In the past, there was a town known as Kuta Silver City. Located at a pivotal point for trade east to west, it was a large metropolis that prospered mainly from the tourism industry. The activity in the city could have held its own with current Aureatia, particularly the trade quarter, which had a new building popping up with every visit, leading it to be called the shape-shifting city.
In modern times, it went by a different name—The Land of The End. "…A goblin?"
Rique the Misfortune cast doubt on his trading partner as they appeared in the abandoned fortress ruins.
A hideous split mouth with a small frame. Pale sallow skin. Slim ears. A goblin—he didn't look like anything else.
He grabbed his familiar short bow while he lifted himself up. The room was formerly a soldier guardroom. He had been able to make sure the area right next to the bed was furnished with a weapon.
"Stop right there. I'm Rique the Misfortune. What's your second name?" "…You seem quite guarded. Well, I suppose you don't become a notorious
mercenary without being cautious. I am the Thousandth. Zigita Zogi the Thousandth. Pleasure to make your acquaintance."
Surprisingly, the goblin spoke with eloquence.
Goblins—from what Rique had heard from his father and grandfather; before the True Demon King appeared, their race had run rampant across the land. Savage and breeding in large numbers, goblins often invaded minian domains, threatening their safety, and were the main target for extermination, together with wyverns, as a necessity of civilization as a whole.
As a result, while the wyverns survived, individually strong and capable of flight, goblins on the other hand—with their low intellect and vulnerability to simple attacks with water and fire, numbers as their sole advantage—were said to have disappeared at one point.
"…Zigita Zogi the Thousandth. Our dealings together didn't just start yesterday. I thought the intermediary would be a minia, but… Are there any minia that would cooperate with goblins?"
"Who's to say? You mention that I have the minian collaborator Rique, but you have a dwarven collaborator yourself, yes? In other words, there are plenty of ways to negotiate a deal without showing your face. Plenty of ways to fight without showing your face, too."
"Suppose so. But you're showing me your face today."
"That's because you hired me for a considerable sum, Rique. Please accept my show of good faith. Perhaps you hate goblins; is that it?"
"..."
Rique sighed and sat down where he stood.
He wasn't sure. In truth, he didn't really have anything against goblins. As he was relatively young, he didn't remember the time when goblins were around. He hadn't personally witnessed them destroying crops or stealing children.
His longtime business partner belonged to a rare species. Really, that was all there was to it.
"The request this time has come from the Lana Farmlands. To stamp out all the living creatures in The Land of The End. That small farming village's really thrown an outrageous job out there, and I doubt they will pay much for it, as well."
"…Actually, there have been two recent tragedies to hit Alimo Row that were due to beasts wandering out of The Land of The End. Whether it's a small town or a bustling city, the fear is the same."
"But by subcontracting me here, you must be putting yourself deep in the red, Rique."
"Don't need to worry about me. Can you actually fight on your own?" "Fight? That would honestly be a tall order right now… Per our contract, I
can only provide the same level of logistical support I've offered you in the past."
"I'm not asking for you to save me. I'm asking if you can protect yourself. Given that you've come out all this way to see me, surely you know what I'm hunting, right?"
"…My goodness. I didn't mean to snub your thoughtful consideration. I have heard the rumors, though."
As he spread out his camping tools inside the uninhabited stronghold, Zigita Zogi added more wood to the fireplace.
When he cast simple Thermal Arts at the igniting stone, the fire illuminated his face.
"That the Demon King's Bastard is here."
The area where the True Demon King was, even now, a region consumed with terror and danger, rejecting all normal life—making anything that haunted the area abnormal.
The maddened beasts that wandered out from The Land of The End very rarely attacked settlements.
At the same time, The Land of The End was also the sole clue for pursuing the truth behind the Demon King's death. The powers that dispatched research expeditions there were too numerous to mention. They were naturally from Aureatia, but also from Taren the Punished in the New Principality of Lithia, and more. However, an unidentified monster frequented the region, and all attempts at surveying the area or bringing the monster down had ended in failure.
"If its reputation's to be believed, the enemy's the same species as the Demon King. I'll already have my hands full taking care of myself and won't be able to give any attention to defending you… I think."
"…You're much too modest. Right now, between the Old Kingdoms' loyalists in Toghie City and the attacks on the Free City of Okafu, surely there's plenty of up-front and well-paying jobs you could've chosen over this."
"I'm not an Old Kingdoms' loyalist, and I definitely don't think I have the skills to fight Kazuki the Black Tone for a job... Also, it's not good, either."
