* * *
''I refuse!''
Apis furrowed his brow as he realized why the humans used the phrase ''refuse with a single blow'' to express their firm refusal.
''I don't know why Apis would make such a stupid offer to me, have you lost your head or something!''
''Maybe if it's someone else, but I don't want to hear it from you----.''
The warrior responded to Apis's rather unpleasant-sounding recommendation to retire with a cheerful smile, but it was clear that there were turbulent feelings bubbling beneath that innocent veneer.
No one is more aware of the fact that his current position in the party is the centerpiece, the pillar, the center of the team than he is.
To such a warrior, Apis's suggestion that he leave the party was tantamount to asking him to fork the blade of his sword.
''I'm not asking you to leave, I'm asking you to take a month to clear your head. Thanks to you, Mr. Nishi-san, who stuck your face in the middle of a horde of demons without a care in the world, we've got enough to do on our own for the time being.''
''Ohhh, I see, in short, you're asking us to take a break!''
''No, that's kind of what I meant, but that's not the point----.''
''Then I'll refuse all the more, because there's no telling what other peaceful villages the tusks of demons will be heading for while I'm laying down my sword! I don't need a break anyway, I'm a warrior!''
''Haha----. I mean, that's not what I meant----.''
Because you're a warrior.
Ever since the man disappeared, the warrior had been like this.
The tactical impact of the man's absence on the party could not be said to be significant, to say the least.
His powers as a priest were practically limited to the Miracle of Healing, which he used only once a day.
In the early days of the party's existence, when he could barely afford a sword or armor, he could easily fill the void left by the finest holy water and potions.
In fact, the absence of a hindrance has greatly increased the risks he can take and the range of tactics he can employ.
Potions don't need to be guarded, and you don't faint in battle.
It was a moment that made me realize that all the rhetoric I hadn't paid much attention to at the time, about the enormous benefits of leaving the party, which he'd been waxing eloquent about at every opportunity, hadn't been just a bunch of bullshit.
The series of trivial debates, in which a man would rant about his uselessness, and a warrior would respond, "A true hero never abandons his comrades, no matter what the cause," and then would put the kibosh on his declaration of withdrawal, had become an annual party tradition.
This is what it's like to have a family.
Even Apis, a down-to-earth man of uncharacteristically forest-dwelling elven sensibilities, used to think that whenever he found himself caught up in the small talk.
In the midst of the waves of blood and flesh. In the middle of a dungeon, with death lurking around every corner, never knowing when or in what form it would strike.
It was somewhat unnerving to see the strings of tension that had been so tightly wound around the men's center of gravity unraveling in the midst of such a third-rate routine.
No one in the party could deny, nor did they want to deny, that it was the nameless comfort of such a mundane routine that kept them in tune with the struggles and routines that sometimes threatened to tilt in the wrong direction.
Perhaps it was the specificity of the dungeon.
A dungeon. An anomalous space where the world's rational and perfectly circulating veins have converged on a particular place for reasons unknown to us.
Sticky, hot air that sticks to the lining of your lungs. A massively oppressive feeling as if something unidentifiable is weighing you down from above. To the hordes of hideous fiends that lurk in the foreboding clouds, waiting for foolish prey to fall prey to them.
These were the most fundamental reasons why some young people who proclaimed their intentions to become adventurers and explore unregistered dungeons were treated as the system's great pariahs.
The odds of an adventurer entering an unregistered dungeon and returning alive and well are, at best, one in a million.
Even that one percent is a bit of an understatement, as they're likely to be seriously mentally ill by the time they leave the dungeon.
So, 15 pre-registered dungeons. It was only fitting that the miraculous party, which managed to tackle a whopping 32 unregistered dungeons and found no abnormalities in their bodies or minds, would be given the honorary title of 'The Warrior Party'.
"Gentlemen, from this day forward, when you address me! I want you to call me a warrior!
