"Wolves, Gather In My Forest" V4 Chapter 1 - Priestess of the Forest
"Here — This is the last one."
With those words, Cleao was casually smacked on the tip of her nose and let out a small yelp, falling on her butt. They were in the middle of the forest, with the sun shining through the trees. The huge trees, which were several meters high, stood all in a row — they weren't far from the road, but far enough to not be noticed by travelers. The smell of the forest was pleasant as midsummer approached, but he could see a grim look on Cleao's face as she fell — wearing a deep purple shirt and short athlete's spats that she'd just bought in the last town, as he recalled.
Cleao glanced at him, clicking her tongue at the fact that her new spats were now stained with dirt — but Orphen laughed lightly and met her gaze.
He was a cynical man, a black-magic sorcerer of about 20 years. His hair was dark, as were his eyes, and he had a medium build. At first glance, there just wasn't much that distinguished him. He was dressed almost entirely in black, and on his chest was a silver pendant of a one-legged dragon entwined with a sword. His eyes were piercing — perhaps more so, they were stern, enough that one could almost see them as a constant glare.
He continued to boast, swinging a thin branch in his hand.
"I won the bet — Any complaints?"
"No... not really."
Cleao agreed bitterly, deep in her throat. She was seventeen years old, a girl with waist-length blonde hair that shined in the sun. Her blonde hair and blue eyes that seemed to reflect the color of the sky were the most common traits of nobility on the continent, but she wasn't a noble. She did mention at one point, however, that there was a trace of nobility in her ancestor's blood a few generations ago.
She sheathed her sword, returning it to the scabbard, and stood up, dusting the dirt from her pants. Cleao's mouth twitched in irritation.
"What the hell! I just don't get it."
"I don't get it, either."
He rubbed his bandana-covered temples, tossing the branch behind him as he continued.
"A match is a match, right? As per the terms. 10 rounds, if you're able to hit your opponent with the chosen item, you get one point — the loser then has to do one thing for the winner, whatever the winner says."
"How could I forget? I just got beat in every game straight!"
Cleao kicked the ground with the toe of her sneaker as if stepping on a stool.
"What I'm trying to say is that there's a suspicious difference in our abilities! Something's not right. I think I should've been able to get at least one point."
She glared at him as she said it, then continued.
"Hey, Orphen, I'm pretty confident with a sword—"
But Orphen interrupted her.
"You shouldn't confuse me for a student-level swordsman. I'm still a sorcerer from the Tower, remember?"
Saying that, he held up the pendant on his chest. The emblem of the dragon with outstretched wings was a sign of someone who'd learned black magic at the Tower of Fang, the pinnacle of continental sorcery. In other words, it was proof that you were one of the best sorcerers.
"I've undergone training for everything from combat training using weapons to self-defense against armed opponents, learning reflexive situational judgement and — well, there's more, but it's not like I haven't been studying for years or anything."
"... In other words, you tried to sweet-talk me, a pure-hearted person, into a game that you knew you couldn't lose, and then used your empty promises as a shield to achieve your dastardly plan."
"You've started to sound a lot like that Vulcan bastard, you know that...?"
Orphen half glanced at her, and Cleao responded by sticking her tongue out.
Sighing, he continued.
"You're the one who started the fight."
"I understand that."
Cleao spat, puffing out her chest in a challenging manner.
"Come on — I'll pull weeds, do your dishes, just say what it is you want!"
"No... I'm not after anything in particular. Not from you."
In fact, Orphen was reluctant to ask the girl for any kind of favor. She must've sensed it — a twitch, the girl's eyebrows moved suspiciously.
"... I don't understand. Are you saying that I'm not capable of doing anything for you?"
"To be blunt, yeah, that about sums it up."
Orphen answered easily, and almost turned back toward the carriage that was parked on the side of the road. Cleao quickly ran around in front of him. She thrust her slender finger at his chest in an accusatory manner.
"What do you mean by that!?"