"What isn't good?"
"That there's someone menacing the beasts in The Land of The End."
Zigita Zogi cast his eyes around the room. There wasn't another soul on the first floor of the guardroom.
"I hate to say it, but it appears you're the only one who feels that way, Rique."
Rique the Misfortune often let his innate goodness and honest disposition lead him to working at a loss. He was a rare breed for a mercenary in the current age, but it also showed he had the clear skills necessary to hold fast to his own will.
"There isn't much information about the Demon King's Bastard, but have you devised some means to defeat them all by yourself?"
"By myself…? Of course not. Who said anything about that?" "Ohhh. In that case…"
Midway through his words, Zigita Zogi looked farther into the guardroom. A specter of a man appeared, coming down the stonework stairs.
"…Your voices…echo up to the second floor, Rique."
"W-well… This is a surprise. I never would have imagined someone such as
yourself would be here for a job like this."
"Goblin. Do not interfere with us. Get in our way, and I kill you. Your
FIRST WARNING."
Placing all his weight on his cane as he walked, he had an elderly man's frailty. However, the face hidden under his dark-blue robe was enveloped in a darkness blacker than night, leaving both his race and expression a mystery.
"Thermal Arts. Power Arts. Craft Arts. Life Arts."
For Word Arts, there were four schools known systematically throughout the world, and Word Arts that lay outside these four schools were collectively known as Demon Arts. However, in the current age, there existed just one individual who boasted about discovering a fifth school of Word Arts from within these Demon Arts. Arts that no other had been able to analyze before.
His name was Krafnir the Hatch of Truth.
"…Stamping out all the living creatures dwelling in The Land of The End.
Together, Krafnir and I will conquer The Land of The End."
A mysterious dust blackened the sky, and there was a vague lukewarm moisture in the blowing wind. The trees and grass grew in an unnatural direction as well, as if trying to avoid the area that cursed any and all living organisms.
Riding together in the new style of carriage, the three arrived in The Land of The End.
Extremely accurate arrows of light metal and various types of medicines. Logistical provisioning to the ruined fortress, in anticipation of a drawn-out conquest. Finally, once he had finished the arrangements for their comings and goings like this, for the timing being, Zigita Zogi's first role was over.
"The Demon King's Bastard. Can the True Demon King even have children?"
"Good question. Who knows, really. Regular demon kings, the self- proclaimed kind, sometimes make their own constructs. I mean, no one knows the truth behind that thing's identity. Save for, of course...the True Hero."
"What of the idea that it's a remnant of the Demon King Army? Even for this latest job, it all originated with this Belka the Rending Quake person attacking a town, right?"
"This enemy is rational. It's clearly targeting research expeditions and ambushing them."
Krafnir cut in, sitting back deep in his seat.
"Either that, or it could be some sort of construct taking such actions automatically."
"…That's why I don't think it's the Demon King Army. If there were any others still alive like Belka, and if they were truly part of the Demon King Army, they'd never target the research teams sent here over and over again and send them packing, nor could they."
The Demon King Army had no leadership, nor did it even have an objective.
The weakest and wickedest military force that once completely covered the whole land.
Exterminating the Demon King Army, huh. I wonder what Krafnir's up to.
Krafnir the Hatch of Truth. An arts caster said to be the greatest of the modern age. Rique thought the meager reward of a poor farming village wasn't enough to encourage a champion like him to act, but the man's thoughts were completely opaque.
"…Is that a survivor?"
Krafnir picked up on a presence ahead of where the carriage was heading.
A round, clear, and faintly crimson-colored creature was blocking the road.
An ooze.
"Maybe, Zigita Zogi. Can you wait here?"
"You intend to get out of the carriage, then? I imagine with your bow, Rique, you should be able to aim at it from our current position, no? Besides, if you take your eyes off me, I might run away and leave you behind, after all."
"I wonder. I can tell you aren't the type to do something like that. At any rate, don't come any farther."
Leaving the carriage, Krafnir and Rique carefully closed the distance. The soil was strangely moist, an ominous sign.
When the two drew closer, the ooze was mumbling incoherently. "Sorry, I-I'm sorry… I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
"…Almost none of the soldiers who encountered the Demon King's spawn saw what the enemy looked like. Probably because they moved too fast. The extent of their injuries was pretty varied, too."
"Hmm... You think this ooze is the same?" "I'm not sure."