Apis was confident that even centuries from now, he would still be able to recall the warrior's cheerful face as he raised his sword in the air, smiling innocently as if he had just gotten his favorite toy.
Apis was well aware of the fierce devotion with which the coming-of-age humans honored their aging parents.
She had watched him grow up, and it was no wonder that he was so excited at the prospect of being able to honor his friends who had trusted him with their lives.
But. the day she became a hero.
The auspicious day when everyone in the party was laughing and talking.
Apis was not so familiar with the emotions of her people as to be able to recognize the emotions hidden beneath the man's modest smile, nor was she familiar enough with the man himself to know what to expect.
In the weeks that followed, after the man's abrupt disappearance, the party's prestige was noticeably tarnished.
The Big Team, a group of men so reticent and outnumbered that, with the exception of his sister, the Warrior, they were apparently immune to the very act of talking to women, began to spend all of their time outside of the dungeon sleeping, as the loss of their only male companion caused them to mourn the loss of their only male companion.
Apis and Downer are a picture-perfect pair, personality-wise and genetically, and with no one to mediate between them, even the simplest of communications can turn into a fight.
It was also around this time that the warrior became obsessed with the tinnitus of being a warrior.
He felt uneasy, like he was on a ship with a slightly misaligned rudder.
The bad feeling that everyone in the party was secretly intuiting, but was nibbling at the back of their minds, wondering if it would ever come true, was slowly growing in size with each passing day.
And so.
''We'll take care of the dungeon for the time being, but you, the warrior, find that bastard as soon as possible and bring him back here.''
Apis, who was the most assertive of the party, was the quickest to finalize the decision.
This was due in large part to the ebb and flow of his sense of time, which stemmed from the vast difference in lifespan between humans and elves.
To an elf, an absence of six months was like a half-day's absence.
''Uh----?''
As if he had just been hit over the head with a hammer, the smiling warrior's body and thinking came to a standstill.
As if he had just realized for the first time that such a method existed, his eyes were unfocused and blurry, as if he was in a hurry to organize the thoughts in his head into an orderly fashion.
''Bring him back, because the party can't go on without him, and I'm tired of your sister fussing over him all day, and I'm sick to death of having to argue with Downah every time she has a problem, so bring him back as soon as you can.''
''Ha, but!
''Well.''
''But, but, but!
''So what.''
''Bring her back,'' he said, ''you have the means, but is it really necessary?
After the warrior, who had been overwhelmed by his legitimate doubts, had been contemplating his next words for a long, long time, Apis said, as if he didn't like even that brief hesitation.
''You don't want to find him? You think you can do without him?''
''Oh, no, no, of course not!''
''You want to go find him, don't you?''
''No, of course not!''
''You want to go find it, then go find it.''
''Ha, but the priest might have had his own reasons, and----. Besides, it's rather uncivilized to go after someone who has made it clear in a letter that he doesn't want you to find him again----.''
''Unscrupulous? Unscrupulous is a word that should be reserved for assholes who unilaterally write a letter and then disappear. Such people deserve to get their asses kicked.''
---Huh?
The warrior, who was quite extraordinary in his head rotation on the battlefield, but was otherwise somewhat reserved, slowly came around to Apis's reasoning.
''Oh, shit, shit, shit, shit, boys!''
Downa burst through the door, clearly panicking.
''Downa? What's going on?''
''Oh! Can't you see I'm having an important conversation with a warrior?
''Zee, that's not what's important right now!''
What Dauna held up in front of them was a crystalline magic tool engraved with a detection spell of her own devising.
It was a high-tech device that allowed them to visualize the target they were tracking through their spirits, but for some reason, it had malfunctioned when they were trying to find the man.
It was something that everyone but Downa had put out of their minds, thinking it must be broken.
''Jee, the magic that hasn't worked until now suddenly started up smoothly! The mysterious white energy has been interfering with the magic's maneuvering, and it hasn't been triggered for a while, but for some reason, it's working now!''
Dauna channeled more magic into the crystal ball.