Orphen felt the muscles in his cheek tighten as she asked.
"What I mean is, the last time I asked you to fix my torn shirt, what did you do!?"
"W-what? That wasn't my fault — You and your phallic-driven philosophy, you were making fun of me, spewing some chauvinistic drivel about how I should be doing the sewing because I'm a woman—"
"Where did you even learn to talk like that!? I only asked you to do some chores for me because you were complaining about there being nothing to do in the carriage! Don't change the subject!"
"I'm not changing the subject!"
"Well then! Let me give you a more specific example — Why did you go out of your way to use the handkerchief, which I'd kept in the back of my luggage as my most prized possession, to patch my clothes!?"
Upon hearing this, Cleao retracted her finger with a startled expression on her face. She replied with a slight change of color.
"I found it by accident!"
"Bullshit!"
Orphen immediately shouted.
The cloth was a hand-stitched handkerchief that had been given to him as a birthday gift from a sorceress whom he'd loved like a sister when he was a boy. The fact that she'd taken the trouble to choose a small, neat handkerchief when there were plenty of other scraps of clothes he didn't need, made Orphen wonder if Cleao must've had some kind of ulterior motive.
"When I asked you to take care of Majic, when he was sick with a cold, you tipped the water basin over on his pillow and soaked his blanket and sleeping bag! And when I asked you to help me find a book at the library, you suddenly shouted "Found it!" before tearing the page out of the book and bringing it to me!"
"Everyone did that at our school library! I'm sorry!"
"Sorry, yeah right! Oh yeah — the worst was when I asked you to buy me food, and you came back with some peddler saying 'I'd like to collect the money for the goods this young lady bought.' — What the hell were you thinking buying a urinal that'd ward off evil!?"
"That was a once-in-a-lifetime mistake!"
"What's a once-in-a-lifetime mistake? There are plenty more just like it! Hey..."
Orphen suddenly dropped the attitude and grabbed Cleao's shoulders.
"Tell me the truth — You're doing this on purpose, aren't you? Huh?"
Cleao sounded upset.
"You don't have to say it with tears in your eyes...:"
"Well it makes me want to cry. Why do we have to yell at each other like this ever single day..."
She held up a finger.
"People who try to truly understand each other often clash, my father said so ❤"
"Why, what a beautiful notion!"
His hands trembled as he spoke. Cleao, however, looked away and clapped her hands together, as if she was trying to divert his attention.
"Oh — right, or was it 'a happy life is all about a happy mess'?"
"I rather enjoy a peaceful life..."
Orphen muttered bitterly. With his usual gesture, he put a hand on Cleao's blonde head. Looking up at him, Cleao spoke.
"Oh, don't sound so exhausted."
"Whose fault is that, I wonder..."
"It takes a lifetime to prove someone's guilt — and often when you finally do, the person you're trying to prove guilty decides to kill you. My father died, like, three weeks after telling me that."
"That's enough... It's a shame that I didn't get to meet your father when he was still alive."
Orphen said, almost venomously, and dropped his hand from Cleao's head. While pushing the girl's back, he began trudging toward the road. Cleao, perhaps sensing (on her own) that the atmosphere was growing tense, spoke up in an unusually cheerful tone.
"Don't be so depressed. You must be tired lately, right? — I know! Since I lost the bet, I'll give you a massage."
"... You?"
"What, it's a painfully good deal, shouldn't you be happy?"
"Painful, huh... I bet a massage from you is more like a poor attempt at acupuncture than anything..."
"Shouldn't — you — be — happy!?"
Cleao looked over her shoulder, her twin eyes shimmering. Orphen pushed her face away with his hand.
"Ah, yeah. Happy. So, soooo happy."
He said in an unenthusiastic tone, then suddenly stopped to wonder something. He felt uneasy, for some reason, and asked the girl who was walking ahead of him.
"By the way... If you won, what were you going to order me to do?"