The two continued to keep their distance from the ooze, trembling in terror—
when suddenly the ground directly below it split open. "...!"
An enormous maw burst up from the earth and devoured the ooze before it could say a word. Behind the surfacing head was its horrifyingly long body.
The strongest terrestrial creature in the land, a wurm. Even more terrifying, parts of it had been reinforced with gold wire, with crystals set in both of its eye sockets. Not an organic creature of the natural world—it was a construct.
"What the hell, Krafnir!"
"...Yes? This is the fastest way to handle things… If speed is our enemy's weapon, then my Mighamud will swallow this bastard up even faster."
"That's not the problem here… Other creatures nearby're gonna notice the sound and tremors. You know what'll happen next? They'll come looking for someone to help them. That's the kinda place we're at right now."
"Naturally, that was my intention. We are exterminating the Demon King Army. In which case, it would be easier to bring them all together and take them out at once."
The bizarre wurm was named Mighamud. Krafnir had singled out the carcass of an especially large wurm and breathed life into it to create his revenant masterpiece.
While Krafnir himself never received the actual demon king designation from the kingdom, his construct-creation skills were on par with those who were. Far beyond it, he was the only one capable of reproducing constructs, something thought to only be capable through atheoretical emotional sensibility, from an actual theoretical framework.
"…Or perhaps, you aren't confident you can take on a swarm with your lone minian body, Rique the Misfortune? I would be willing to give a lesson...and teach you about my Mind Arts."
"Of course not. Just brings more trouble's all. If your stunt sends you to your death, don't expect me to help."
"Kwah, hah, hah, hah, hah... Spare me your juvenile prattling."
Next, another person appeared. Pitifully emaciated and wrapped up in rags. They seemed to be minia. Mighamud's reflexes moved faster than a snake's— but far faster than it could act, the minia's chest was shot through with an arrow. Collapsing from the singular shot, they showed no signs of getting up.
Rique still had a large number of arrows readied in his hand when he
shouted.
"They're still more of them coming. Krafnir!"
"...Do not act ahead of me. This is my first warning."
Gravitating toward them one by one, and then mostly beginning to devour each other, the maddened army began to be shot down by Rique's accurate bow fire.
A group of leprechauns reduced to a nauseating state appeared as well, but before they could try anything, they were all swallowed up in Mighamud's massive jaw.
Voices of madness and resentment. A ceaseless, unending nightmare.
Even for two men of such tenacious mental fortitude, it was enough to tempt their minds, regardless of their knowledge of the Demon King's death. It was considered best not to involve oneself with the Demon King Army. For many people across the land, this was just as true now as it was then.
"Why…why're they living in such an awful place?!"
"...That's the True Demon King. The power of terror. The more one wants to run, the more impossible it becomes. They're long dead at this point. You know this well enough."
"Cursed Demon King… They've been dead for so long already…!" Rique nocked his next arrow.
At the same moment, an intense red premonition flittered in the back of the man's mind.
One of the reasons he had lived and survived through countless battles was because he could sense warnings of threats approaching him with visions of the color red.
"Ooh?!"
Rique jumped, throwing his whole body forward. He hadn't an inch to spare. From somewhere on the horizon, something attacked like a lightning bolt.
Penetrating through all the debris along its path, it dug into the earth, drawing a line of destruction far outside the range of his bow.
"No way…!"
A small backlit silhouette appeared in the direction of the setting sun. It wasn't the silhouette of any of the large-size races.
The shadow moved. Rique had never before felt such a vivid and clear red premonition before. Who was this person?
He would dodge the red. Could he line up his arrow for when they crossed?
Im—
This time, he could clearly hear the supersonic sound of movement, splitting through the air with a loud crack.
—possible!
However, Rique's innate skill let his arrow fly with the barest of movements, making a direct hit. Exquisite skill, simultaneously done while dodging another of the straightforward attacks.
A direct hit at reverse velocity. No matter where the shot hit his mark, it would have a relatively fearsome amount of power in it. Yet…
"The arrow's broken…" "DID IT HIT?!"
"It didn't get through! To the right!"
He looked to the right. An attack was incoming. Was he going to be in time?
Mighamud's colossal form cut in to protect Rique. Its thick flesh, protected by strong scales harder than steel, was effortlessly gouged open. Overcoming Mighamud and dashing forward, the figure continued under its momentum, grazing Rique's body.
…This is it.
A presence whose true form had been impossible for the various survey teams to see.
It had only launched three attacks at that point, but the average expedition would've been annihilated before they could even take another breath.
