Log Horizon - Volume 8 - Chapter 5.3

3 
“Elegant Act!” 
Isuzu, who’d sent a Nightshade Servant flying with a close-range attack skill, detected a counterstrike through the delicate wave that surrounded her body like a cape and spun to dodge it. 
The evasive maneuver had opened up a line of fire, and a ray of flame traveled down it. The Nightshade Servant was already wounded, and after a moment’s delay, it turned into iridescent bubbles and vanished. 
“What on earth are these things?” 
“I don’t know. They sure showed up suddenly, though.” 
Isuzu and Rundelhaus had been making for the outskirts of the town, where Minori and the others were waiting. That said, Minori had said that the battle was still far off, so they’d taken her at her word and helped with the evacuation in town, with the result that they were quite late. While they were doing this and that, for some reason, the northern side of town seemed to have been overrun by confused fighting. 
For the moment, there weren’t many enemies, and very few of them were big ones, so even with just the two of them, they were managing somehow. 
If they stuck to defeating individual enemies, a Bard-Sorcerer combination had solid attack power and wasn’t bad at all. 
There was also the fact that Rundelhaus had ended up in high spirits after a look at Isuzu’s face and was fighting even more energetically than he usually did. Having anyone see her disgraceful, tear-swollen face was the last thing Isuzu wanted, but she chased the shame out of her mind. There was too much to think about, and she was in the middle of a battle. 
The truth was that, although Isuzu had treated Rundelhaus harshly to camouflage her irritation, she hadn’t even begun to prepare herself. She’d blown off steam, and it was true that her feelings were lighter now, but the question she’d agonized over all night wasn’t that simple. It was the first “real” problem Isuzu had ever faced. It wasn’t the sort of thing she could produce an answer for on demand. 
For that very reason, she couldn’t just leave it alone, either. She had really, seriously worried about it. Many wishes went to and fro in her heart, messing her up inside. The truth was that even she wanted to take that first step. 
Admitting it to herself was scary. 
Even now, when she was fighting, when she let her mind go that way, the thought made her want to scream. 
In a word, Isuzu was an ordinary high school girl. She was a supporting character, the type you could find anywhere. 
She knew she’d be a laughingstock if she tried anything overambitious. Her skinny, pipelike arms and legs, her obstinate hair, and the freckles that wouldn’t disappear no matter how well she cared for her skin all seemed to be warning her to remember her place. 
“Honestly! What a mess!” 
“What’s wrong, Mademoiselle Isuzu?” 
She’d accidentally grumbled to herself out loud, and Rundelhaus, ahead of her, turned around. 
“No, it’s nothing—ack!” 
“Hm?” 
“That’s dangerous, Rudy. This way, over here!” 
Isuzu pulled Rundelhaus’s arm, taking him over to a ruined building off to the side. Rundelhaus’s MP had fallen to 30 percent before she’d realized it. Cautiously looking from side to side, the pair went into the leaf-covered ruin. The walls on the second floor had fallen, leaving only pillars, and they sat down with their backs against the rubble. 
“I wonder if we’ll be okay here, enemy-wise.” 
“I didn’t sense any Nightshades around this building. I’d wager we’ll be all right for a little while.” As he answered, Rundelhaus pinched his chin between his fingers, looking pensive. 
Of the twelve main classes in Elder Tales, Sorcerers had the greatest firepower. However, in exchange, they consumed MP ferociously, and no one could have called them fuel-efficient. Even if you ignored the demerit of increased aggro, the more attack power they wanted, the faster they ran through MP, so it was absolutely necessary to take short breaks like this between battles. 
Since they had Isuzu’s support song, Rundelhaus’s MP would recover in five minutes or so. That said, even if it was only for a few minutes, getting this type of rest was pretty difficult. If a monster found them, the break would be interrupted and they’d end up fighting another battle immediately. If that happened, his MP would hit bottom, and they might even be wiped out. 
Even if they were only resting for a few minutes, it was best to make sure the area was safe and, if possible, to get out of sight. 
Since they’d done lots of this during group training, the pair was very used to it. 
