was doubling as a driver shouted out to the rest. When everyone stopped their carts and gathered around, they found that one of his wheels had somehow gotten stuck in a ditch. Such occurrences were not at all rare on a sorry excuse for a road such as this, which saw very little traffic.
The cart might have been able to break out of the ditch, given enough oomph, but now that it was stopped in place, it was going to take an immense amount of force to free it. Though the cargo it carried was not especially voluminous, it was dense, and the cart was weighed down by its contents. Though the merchants had been able to obtain little in the way of metalwork, the dwarves were not going to pass up the chance to turn a profit, no matter how meager. As a result, they had decided to hawk every little thing that they could—from woodwork to surplus wheat and anything else they could find lying around. The merchants, in turn, bought it all up, feeling very much like charity workers.
Of course, even if it felt like charity work, they would still turn a profit. So, it wasn’t really charity. Plus, it would do neither side any good to leave a bad taste in the other’s mouth. It was all business, pure and simple. The merchants were simply sticking to their creed: “Even if all you have to carry is air, then carry it with favor and reputation.”
Mind you, they intended to dump the excess goods at the first sign of danger…but that was none of the dwarves’ concern.
“This is hopeless,” said one of the veteran drivers. “Even if ya hitch up all of the other horses and get ’em to pull real hard, the wheel or the axle might just break off… We’re gonna have to remove all the cargo to lighten the load.”
The merchants appeared weary. Then, they looked to the hunters.
“All right then,” Wulf sighed. “Handling your cargo ain’t part of our contract, but neither is wasting our time. We’ll do it for free…but half of us have to stand aside as lookouts. We’d be a laughingstock if we got wiped out because all the guards were busy unloading cargo when we were attacked. Real embarrassing for the wives and kids we left behind.”
At Wulf’s direction, half of the hunters went to help.
“All right, let’s have the Crimson Vow, one of the Devils, and two of the Fellowship stay behind, while the rest of you—”
“Just a moment, please!” Mile shouted, interrupting. “Would you all mind leaving that to us?”
“Huh…?”
The four merchants raised their voices in surprise, but the other hunters were no longer in a position to be shocked.
“Go ahead. Let’s see it.”
“Thank you!”
Ignoring the perplexed merchants and drivers, Mile issued a command to Mavis.
“Mavis, use your body strengthening, True Godspeed Blade mode. Prioritize increasing the strength of your muscles, tendons, and bones, and suppress your muscular output some. If you grab a weak part of the cart, it’ll break, so be sure to find someplace that can withstand the cart’s weight… Actually—you two, one of you stick with Mavis, please, and one with me. Give us some directions!”
Two of the drivers nodded, splitting up between the girls. A third stayed behind to inspect the condition of the wheel that had gotten stuck.
“All right, that’s perfect! Now then…”
Mile began to silently incant a gravity spell as a precaution. This way, if they were to force the cart and snap the axle, it would only be a waste of time, not a crisis. However, no one outside of the Crimson Vow could ever know that.
Release eighty percent of the force pulling on the body of the cart!
“Okay, Mavis, please lift it, slowly and gently!”
“Got it!”
And then…
Shoop!
“Wh…?”
Thud!
“………”
“Both the wheel and the axle look okay!”
“………”
“So, should we get going?”
“………”
“Um…”
“………”
“So, uh…”
“………”
This is creepy!!!
A very strange atmosphere had permeated the caravan.
As the Crimson Vow busied themselves preparing dinner that evening, the atmosphere had more or less returned to normal.
“Seriously, though. You’re ridiculously strong.”
Wulf and the others had already given up on understanding Mile, but Mavis, who was a sword-wielder like they were—and who seemed to be a kindhearted woman with plenty of common sense—was different. Learning that she, too, was one of Mile’s ilk seemed to have left quite an impression. They’re all monsters!
Mavis guessed at their silent thoughts and ached to reply. I’m not! Don’t look at me the way you look at Miiile!!!
For her part, Mile was able to guess this from Mavis’s expression.
“Is that how you look at other people?!?!”
Silence fell again. The calm they had worked so hard to restore was beginning to sour again, ever so slightly.
“By the way, Mile…” started Mavis, a bit suspiciously.
“What’s up?”
“Why didn’t you just use earth magic to dig out a ramp for the cart wheel or to fill in the dip in the road? That seems like it would’ve been a lot safer and less risky…”
“Er…”
At Mavis’s words, Mile froze, her face twitching.
“Moreover,” Pauline added, jumping in ruthlessly, “I would have thought that you could have just put the cart away in storage temporarily and then taken it back out a little farther down the road.”
“Gwah!”
At this, Mile crumbled. It made sense that the merchants, the Devils, and the Fellowship, who were not accustomed to Mile’s magical abilities, would not have thought of this, but how in the world would it not have occurred to Mile herself?
The others looked on with pitying gazes, and the awkward atmosphere from before faded once again, for better or worse…
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