4
The very air in the forest that was home to the problematic stream had a peculiar quality that repelled people from entering. It was unclear whether this had anything to do with the spring making people disappear or if it was something innate to the forest. Either way, some malevolent force had spread through it—that much was clear.
“And here we are, brazenly marching into it anyway,” Al quipped quietly, stepping on the grass and straining his eyes through the thick trees and brush around them.
About thirty minutes after departing Ladrima, the party arrived at the forest and began their investigation as they tromped through the grassy earth. Naturally, since their dragon carriage couldn’t enter, they were exploring on foot.
Al took the lead, clearing the path with his liuyedao as they walked. Every footprint his sandals made in the grass was followed by the two behind him. And still…
“Don’t ya think we should have left Schulty behind in the carriage with the driver?” Al asked, turning only his head slightly to look at the two—Priscilla, who was marching through the forest in her high-heeled shoes without hesitation, and Schult, who was nervously hopping along as he clung on to her arm.
Schult looked apologetic at Al’s question, but Priscilla glared at Al and said, “Nonsense. If we left Schult behind in the carriage, what would be the point in bringing him in the first place? I realize you’re eager to be alone with me in the dark, but stop thinking with your lower half.”
“My suggestion didn’t come from there! If anything, it came from the upper half!”
“D-don’t worry! I will do my absolute best not to burden the Princess or you, Sir Al… Oh! I’m falling! Hmmf! I’m okay now!”
“Good boy, Schult. You have my praise.”
Unlike Al, whose suggestion was ignored, Schult looked awfully happy to receive Priscilla’s praise despite nearly taking a tumble. And Al wasn’t at all jealous. Probably not. Maybe.
But that aside, their slow progress and the tension in the air were big problems for Al. He wasn’t even all that interested in the spring, yet all those little things were starting to pile up and stress him out.
“Wouldn’t it be faster to just set the forest on fire and just get rid of the spring entirely?” Al asked.
“Your ability to keep spewing nonsense astounds me, Al. For a start, what would we gain by solving the problem that way? That’s as good as a loss.”
“Is this a competition?”
“I consider all matters a competition. You fail to realize this and keep losing—a loser has that stench on him before he even enters a fight.”
After her fiery retort, Priscilla folded her arms and said, “For that matter, I love fire. Setting things on fire really gets me hyped. However, setting fire to a forest just because people like to approach a certain spring is an incredibly uncouth reason to start a fire. Simply ridiculous.”
“Your hang-ups never make sense to me, Princess… But understood, milady. We march on.”
Realizing that arguing was a waste of time, Al returned his focus to clearing a path with his liuyedao. They were proceeding along a path that did not exist. It was the sort of overgrown forest where people could easily go missing, which only raised further doubts that the spring had anything to do with it.
The forest wasn’t all that large. There wasn’t much reason to bother going into it—a fact that was self-evident, as there wasn’t even a proper path.
As Al cut a trail through the underbrush, Priscilla muttered under her breath to dispel her boredom. “Lured into the forest by a spring, eh… What a cliché.”
Al couldn’t agree more. “Sure is. The first guy who disappeared apparently saw some pretty lights dancing in the forest. His curiosity got the better of him, and he wandered in… That would explain why a bunch of other poor saps followed in his footsteps, hoping to be reunited with the dead.”
“‘Hoping to be reunited with the dead’—this is steadily becoming even more cliché.”
Al sensed something amiss in Priscilla’s words. Boredom, anger, dissatisfaction, cheer, joy—Priscilla’s ever-changing moods were always difficult to grasp, but none of those emotions could be heard in the sentence she had just muttered.
It sounded more like envy or jealousy.
“Princess…is there some dead person you want to see?”
“None come to mind. The only person in my life who died recently is my beloved husband.”
“Um, he’s not dead yet. If anything, you could say he’s on the mend.”
“The man needs help using the toilet. He might as well be dead.”
There were no signs of Priscilla’s strange mood in her openly hostile reply. Al ignored it, shrugged, and turned his attention to the silent Schult.
The conversation they’d just had might have been a bit too hard-core for a little kid. And sure enough, Schult was green in the face as he remembered the man mentioned in the conversation.
“Oh, Master…he was such a bad person…wasn’t he?”
“The opposite of justice is another brand of justice—that’s how the saying goes, at least. But even if we’re being generous, Lyp was no saint. He was definitely a villain. Not that we can call ourselves saints, either.”
Lyp Bariel was Priscilla’s husband and the true lord of the dominion. He had plotted to use Priscilla as a puppet to gain control of the kingdom. Unfortunately for him, Al and Schult unmasked his plot, then his psyche was destroyed, leaving him a shell of a man.
“A whole lot of people cheered when he became a vegetable. A testament to our princess’s popularity. Poor bastard.”
“But I…I have been praying that Master’s spirit at least can rest in peace.”
“Again, he’s not dead…”
Al was going to elaborate, but when he saw the hands clasped in prayer in front of Schult’s earnest little face, he decided not to say anything. Lyp could have at least one person mourn him. Hopefully, that would give him a slightly better deal in the next life.
“Oh, knock it off, both of you. Praying for that ancient bag of bones is a waste of time.”
Priscilla did not seem to appreciate Al overlooking Schult’s little prayer. She grumpily raised the corners of her eyes, shook Schult’s head as he hung on her arm, and said, “If you have the spare time to concern yourself with such trivial matters, I suggest you read that book instead.”
“Er, oh, yes, Princess. I have been memorizing it! Umm, the first part was…”
“Dude, don’t bully simpleminded kids…”
Al commented on her childish attitude, but Schult quit his prayer and immediately went back to memorizing his book. With a silent Lyp, you poor bastard in his heart, Al slashed through the next thick branch in his way.
“By the way, Al, you seem oddly resistant to the idea of meeting the dead.”
“That’s ’cause they aren’t there. Once you die, it’s over. You can’t meet the dead, and trying to meet them is wrong. It’ll only bring you misery and bad luck. Don’t you agree, boss?”
The spaces between the trees were very narrow. He cut a notch into a tree and kicked it. It refused to go down, so he kicked it a second time. He was surprised it was so stubborn.
“Our conclusions may be along the same lines, but the way we reached them is completely different. You cannot meet the dead—I agree that this is true.”
“……”
With a third dull crack, the tree finally broke. He lifted it with his shin and kicked it out of the way to make a path.
“Don’t tell me, Al… Is there some dead person you’d rather not see?”
When those words reached him, he ground his teeth, tensed his leg muscles, and sent the tree flying way farther than he needed to. The violently tumbling tree shook the canopy as Al sighed long and hard.
Man, this chick really doesn’t pull any punches when she pushes people’s buttons, does she?
“Listen, Princess. Do you honestly think I can participate in such a serious conversation?”
He forced his heart to stop racing, offered up an easygoing remark, and looked over his shoulder. But his words didn’t reach Priscilla. Schult, either.
He was surrounded by mist. And before he realized it, Al was all alone.
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