"Hmm? Nothing important, really. You see, the inside of our wagon looks a little dreary, right? I thought the interior would look great if we decorated it with a stuffed Guancha's head. You know, a Crusher Beast? I figured I'd ask you to go get one for me."
"... And you're offering me a massage? — I think there might be a slight deficiency between the two..."
Orphen mumbled. Cleao only replied with a simple "Huh?" In the end, Orphen clearly realized that it'd be futile to ask her to have a little more self-awareness.
They were in the last unexplored region of the continent — They were in Valhalla, the Fenrir Forest.
"Well, it's no surprise when you think about it — It's a huge forest, after all."
He said to himself, holding the thick paper map in his hand. The map was a topographical map of the continent, showing Kiesalhima and the surrounding areas. This so called Fenrir Forest was an area that divided the continent into east and west, occupying up to 20% of the continent's total area.
"All kinds of beasts and strange life forms live there—"
He read the comment in the corner of the map out loud. The boy had bond hair and pale green eyes, with a well-proportioned face, but still had noticeable charm. He wasn't yet fifteen, and dressed all in black, with a black shirt and leather trousers, which he knew didn't suit him very well. But for now...
(Well, it'll look good on me sooner or later.)
He was optimistic. Someday — maybe — when he became a full-fledged sorcerer.
"Legend has it that the goddess also dwells in these lands, and they say that she's protected by a powerful race of dragons..."
He looked up as he continued to mumble, glanced around the surrounding forest — it was a deep, but vibrant green — and gently breathed in.
And—
"Huh?"
He raised his voice without thinking.
"Is that a spring?"
There was no river nearby — he'd avoided walking near streams since it was too dangerous. So, there must be a spring somewhere.
He waded through the dense trees and undergrowth until he came to a spring that suddenly popped into view. It was cool and still, not a single ripple disrupting its surface. It was also more of a small lake than a spring. A little below the surface of the water the bottom was covered with waterweeds. The blue of the sky blended in with the greens of the lake's floor, creating a strange hue.
He approached the water's edge and quickly traced the surface with his finger. The surface, formerly unblemished, now rippled with gentle waves. Amused, he tried to peer into the water. At that moment—
Thud.
Something fell behind him. As he turned around, he saw a large snake, several meters long, lying right there on the ground. It'd fallen — from the top of the tree.
A chill ran down his spine. Somehow, he still raised his hand and slowly opened his mouth.
"Nice to meet you."
The serpent, not necessarily in response to the boy's greeting, lunged at him without a moment's hesitation. In the green of the forest its dark, scaled body drew a clearly defined line through the air.
Reflexively, he drew his hands together and held them at his chest. He breathed in — and instantly exhaled. At the same time, he chanted.
"I release, the Sword of Light!"
The thermal shockwave shot straight out in front of the boy's eyes, and just as he'd aimed it, pierced the serpent's lower jaw, causing it to burst into flames. The snake's body bounced backward, blown back by the blazing heat wave. The boy watched the headless creature slam into the trunk of a fallen tree, but he still didn't let his guard down — he waited until the snake's body, convulsed by the impact, stopped moving entirely, then he let out a sigh of relief.
"I guess this forest is dangerous after all."
His tone certainly didn't sound like it had been all that dangerous, even though he'd been pretty afraid. The first thing he did was wipe the sweat from his forehead, and then, as if suddenly realizing what he'd just done, he tried to reenact his movements after the snake had attacked him.
"Like this, turning around, — I release, the Sword of Light! And..."
He stuck his hand out one last time, then smiled.
"Okay, Okay. I'm glad I'm able to respond like Master can, now. I just have to remember that."
He nodded in satisfaction, then looked around again. It was quite dangerous to use heated spells in the forest, but this was a damp summer forest, so it wouldn't catch fire that easily. Even so, if it did burn, it would burn mercilessly.
As he thought about it, he heard a voice.
"Sorcerer..."
"Huh?"
The boy exclaimed with a blank look on his face — and turned toward the voice.
