Nozomanu Fushi no Boukensha (LN) - Volume 13 - Chapter 1.5

Intermission: At a Certain Castle...

The boy sitting atop the throne spoke with staccato emphasis, wearing a mild-mannered smile. “So. Do you. Have. Any. Excuses?”

The throne, jet black in color with no ornamentation, had no visible seams, as though it had been carved from a singular piece of stone. It seemed too plain for a king—a description that was also true of the expansive room. Dreary blacks and deep reds dominated the space, and not a single extravagant decoration was present.

The only exception was the boy’s hair, which was a beautiful gossamer white, its radiance akin to the sun.

However, in the boy’s eyes resided a profound darkness. The object of his observation—a single man—knelt far below the dais which held the throne, trembling. He was clad in the smart attire of a gentleman, though his cane and top hat had been laid next to his right hand, which was pressed against the ground.

If Rentt had seen this man, he would have declared him to be the one who had attacked him in the royal capital. Rentt would’ve added that he’d been unable to even put up a fight against him.

Yet nonetheless, the man now knelt before a boy who looked many years his junior, trembling. Though he had been directly addressed, his throat refused to work, producing only quiet, choked groans instead of fully formed words.

Needless to say, this situation was unusual.

The boy atop the throne examined the state of the man before sighing lightly and softening his smile. “I’m not angry, you know. I’m just asking why you were there. Do you understand?”

And then, all of a sudden the boy was behind the man, placing his right hand on his shoulder. The man twitched in shock—he hadn’t even noticed the boy move—and his trembling intensified. Yet he did nothing else—he could do nothing else.

The boy put his left hand on the man’s other shoulder and brought his mouth close to his ear. “I’ve said it many times, haven’t I?” he whispered. “‘Don’t set foot into the Kingdom of Yaaran unless under my orders.’ I know you’re only a ‘grandchild,’ but surely even you can grasp that.”

Realizing that he could no longer get away with remaining silent, the man answered. “Y-Yes. My ‘parent’ Yanshuf gave me instructions of that na—”

Before he could finish, the man realized that his head was flying through the air. He felt no pain—higher class undead could regulate their own physical senses. Pain in particular could be shut off completely, and since one never knew when one might be attacked, the man tended to keep his sense of pain blocked at all times.

Nevertheless, the force of the impact could still be felt even without pain. A strike potent enough to decapitate should have been detectable even before it made contact.

Yet the man had not noticed a thing until his head was already flying. His surroundings spun wildly for a moment before his severed head was caught—and it need not be said by whom. There were only two people present in the room, after all.

“So why can’t you follow the instructions you are given? And then there’s the matter of how easily I decapitated you. Did Yanshuf instruct you to shut off your sense of pain too? Pain is important for recognizing danger, you know.” The boy’s tone was light but regretful. Gradually though, his words took on a more dangerous edge. “You simply cannot obey your betters—and that is why you will die here today. Do you understand?”

Fear lanced through the man’s heart. He was going to die? Here?

How many years had he existed as an undead? In the beginning, he’d retained his fear of death, but it had faded to nearly nothing over time. Because he’d become stronger. Because the undead couldn’t die. Because nothing was a danger to him anymore.

For those reasons, the man thought he’d conquered his fear of death already.

Yet now, he was realizing that he had not done so. It was simply that he encountered fewer opportunities for death to seize him, and so he was forced to think about it far less often.

But the boy currently gripping his decapitated head could kill him—easily and carelessly, with no effort required. The man understood this, and so he was indescribably afraid.

No! I don’t want to die...

Amid the mayhem of his emotions, the man found it in himself to speak. “Y-You have my sincerest apologies, my liege. I went to Yaaran because the influence of the Demon Lords has been growing in recent years. I was convinced that we needed to do something to keep them in check, and since Yaaran remained almost untouched by other powers, I thought perhaps there was something I could do there...”

The man’s field of view flipped back the right way up as his head was spun and plopped onto the ground. Had his desperate words gotten through?

The boy was crouching in front of him, his expression still showing a gentle smile. Yet...the man sensed a greater menace emanating from it now. When the boy spoke his next words, he understood why.

“The Demon Lords, hmm? Those puny whipped dogs aren’t worth the attention. Still, I suppose I can recognize that you had our interests in mind. If you’d been acting for personal gain, that would be a different story.”

Evidently, the boy did not think highly of the Demon Lords. It appeared that bringing their name up had been a mistake.