"Who are you?!"
The red color ran. He evaded. The figure passed by, bringing destruction with
it.
"I should ask you!"
The voice came from behind as it passed him by. In a total twist of surprise,
the unidentified monster replied to his question with one of its own.
A high-pitched voice, clear and resonant.
"Who exactly are you, then?! Showing up here and killing all those weakened people! Didn't anyone ever teach you…? Teach you that you shouldn't kill people like that!"
Rique couldn't help but look back behind him. "...?!"
Fortunately at that moment, there was no follow-up attack, and Rique laid his eyes on something astonishing.
The figure, standing on tiptoe on a resident's crumbled chimney was a girl, of nineteen or twenty years.
A thin chestnut braid, swaying in the aftermath of her movement. The luster of her hair and skin was far too healthy to consider her part of the Demon King Army. Porcelain legs peeked out of her skirt, and she was also barefoot.
It didn't make any sense.
Her movements thus far had all been so forceful that a single dash would crack the ground beneath her feet.
"Everyone's in so much pain… They need help more than anyone else!
Because of people like you!" "…What's with this girl...?" This was The Land of The End.
Her face, her words and mannerisms, her abnormal power… Nothing like it
should have been in a place like this.
She had physical abilities far more frightening than any gigant or wurm. Rique, having experienced combat with such enemies many times before, actually couldn't even figure out when she would attack.
"…I'VE GOT HER. CRAFFNIL IO MAGMA. NEXOPENES." (FROM KRAFNIR TO
Mighamud's corpse. Hole of mud ball.)
"Your name?"
Now that he had seen her form, at the very least, he couldn't attack her indiscriminately anymore. With Krafnir's Word Arts incanting behind him, Rique said to the figure while training his short bow her way, "My name's Rique the Misfortune. So you're the Demon King's Bastard, huh?"
"The Demon King's…Bastard?! No… That's not it!" the girl shouted. She appeared to be enraged, but Rique found it eerie that she totally lacked the bloodlust and domineering attitude that naturally accompanied all fighters.
Aureatia. The New Principality. Their investigations had all been warded off by this one girl.
An unidentified roaming beast that inhabited The Land of The End. "Oh, I'll tell you! My name's—"
The girl bent forward. The clothes she wore were torn along the side, and her flawless, uninjured skin was plainly visible.
Rique was sure that was where he had shot his arrow.
In all likelihood, Rique was superior in simple terms of skill. It was nonsensical to think her Word Arts could match Krafnir's.
He could dodge. He could hit her. However.
…Am I gonna be able to kill this girl?!
"Tu the Magic!"
Her mother choked to death.
Mother still had her butter knife gripped in her hand. With the dull blade, she cut open the stomach of her own son—the girl's young brother, barely three years old—stuffing her face full of his entrails until she choked and died.
Both of their expressions remained frozen in unimaginable agony. Filled with terror and despair up until their final moments, both mother and younger brother died a hopeless death.
She herself had no wounds at all. Her body was still intact. Her eyes, praised for their clear twinkle, and her expensive clothes she had once laughed about being too stiff for her were perfectly fine.
She was the only one left behind in this waking nightmare, in a country where everything had sank into the maws of hell.
The soles of her shoes were seeped in blood, and while she wandered vacantly through the building, she gazed at the town down below. This kingdom hadn't been razed in flames. Nor was it overrun by some colossal monster.
Nevertheless, everything was dead. Everyone finished in bottomless despair and terror, tormented by tragedies before perishing, similar or worse than what befell her beloved flesh and blood. They all died like this, one by one.
The True Demon King was nowhere to be found. They had already left.
Everything was over. Yet the young girl was the only one still alive. She was driven into despair.
"No, no, no, no, no, no…"
Her hands picked up a sword cast down on the floor. Someone must have dropped it. A dull sword with an awful number of nicks in the blade. Struggling under its weight, she tried to split open her own stomach with the sword. It was time.
"A-auugh… It hurts, it hurts... I'm scared... I can't take it anymore..."
The chipped blade scraped away at her skin like a saw. She could see bright- red blood pour out of her. It was her own body. Nauseating. Painful. Agonizing.
What's going to happen to me? What's going to happen to me? What's going to happen to me? What's going to happen to me? What's going to happen to me? What's going to happen to me? What's going to happen to me?
She went to shove the blade, kept back by her skin, deep into her abdomen.
Into her very own body.