Standing at the edge of the spring, a short distance from where he was standing, was a woman, staring at him, or perhaps it'd be more appropriate to call her a girl. Her age was probably about the same as his. She had strong-willed eyes — but somehow, that strength was—
(Like the strength of something that's been cornered. Like... a wounded beast—)
He didn't know why he'd come to that conclusion. Whatever it was, it wasn't what had surprised him.
The girl staring at him had a sense of awe in her expression. If she smiled, she'd be more charming, he thought. She straightened her curly black hair and pushed it behind her. Her outfit was strange — made of a thin fluttery silk wrapped around her body like a yukata. It was so oversized that even a strong breeze could reveal what was under those clothes. It was neither appropriate nor functional for being this deep in the forest.
(Shrine Maiden clothes...?)
He figured, but he also thought that was even more inappropriate for such an unexplored area.
As he was wondering about it, the girl suddenly asked him a question.
"You're a sorcerer, aren't you?"
"Huh? Oh, uhh — Well, no, not entirely. I'm just an apprentice."
He replied in a panic. The girl — shrine maiden? She tilted her head a little. It seemed she was looking at the carcass of the snake he'd blown up. He could see her frowning.
"So much... power, and you're only an apprentice?"
"Actually, it's pretty rare that I successfully pull off a spell. My master is even more extraordinary."
"So... You do have a companion..."
She mumbled something along those lines, her gaze seeming further away now as she fell silent. The boy scratched his head, feeling a little nervous at the thought.
(Somehow... this girl speaks as if she's from some other world. She even kind of looks it, with those clothes.)
With this in mind, he asked her.
"S-So uhh, you — Oh, what's your name?"
"Fiena..."
"That's a nice name."
After his haphazard attempt at flattery, she giggled — though there was no change in her expression aside from the small snort of laughter.
"Thank you. What's your name?"
"Majic."
"Are you related to the nobility?"
Fiena gave his hair a curious look. Commoners weren't usually born with blond hair.
"No, my family has nothing to do with nobles. I was just born this way."
He figured nobles probably didn't use phrases like "I was just born this way", but it was how he'd always explained it when people asked. Most people would just agree with him.
Fiena started walking toward him. Majic, for the time being, decided to approach her as well.
She spoke as she walked.
"... Why are you here? This is back country. It's not a human world."
Majic replied, looking at the thin silk around her shoulders, which fluttered through the air as she moved.
"I was going for a walk, but I got lost."
He folded the useless map and stuck it in his pocket as he talked. Fiena suddenly stopped at a distance, just far enough that she could reach out and touch him.
"Is that so... Then, I'll show you the way to the road. These woods are dangerous. People... have strange dreams here."
"Thanks — but wait, what was that about dreams?"
Majic parroted back, stopping in confusion. She just shrugged her shoulders, but didn't answer.
"I want to ask you something."
Majic folded his arms and asked in a casual tone.
"What are you doing out here in the woods?"
She answered immediately. As if she'd been waiting for him to say it.
"My power is rooted here in this Forest. I can't leave."
"... What?"
Fiena continued with a straight face.
"I can use my power because I'm in the Forest. Just like you just did."
"You can do such things?"
Majic asked, and she simply nodded her head.
"Yes. I'm... controlled by a certain power."
"Heh ... So you're a shrine maiden after all."
Majic said in amazement as they walked through the forest together. In the most popular religion on the continent, the faith of the Wyrd Sisters, there were no priestesses who could qualify as shrine maidens — the goddesses themselves were said to be like priestesses, dedicated to some god or another. If that were the case, then Fiena must be from some other kind of rural faith.
(If Master were here, he'd probably just snicker about it, calling it some uncivilized faith or superstition.)
To Majic, such beliefs were up to the individual. When a neurotic student went half-crazy because they thought the walls had ears, he'd slowly counseled them for eight hours straight (she'd been a female student)... Though, it was probably a little outlandish to lump her in with Fiena, who was standing right in front of him.