“I think I shall reduce your punishment from execution to becoming an art piece for this castle,” the boy continued. “Lucky you. Your decapitated head shall be the concierge at the door from now on. Ah, I suppose that means you won’t be needing your body. Why don’t you say goodbye to it while you have the chance? Watch with me. This is a moment to be commemorated.”

The boy carefully shifted the man’s head around so he could watch as he raised a hand toward his body, clearly about to cast some manner of spell—one of destruction, if the boy’s words were anything to go by.

In any other circumstance, the man’s body would be able to regenerate—but it wouldn’t be out of the question for this boy to possess a method of true destruction. And from his demeanor, he was utterly serious.

“S-Sto—”

“No, I don’t think I will. Here I go... Bye-bye.”

Light burst from the boy’s hand, and all the man could do was watch. It was over for him. He had been consigned to an eternity of watching the scenery outside the castle from a position by the door.

When the light faded, however, the man’s body was still there—as well as someone else standing in front of it. Someone whose shoulders were heaving from the effort of casting a frighteningly potent shield spell.

However, the spell soon crumbled to pieces, and the caster—a young man with beautiful features—sank to his knees. There was a sheen of sweat on his brow, but it did nothing to mar his attractiveness.

“Well, if it isn’t Yanshuf. Come to sacrifice yourself for your precious ‘child,’ have you?”

Indeed, the young man was Yanshuf Fahalah, “parent” of the man and “child” of the boy.

“With all deference and respect, my liege, I beseech you to reconsider Tavas’s punishment,” Yanshuf said. “He is a loyal servant.”

“How strange. Wouldn’t a ‘loyal’ servant have obeyed my instructions?”

“That...was due to my lack of supervision. Please...”

“Will you die in his place, then?” The boy raised his hand in Yanshuf’s direction.

Yanshuf bowed his head. “By your will,” he responded. “This body of mine is yours to do with as you see fit, down to its last drop of blood.” There wasn’t a single note of reluctance in his voice.

The boy smiled and turned to Tavas’s severed head. “See? That is loyalty.”

“I-I...I under—”

“Do you? Well, out of consideration for Yanshuf, I suppose I’ll let you off the hook—this time. You won’t get another chance.” Then, an idea appeared to occur to the boy. “Ah, I know. Since you’re apparently itching to act, shall I give you a task? One in Yaaran, as you so dearly wanted.”

“What would you have Tavas do, my liege?” Yanshuf asked. “As you well know, he is still inexperienced.”

“Oh, nothing too difficult. It just so happens that the mining city of Welfia will be holding two events of interest soon: a Silver-class Ascension Exam and a blacksmithing contest. The former is of no importance to us this time, but the latter most certainly is. The number of blacksmiths able to forge San Arms has been decreasing, after all.” The boy turned to Tavas. “You will head to the contest and find blacksmiths with promise to bring into the fold. I assume that is within your capabilities?”

“I-If that’s all...” Tavas choked out.

“Our liege does not assign easy tasks,” Yanshuf warned. “If you let your guard down, you will die.”

After all that had been done to him, Tavas could do nothing but obediently accept. “I understand. I shall take the utmost precautions.”

At some unknown point during the conversation, the boy had returned to his throne. He looked satisfied. “Very well—it appears you’ve learned your lesson. That will be all. I’m expecting great things from you.”

Tavas directed his body to pick up his head and stick it back on before kneeling. “I hear and obey, Lord Arc.”

And with that, Yanshuf and Tavas vanished from the throne room.

◆◇◆◇◆

After returning to the village and giving them the full story, explaining that no more skeletons would be appearing, things went exactly as Rivul predicted. The headman declared that a party would be held that night, and everyone had pulled together to begin preparations for it.

Part of me wondered whether it was okay for them to be doing this. Emergency repairs on the most vital areas had been finished, but the village was still a long way away from a full recovery.

Still, maybe this made for a nice stopping point. After being attacked by skeletons and suffering damage to property and loss of life, the villagers had been forced to completely abandon their home at one point. Yet they hadn’t given up—instead they did everything they could, and so they had been able to return.

And now, they had no more monster attacks to worry about. From today on, their future was bright—so in order to really drive that belief home, they needed a party.

I understood how that felt, which was why I gratefully accepted their offer to participate. The food was surprisingly delicious, given that the place hadn’t recovered enough for people to return to their daily lives yet.

Rivul must have noticed my surprise. “We live out in the middle of nowhere, so we’re used to inconvenience,” he explained. “And while the menu might just be hunter’s food and nothing too complex...well, we had good ingredients to work with.”