“Mademoiselle Isuzu, are you having any trouble? You aren’t out of breath?” 
“Mm. I’m fine. What about you, Rudy?” 
Rundelhaus was a show-off, but he was a Magic Attack class, and Isuzu, who was a Weapon Attack class, had better stamina. Rundelhaus knew this, so even as he asked, he was consciously getting his breathing under control. He might not look it, but he was very competitive. Isuzu knew that he trained on his own, in addition to their basic training. 
In the distance, explosions and ruptures echoed. They were sounds unique to large-scale magic. 
They strained their ears to listen to them. It was the noise of the battlefield. 
Apparently things had turned into a complete melee. In addition to the ocean side, pillars of flame were going up all over the north side of the town, and the ring of steel echoed. Since the Nightshade Servants were the same size as humans, they could break through the front line, and the wyverns used their flight capabilities to lay waste to the battlefield. Defense had been impossible from the very beginning. That was the only way to put it. 
Through the party chat, they heard Touya’s scream. 
“People live here!” 
At Touya’s voice, she felt Rundelhaus clench his fists. Minori’s brother was right: Saphir was a People of the Earth town, and lots of them lived in it. 
Rundelhaus had become an Adventurer, but he hadn’t stopped being a Person of the Earth. Isuzu knew this. She’d known it during the defense of Choushi, too, but she hadn’t really understood it. 
Back then, all she’d been worried about was protecting Rundelhaus’s life. When Rundelhaus tried to dash out recklessly, she’d thought that he was a young man who didn’t think nearly enough, but she’d been wrong. He’d been trying to protect the People of the Earth, his people. He’d been trying to fight, not as a fool who didn’t fear losing his life, but as a hero who didn’t hesitate to risk it. 
After all, that was the type of Adventurer Rundelhaus had wanted to become. In the village of Choushi, he’d been an Adventurer even before he signed that contract with Shiroe. 
“Spread out! Use the buildings as shields!” 
“Why?! Aren’t you our protectors, sir Knights?” 
“Shut up!” 
The screams from the avenue were far too ghastly. The Odysseia Knights seemed to have finally abandoned even the pretense of defending the town. It was clear that, now that the fighting had grown this confused, they didn’t have the leeway to protect what lay behind them. 
She couldn’t tell them to protect it. The Knights weren’t being paid to be guardians. They’d just happened to be in this city; they stayed all over, in all sorts of places. Isuzu didn’t know, but they probably had goals of their own. It wasn’t okay to selfishly look up to them and expect things from them, and to demand their protection because an enemy had come. Not even if Adventurers were immortal. 
However, next to Isuzu, Rundelhaus’s fists were trembling. He was biting his lip, glaring at his remaining MP as it crept back up. 
It’s not suicide. Nobody dies in this world. That means there’s no such thing as suicide. We want to go back. 
Isuzu heard that yell across the telechat. 
It was a lone man’s scream, and it seemed to pierce her heart. It was a straightforward confession of homesickness: He just wanted to return to their old world. Isuzu wanted to make it happen for him. However, at the same time, she thought, What an awful thing to say. People—the People of the Earth—certainly did die in this world. 
Isuzu could still hear the sound of the surf from the night of the gig. 

Hadn’t the hands that had waved in response to her clumsy song belonged to People of the Earth? 
When they’d cheered, what had their shining eyes been trying to tell her? 
“Mademoiselle Isuzu.” 
“Rudy?” 
The words that had slipped through his gritted teeth were forceful, and they seemed to be bearing up under something, but they cut off after just one phrase: “Even so, we’re…” 
What had he wanted to say? Even so, we’re alive, or Even so, we’re here? Isuzu didn’t know. In all likelihood, Rundelhaus didn’t know, either. 
His eyes were as wide as if he were glaring out across the battlefield, holding tears he couldn’t hide. 