"Being a shrine maiden seems like a lot of trouble. I don't know about all that."
He said in a carefree voice.
"But I have power. I..."
She mumbled in an emotionless tone.
"Power, that..."
Majic crossed his arms behind his head and absentmindedly continued.
"Is it really necessary, though?"
"For me, yes."
Fiena's tone was vague. She looked at him with a penetrating gaze, and continued.
"You have friends, so you have people that you can rely on, right?"
"Well... Yeah, I guess..."
Majic agreed — picturing Orphen's face.
Fiena's eyes suddenly darkened as she continued.
"I don't have anyone. So I... decided to obey."
"What...?"
He didn't know what she was talking about — so Majic stared at her suspiciously, but followed her anyway. Then...
Suddenly, she turned around and hugging her chest tightly, continued to ask.
"You came from outside, didn't you? From far away from this place."
"Outside... You mean outside the forest? Then yeah, I did."
Fiena's eyes suddenly lit up at Majic's answer, for the first time since he'd met her. The way she turned her head caused her curly black hair to flutter.
"I wonder what it's like out there? There's a village called Solician near this forest. Have you been there?"
"No... I think that's the village we were going to go through, though. We came this way from the south."
"South — Arabalt? Kinkhall? Was there a village called Raindust?"
"Kinkhall, yeah. You seem to know a lot. About this area, I mean."
"Because I live around here."
"Hmm..."
Majic scratched his nose, strangely impressed by how quickly her tone and expression had changed once the topic changed. With his other hand, he took the map out of his pocket and unfolded it.
"We came here from Totokanta. We took the highway all the way north to Alenhatam, which... I think took us about a month and a half."
As he showed her the map and explained, he found that Fiena was moving closer. Her bare arms touched his elbow as she asked curiously.
"It looks like you're heading to the Tower of Fang. So then, do you study abroad?"
Fiena gave him a passing glance, noticing his sorcerer-style outfit. Majic shrugged his shoulders and folded the map.
"No, Master is... how do you say... traveling to collect on a debt.
And with that, he added.
"In fact, it seems that master is leading us to the Tower of Fang. He wants to register me at the Tower, even if I don't make it in."
"Why?"
"I guess there's some kind of grant there. 'It'll last a whole three months!' he says. That's just like Master, though."
When Majic sighed, seeming rather stunned by the whole idea, Fiena put her hand to her mouth and giggled.
"You mentioned earlier that your master's an incredible sorcerer."
"And I've got no doubt about that, actually."
He moved his finger from one point to another.
"I don't know a lot about him because he doesn't talk much about his past — well, he does when I ask him about it, but it honestly sounds kind of like bullshit to me. Saying things like that he was once a candidate for court sorcerer, or that he'd been first ranked at the Tower of Fang. Whatever his real past is, I doubt it's all that great."
"What if it's true?"
She teased. Majic chuckled.
"If that were true, I'd be the apprentice of the strongest black-magic sorcerer on the continent. That's too good to be true."
"I guess that's true."
She readily agreed.
"But if you're going to be his student, wouldn't it be better if it were true?"
"No way."
Majic answered immediately, thinking about how that kind of sorcerer would be way too demanding.
Fiena looked at him as he spoke.
"You don't look up much, do you?"
It seemed to Majic like, for just a moment, the distant look in Fiena's eyes returned, but it soon returned to that of a normal girl.
(I wonder if she's of two minds, the shrine maiden or the normal girl—)
Then he'd just have to address the one that was easier to chat with. Majic asked in a comfortable tone.
"You said you were from around here, err, can I call you Fiena?"
She nodded, so Majic continued in good spirits.
"Fiena, you don't live in this forest, do you? Are you from a nearby village or something?"
If so, Majic thought, he could ask Orphen to stop by that village. Only, she shook her head, once more answering in the voice of the shrine maiden.
"There's a village in these woods, but it's not on the map."