“Oh, so this is game that was caught today. No wonder it’s so good,” I said. “Is it all right to be using so much, though? Shouldn’t you stockpile some?”

“Maybe, but if there’s any day we can be forgiven for cutting loose, it’s today. We’re celebrating how we took back the village with our own hands. Not so long ago, we thought we’d never be able to return at all. Compared to that, tomorrow’s concerns...well, we’ll sort them out when we get there. And it’s all your doing, Rentt. I honestly don’t know how to thank you.”

“I keep saying you’ve thanked me more than enough already.”

I’d already been on the receiving end of every single villager’s gratitude—multiple times. I hardly knew what to do with it all, let alone any more if I got it. Besides, I’d only been carrying out the particulars of the job I’d taken.

I supposed I had thrown in a few freebies, though.

“By the way, Rentt—will you be leaving tomorrow?”

I nodded. “That’s the plan. This job took longer than I’d expected, but now you’re all safe for the foreseeable future. There’s nothing more I can do here.”

“Really? You’ve got so many talents, though. Your carpentry, for example, was decent work.”

At times like these, all the skills I’d picked up in the process of becoming an adventurer came in handy. But while I could have assisted in the village’s efforts, I didn’t have that much time.

“If I’m ever in the area again and you need an extra pair of hands, I wouldn’t mind. But I’ll be busy for a while from here on out, so I want to get back to Maalt as soon as I can.”

“Yeah? Have you got another job?”

“No, I’ll be taking the Silver-class Ascension Exam. It’s not for a while still, but I need to set some time aside to go over my fundamentals. The skeleton knight I fought was stronger than I’d pegged it to be—guess I need more training than I thought.”

“It looked to me like you won without any trouble, though...”

“Far from it. I can’t say it was a close call or anything, but that skeleton knight had real skill. I don’t know for sure since I don’t run into them much, but if that’s what they’re all like on average, then passing the Silver-class Ascension Exam might be a lot to ask as I am now. Skeleton knights are supposedly beatable if you’re somewhere in the upper end of Bronze-class to the middle ranges of Silver-class, so the fact that my fight was a little touch and go has me worried.”

The one I’d fought this time had seemed to be on the higher end of how strong skeleton knights could be, putting it around the middle of Silver-class. Of course, there was also a chance it had been an irregular specimen that was even stronger.

However, having been a Bronze-classer all my life, I lacked experience fighting skeleton knights, so I couldn’t say for sure. If the one I’d fought had actually been around the upper end of Bronze-class to the lower end of Silver-class, then I was probably going to fail the exam.

I didn’t know what the Silver-class Ascension Exam was like, since I’d never taken it before, but a certain degree of fighting ability would definitely be a requirement. After all, that was the number one thing an adventurer needed to have.

Once you accounted for the possibility of a written test or shady tricks like I’d encountered in the Bronze-class exam, then someone who had trouble fighting a skeleton knight didn’t have a chance.

That was why I needed to do an extensive review of myself before the exam, including a close look at my fundamentals. As things stood, I was lucky that I had a wealth of experience fighting against many kinds of enemies, but that also meant that I hadn’t had the time to drill my basics as thoroughly as I would have liked. The powers I had gained were all rather unique, and I had focused more on finding ways to use them rather than mastering them. That wasn’t a bad thing, but now that I had a rough idea of everything I could do, the next step I needed to take was practicing so that I could utilize all my capabilities to their fullest extent.

Take, for example, the sword Clope had made for me. I’d learned what it could do through my practice trials with it, but what I needed was to get a complete grasp on things like the right time and place to use its abilities and how much energy it consumed.

Once that was done, I also needed to go through some exhaustive trial and error testing to see how I could incorporate its abilities into the swordsmanship style I’d learned. There was a lot that went into the process, but it would all be necessary if I wanted to wield it smoothly when push came to shove.

That was how I planned to spend my time until the Silver-class Ascension Exam, and if I wanted to get started, I needed to get back to Maalt as soon as I could.

I explained as much to Rivul, who nodded in response. “I’ll be sad to see you go, but it’s not like you can stay here forever,” he said. “We’ll do our best to rebuild the village too, so give everything you’ve got for the Silver-class Ascension Exam, Rentt! We’re cheering you on!”

“Hey, that’s my line. I’ll come back one day once I’m Silver-class—so treat me to something when I do, okay?”

“Gladly!”

And with that, my job there came to an end.