Rundelhaus, who’d held his head high even in mortal combat, and who’d smiled a little even as he was about to lay down his life, was clenching his teeth and fighting back tears. Those tears weren’t for himself. They were tears for the injustice the People of the Earth were enduring. His comrades, who had been attacked by calamitous monsters, had counted on a group of Adventurers who had coldly abandoned them, and they were being hurt. That wasn’t all: The Odysseia Knights didn’t even see the People of the Earth as human. 
Rundelhaus’s fists were clenched in anger. His people were fragile, but that didn’t make it all right for Adventurers to treat them any way they pleased. However, Rundelhaus didn’t even have anyone to file a complaint with. Even now that he was an Adventurer, that hadn’t changed a bit. How many more times would he feel like this? Probably too many to count. 
Even so, he wanted to stand tall. Wanting to live courageously had nothing to do with strength on the battlefield. It was a problem of how one lived. Isuzu thought that all People of the Earth probably shared that wish. 
That’s right, she thought. 
I was…lucky, wasn’t I? Lucky to be born on Earth, lucky to be Dad’s daughter. 
After all, even when I was sad, even when things hurt, I had lots of songs. 
Isuzu shut her eyes tightly, asking herself a question. 
The feelings that had rampaged all last night, the ones she’d kept a lid on, finally overflowed. 
Isuzu had been saved. 
She’d been saved repeatedly. 
By sad songs in sad times. 
By fun songs in fun times. 
By brave songs when she was feeling brave. 
They’d flooded the world around her. 
This place is just too awful, isn’t it? 
I really have to complain to the gods about this. Things should never be this bad. No songs? Only forty-two of them… I can’t stand that. 
She’d never even imagined that such a place existed. 
Ever since she was born, it had seemed natural for songs to be there. They’d been so close to her that she hadn’t realized how fortunate she was. 
Not being able to sing when you want to cry? That’s not right. 
Not having any songs for when you’re angry is just too sad. 
Having no songs to use to tell off the gods isn’t fair. 
Sunrises, clear blue days, crimson evenings, and starry nights. All the places Isuzu had walked and every moment she’d lived through had overflowed with music. 
Sounds had been everywhere, like countless shining stars. 
The People of the Earth…don’t have that. 
Isuzu threw down the spear she’d been holding. It rolled away with a metallic clatter, but she didn’t even look at it. Instead, she readied Flying Dolphin, which she’d been carrying on her back. Her tears made it hard to see, and she scrubbed them away with her sleeve, then strummed the strings roughly. 
Isuzu’s favorite instrument emitted a menacing tone. 
She was sure it felt the same way she did. 
Flying Dolphin was shouting: This sucks. I don’t believe this. It’s wrong! 
It was wrong to have your feelings betrayed, to be unfairly kept from appealing, to be unable to smile, to not have music. The People of the Earth should live gallantly. Being weak or strong had nothing to do with it. That was what songs were for. The People of the Earth should sing at the top of their lungs and tell off the Adventurers. They should protest this misguided world. 
Isuzu was just a high school girl, but what was wrong was wrong. Whether she was an imposter or not didn’t matter anymore. 
“Mademoiselle Isuzu…?” 
“We’re going, Rudy.” 
“Huh?” 
Her heart was on fire. She thought, I’ll never forgive this. 
She was going to pick a fight with the gods who’d only made a bare handful of songs before they cast this world aside. It was the biggest resolution Isuzu had ever made. Something she loved and had always cherished had been held in contempt. She swore she wouldn’t stop, never, not until she or the gods were completely exhausted and dropped in their tracks—no, not until the gods cried and apologized. 
There was absolutely no need for Rundelhaus to clench his fists and be at a loss for words. 
“To go fight.” 
“Fight?” 
Startled, Rundelhaus echoed her words back at her. Ignoring him, Isuzu looked down over the wide avenue through the ruined building’s crumbling floor. Even the idea of using the stairs was irritating to her now. 
The first stroke was a warm-up chord. 
“Mademoiselle Isuzu?!” 
Like a glissando sliding down the strings, Isuzu leapt out into the dusty air. 
Rundelhaus, Touya, Minori, Serara. 
Isuzu herself. 
They didn’t have a single reason to hang their heads.