"Is that so?"
She quickly indicated the direction with her hand.
"It's a village of people who believe in the power of the forest... We call it the Great Heart."
"Great Heart..."
Majic repeated its name.
Frontier beliefs weren't literally only found on the outskirts of cities — In fact, even Totokanta had its fair share of religions, ranging from frontier beliefs to newly emerging religions. But then, there were new religions in every age and place, and even the Kimrak Church must've been a new religion some hundreds of years ago.
However, even if that were true, new religions were always given such uninspired names, Majic thought to himself.
('The Great Heart' sounds like the title of some art piece by a third-rate clay sculptor.)
Of course, he didn't say those words out loud since Fiena was right in front of him, but that was his honest impression.
Fiena continued.
"Would you like to come back with me?"
"Well, it does sound interesting..."
Majic stammered. Fiena continued invitingly.
"There aren't many girls in the village, so I'm sure you'd be welcomed with open arms."
"... Huh?"
Majic's eyes darted back and forth. Fiena continued.
"You're so beautiful that people might want you to become a shrine maiden yourself."
Those words pierced right through Majic's heart, dropping him to the ground.
"R-Really..."
He got up, dusting the dirt off of himself. Fiena saw the desperate look on his face and blushed so much that he thought she might be sick.
"Oh, you're not a girl, are you?"
"I-I've been mistaken for a girl on occasion though, since my voice hasn't changed yet."
He mumbled in a shocked tone. Fiena also seemed a little shocked, but she recovered quickly, and apologized profusely.
"I'm sorry. Even if you're a boy, though, I'm sure they'd still welcome you with open arms."
"Ugh... Well, it's interesting that there's a village in the middle of the forest like this."
Fiena smiled at Majic.
"I agree. I was a little surprised when I saw it for the first time, too. I wasn't born in that village, but I've been staying there lately. For... six months, or so."
"I-is that so?"
Majic answered as Fiena pressed. Fiena seemed to notice that Majic was getting a little more flustered, and suddenly stopped. Her face returned to the shrine maiden's.
"W-what's wrong?"
When Majic asked, she answered, looking around the woods.
"I'm sorry."
"... For what?"
Majic asked back, confused about what she was trying to say. Fiena's eyes looked sorrowful, as if she was truly sorry.
"If you run now, you might make it in time..."
As he finally understood her mumbling, there was rustling in the forest around them. With that rustling came a voice.
"Mercy is a virtue, Fiena, but betrayal is not."
"What?"
Majic, startled, spun around toward the voice he'd heard. A man was emerging from the forest, his tall body stepping out of the brush.
At that moment, the word trap flashed through Majic's mind.
"W, what does he mean?"
Fiena shook her head, but didn't answer Majic's question. Instead, she turned her attention to the first tall man who'd appeared, and spoke up.
"You should have let him go. The sorcerer said he had companions, and if we'd caught up to him when he joined the others, we would've been twice as lucky."
"Twice the virtue, huh? Don't pretend to be rational, Fiena."
The man said clearly as he approached them — or rather, Fiena — with slow steps. He was a stern-looking man with a pointy chin and a beard, his age seeming somewhere around 30 or 40. His eyes were sharp, so sharp it almost hurt him to stand in front of him. He was wearing what appeared to be a mountaineering outfit, but they were rather torn up, and a little lighter. Unlike the others, he was empty-handed, but the way he carried himself reminded him of a trained soldier.
When the man positioned himself almost directly in front of Fiena, he grinned, and continued.
"The sorcerers will be punished. Not a single one of them shall escape."
"And besides..."
Another voice sent a shiver down his spine. He turned around to see another man coming up behind him. This one was younger, looking poorer than the previous man, with a shabby shirt and a leather ranger jacket. On his jacket, where the badges should've been, it looked as if they'd been cut off with a knife. Typically, ranger jackets had tons of pockets for knives, maps, and other survival items, but this guy's jacket didn't seem to have any of that.