Was she going to be forced to taste this agonizing pain for the absurdly protracted time until her death? Why was she doing something so horrifying? What was going to happen to her?
"I—I... Sniff…! I—I—" Tears came.
"I'm scared."
Frightening. Terrifying. Neither she, nor anyone else, should've wanted to do anything like this. Yet they weren't able to stand it all if they didn't.
The Demon King was watching. She could hear that voice. Her arms kept moving.
"Help... I don't want this…"
A wet, squelching noise. It must have been her skin tearing, the blade reaching inside.
"Stop!"
Suddenly, someone interrupted her, grabbing the sword out of her hand.
A long chestnut-colored braid hung from her head, the most striking aspect of the girl's appearance.
"Fool! You're still a young girl... What if that leaves behind a horrible scar?! Didn't anyone teach you to take care of your body?!"
It was a lovely young girl. Around nineteen or twenty years of age. She looked about as old as her second eldest sister.
Amid the hellish nightmare...this young girl alone, appearing out of the blue, was the only one who wasn't smeared in blood or misery.
"Wh-what...?"
She looked at her own hands. The girl was holding them. She could feel her body heat.
The girl with the braid paid no mind to the filth of her hands and held them tight in warm hands of her own.
"...Who are you?"
"Tu. Tu the Magic, just passing by. Um…er, why?"
The braided girl looked at the sword lying on the floor. She seemed to be truly and utterly bewildered.
"…Why would you do something like this?" "..."
"I was looking 'round town before I came here… Everyone was suffering; everyone was dying. It didn't make any sense at all. All of them were still alive! Everyone... It's too horrible… I can't let something like this stand."
"That's not it…! That's not… I-it isn't… It isn't my fault."
Within the young girl's heart, filled with terror, it seemed like all of existence was condemning her.
She was the only one who survived. Despite everyone else dying, she alone survived.
"...!"
The braided girl, Tu, shook her head, as if throwing off all misery with it. "Of course not! Let's go!"
Tu vigorously rose to her feet, her hands still tightly gripping the girl's, raising her on her tiptoes. She blinked rapidly, eyes that had been forced open for so long.
"Go?"
"We're running outta here! I'll take you with me!"
"...Ah." Running away.
The idea hadn't crossed her mind up until that moment.
If someone hadn't said that to her, would she have aimlessly wandered about the ruined kingdom forever?
She was positive she would've. It was terrifying.
However, it was a different terror than what she had felt earlier—a person's
fear.
"I… I want...to run away. I want to get away. But—but where...?" "Doesn't matter where! You'll go crazy staying in a place like this! Get on
my back!"
She did as she was told, letting Tu carry her…when she noticed how her own tears were dirtying Tu's clothes.
Oh no, I—I… I'm being saved like this; I can't…
It was then she learned she had been so terrified that she couldn't even afford to cry.
"I'm sorry."
"For what? Here we go—I'll run slow, okay?"
Tu started running. Completely contrary to what she had said, the landscape drifted by faster than even the finest steed could hope to match.
Flying out of a window, she freely bounded over towers, walls, gardens.
The girl couldn't believe it. It seemed like a lie. This young girl's words and her strength were both as if one of the champions, romanticized in poetry, had slipped out into the real world.
"…It'll be okay!"
The braid, fluttering behind her, was like the tail of a shooting star.
"The world's not cruel! I've heard it myself. There's all sorts of possibilities, no matter what the times're like… All sorts of color out there! So in that case, there's gotta be a future where you'll be able to smile and laugh, too!"
Among the tragic scenery, there was a girl capable of declaring such bright things without any hesitation.
Suddenly showing up, suddenly saving her—why was she able to remain so cheerful?
Tu and the girl's encounter that day was the only one they had. Like a hallucination that couldn't be shared with anyone.
No one else knew the truth of the day when she alone survived.
"Who...who are you?"
"Tu the Magic. Outside of that... Ha-ha-ha! Honestly, I don't really know much myself! But it's okay!"
Tu laughed, leaving the hellish scene far in the distance behind them.
"The important stuff I've known from the beginning. Everything 'cept your name anyway! Mind if I ask?"
"......... Sephite."
The name of the last member of the royal family, unable to protect the citizens who needed their protection.
The day she could give her name with pride would likely never come. However, Tu looked back and gave a blossoming smile.
"Nice to meet ya! I'm positive a smile would suit ya." "What are you talking about?"
"I mean you'd look a whole lot cuter with a smile on your face, Sephite!
Don't you think?"