Instead, he had a sword belt that he used to fasten his pants, with a long sword clearly intended for battle hanging from the belt. Of course, this wasn't standard equipment for a ranger, either.
The man's smirk turned into a wide, mocking grin.
"Besides, I made sure to give your companion a proper welcome."
Then, he continued.
"This forest is ours. So, those who enter without permission, must be made to pay for it."
"The Kimrak Church shares jurisdiction of this forest with the royal family, doesn't it?"
Majic asked without thinking, but soon clicked his tongue at his own foolishness. Sure enough, the tall man in the ranger jacket turned his staring gaze toward him. Just when he thought he was about to get hit, the tall man burst out laughing.
"Hahaha! What can those guys do?"
"What do you—"
The power of the Kimrak church, in the form of churches located throughout various places, spread to almost the entire continent. Not to mention the power of the royal family — the Aristocratic Federation.
But the man made a grandiose gesture as if he had no concern of such things.
"We have Fiena."
He grasped her shoulder firmly. He could tell she was scared. Along with the man's gestures, the other men also expressed their laughter.
(What's wrong with these guys... They must be crazy fanatics.)
Majic made a simple decision. If that were the case—
(Then I won't have to go easy on them. If Master were here, even he wouldn't show mercy.)
"By the way—"
Majic spoke up in an easy-going tone.
"... What is it?"
Even though it had been the tall man speaking to Majic, it was now the guy in the ranger jacket speaking up. Well, either way, it didn't matter who answered.
Majic tried to sound casual.
"Is it okay if I scream?"
"... Huh?"
The ranger jacket guy asked in a dumbfounded tone. The tall man addressed him from the side.
"It'd be pointless to ask for help. The only people out here are our comrades."
"Well, I suppose you're right."
Majic looked up with an innocent expression.
"Even so. I just want to scream."
"You're a strange one... What exactly is it you want to shout?"
"I just want to say..."
Majic quickly approached the tall man — or rather, Fiena, who he still held onto. He took a quick breath, then looked above his head.
"Master, you moron, give me something good to eat every once in a while!"
He screamed as loud as he could, then grabbed Fiena's arm as she cowered. Majic took a few steps back, pulling her from the man's grip.
"... And what was that supposed to be?"
"It didn't mean anything."
Majic shrugged.
At that moment, a black mass fell on top of the man staring down at him.
"Aaaahhhhh!"
The men all screamed at the same time. What had fallen from the tree was a huge snake, several meters long — it'd been watching them from the top of the tree, and fell when the branch broke. Of course, it was Majic who'd broken the branch.
"Aaaahhh!"
The tall man screamed as he was pinned down by the sprawling snake. Mr. Ranger Jacket and the other men all panicked, trying to get it off. One of the men shouted.
"MacDougall Sir!"
Apparently that was the tall man's name, but it didn't particularly matter to Majic.
"Come on, let's get out of here."
Majic took Fiena's hand and pulled her along with him. Fiena's eyes widened at the sudden turn of events, and she couldn't help but ask.
"W-what is this?"
"It's sorcery. I broke the branch when I screamed just now."
Not only black-magic sorcerers, but all people on the continent who used voice magic relied on their voice as a medium. In other words, the effects of the sorcery couldn't reach places where the voice chanting the incantation couldn't reach, and the effects didn't last very long after the voice was gone. It didn't matter what the incantation was, as long as their voice could be heard, it would be effective even if it was a meaningless shout, like Majic had just used. However — if you shouted something random, it was easier to lose your concentration.
Majic pulled Fiena's arm as the men wrestled with the snake.
"Anyway, let's get out of here! It looks like there are other attackers heading to Master's location, too — Granted, given who they're dealing with, there's nothing to worry about..."
"B-but—"
Fiena looked down at her arm, which was being pulled forward, as if she were looking at someone else's.
"I, I can't—"
"What!?"
Majic exclaimed.
"My spells don't have a very high success rate! I won't be able to use that again! If we don't get out of here soon, we won't stand a chance—"
"But then, why don't you just run away?"
Fiena shouted as if she didn't understand. Majic, growing impatient, pulled her arm even harder.
"One thing I know, girl, is that if you don't get out of here, you'll be frozen forever with that shrine maiden's face!"
"... Huh ...?"
Fiena blinked, her eyes wide. Then—
Bam!
A dry sound echoed through the forest. Majic thought it was the sound of something snapping in the woods. Maybe something had hit her, but when he looked at her, she seemed perfectly fine. Fiena seemed to have some idea of what the sound was, and she paused, pale with horror. Majic, holding her arm, had stopped as well.
"What was...?"
He muttered to no one in particular, looking behind him — not at Fiena, but further back, toward the men who'd been wrestling with the snake. The snake was no longer moving — it was sprawled limply on top of the guy, MacDougall or whatever his name was. The man shoved the corpse of the heavy snake away from him and slowly got up. His face darkened, his body shaking with rage.
Majic was unable to move, as if mesmerized by something. He didn't know what it was, but there was no way that human power could crush the head of a snake.
(What is this...? This... terrifying feeling...)
Majic pondered his sense of fear, which made no sense to him.
MacDougall was glaring at him, his right hand stretched out, and he was holding something that looked like a lump of black iron. Its silhouette wasn't suitable for ceremonial tools, and the metallic form — it looked more like a piece of farm equipment to Majic. MacDougall moved just slightly.
Bang!
The lump of steel flashed for a split second. At the same time, Majic felt a jolt of pain in his left side — followed by a horrible pain that surged through his entire body. He fell on the spot without so much as a scream, his mind focused on the one point where he'd first felt the hit.
"Kyaaaaa!"
Fiena's scream sounded so far away. He was terrified, stuck in a feeling of an infinite fall, as if he were being sucked into the ground. His back should've hit the ground already, yet the feeling didn't stop.
"......"
"............!"
"......!"
Majic's vision was rapidly fading, and he was aware that this must be what it was like to faint, but he kept his ears focused. In the end, MacDougall's voice seemed completely unintelligible, like it was in another language entirely.
"............!"
"......!"
The other voice seemed to violently admonish him — Was it Fiena speaking on the other side?
That sense of falling never ended. It won't end until I die, Majic thought. But then — it probably won't be long before this sense of falling ends, I don't think.
The coldness came rushing in. During that last moment, Majic could finally hear the voices. MacDougall's was audible, that was the deep voice that he was wearing.
"Heal him, Fiena."
Her voice responded, but it was subdued, like she didn't want the man to hear her. Still, Majic could hear it.
"... I don't have to be told that!"
At the same time, something warm and comforting pressed against his cold, trembling body. That touch — was it her hand? — That heat seemed to flow into every corner of his body...
(This never-ending sense of falling — Fiena, she can't escape from this forest — That shrine maiden — ruled by some force — that snake's crushed head — and that black lump, held in his hand—)
Majic was vaguely recalling these things in his turbid consciousness.
It was a pistol.
Table of Contents
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| (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) |
Priestess of the Forest Deep Dragon Orphen's Imprisonment Fiena's Request MacDougall's Secret Rapid Slaughter |
Translation Notes
- Fiena is compared to a Miko, a shrine maiden / young priestess who performs a number of ceremonial tasks and rituals. For ease of reading we went with shrine maiden for the main story. Though I recognize that it's inconsistent, I went with Priestess for the chapter titles because it just read better in the title and Mikos are, indeed, priestesses.
- The sentence "What, it's a painfully good deal, shouldn't you be happy?" is based on the Japanese phrase "出血大サービス", which is often a gag line used to say "The service is so cheap the seller will suffer (bleed) for it!" In other words, the person making the offer will take a huge loss. It's often used in the context of, say, a used car dealership trying to sell you a crappy car for a 'Great Deal!'