Shuumatsu Nani Shitemasuka? Mou Ichido Dake, Aemasuka? Volume 1 Chapter 2 Part3

As the day of battle drew near, tension slowly crept into the 5th Division.

According to a report from the observation team, the Croyance on the 39th Floating Island showed no signs of movement. Therefore, there would be no change to the plan. The first combat operations began three months from now.

As the days pa.s.sed, everyone spoke less and less, morale dropping like a stone. The negative, frightened atmosphere clung to the soldiers like a disease.

The enemy they were preparing to fight was a Beast which, until five years ago, had only been sighted on the surface. There were no combat records to read. Likewise, data such as the most effective methods of attack, the Beast’s radius of action, or its range of attack were completely unknown.

Moreover, although the Winged Guard’s mission objective was to fight and repel Beasts, very few of the soldiers had any actual combat experience in that regard.

Those who fought the Materno and the Croyance five years ago had all died. What remained of them were chaotic and disorderly battle records which, no matter how much they were a.n.a.lyzed, only produced one coherent piece of information: We couldn’t do anything to it.

The records from the time period before five years ago, when only the Teimerre drifted through the sky, were rife with issues as well. The Teimerre battles had been fought by the 2nd Division, an artillery team comprised of bulky Reptrace who utilized mysterious secret weapons. Only that division could claim to have “real combat experience” against the Beasts, and the nature of the weapons they had used remained cla.s.sified.

Consequently, the soldiers of the 5th Division continued to worry. Their minds remained solidly fixated on the inevitable destruction gradually approaching, and as their hopes waned it became increasingly difficult to go about one’s everyday business.

What is the Croyance, Restraining and Imprisoning Eleventh Beast?

Little is known about its true appearance or how to destroy it. However, when it comes to its outward appearance or threat, plenty of material can be found on the subject.

The Croyance is a clear black crystal.

Of course, it is no normal crystal. There are two points regarding its nature that stand out. First, it a.s.similates whatever it touches and grows larger in the process. Second, any impact causes the a.s.similation to quicken.

Speaking relatively, it is not a threat unless you touch it. If you encounter it, it is harmless as long as you maintain your distance.

The trouble is that there is no means of destroying the Croyance. Even if it starts as a tiny black chunk, it will continuously keep growing while absorbing its surroundings. The bigger it becomes, the more it can touch and slowly consume. If you strike it with a sword or shoot it with a bullet, it will a.s.similate the weapon and grow again. The only thing it is unable to a.s.similate is sand and rock, which could be considered its only known weakness.

The initial a.s.similation process is slow. For example, it may take slightly more than 24 hours to absorb the whole body of a beast-person in contact with the crystal. If he chops off his arm, he can possibly escape and survive. However, if in his panic he struggles against the crystal too much, the a.s.similation will progress rapidly and instantly transform him into a silent crystal statue.

…They sure are carefree.

While he was careful to not let it show on his face or in his voice, Feodor despised his comrades.

They had not known anything so frightening before now. Until seeing the Croyance with their own eyes, they must never have imagined they might be confronted with the day of reckoning.

This world has always been on the brink of destruction. When we constantly live on thin ice, it’s not so unusual to come face-to-face with death.

For Feodor, it wasn’t just idle talk; it was a reality he had personally experienced. After that day, nothing remained that could make him afraid anymore.

Several days had now pa.s.sed since the four girls arrived.

Feodor was acting as their superior officer, but he honestly had nothing to do. On the first day he had given them a brief tour of the grounds and introduced them to some important people, but that was all. He wasn’t an instructor, and had no particular need to attend their training. Moreover, the girls willingly became familiar with the 5th Division without his help.

“Well, I’m not complaining about how easy it is, but…”

Feodor was absentmindedly gazing at the scenery from the barracks rooftop.

As a general rule, military bases, are designed to have a bad view. Being surrounded by terrain that’s easy to appreciate and understand in a single glance is disadvantageous in battle. Because of that, however, they also tended to be fairly unpleasant as living s.p.a.ces.

He had just taken a bite out of some sugarcoated fried bread when a voice suddenly piped up from behind him. “So, I heard. You have a fiancé, don’t you?”

“What’re you talking about?”

“Huh? Didn’t ya say as much in front of the First Officer?”

In front of the First Officer? Oh, from that day.

“And here I thought we were friends, but now’s the first I’ve heard of it! Do I know her already?”

The flapping sound of wings filled the sky, as Private First Cla.s.s Nax Selzel landed just behind Feodor.  As they were different ranks, Nax usually spoke politely to him in public (as much as the Falcon soldier could manage to), but in this place with n.o.body around they spoke familiarly as soldiers who used to be former roommates tended to.

“Well, I was engaged. My hometown vanished a long time ago, and the engagement with it.” After making sure they were alone, Feodor removed his gla.s.ses. He kept them on mainly to conceal his twisted glare; as to not reveal any of his faults while acting like a perfect role model, he’d developed the habit of only speaking frankly without his gla.s.ses on.

“Vanished?”

He ignored the question. “I only brought it up as an excuse. You’ve seen those four markless kids? We’re close in age, and I didn’t want the First Officer to worry too much. He wondered if my relations.h.i.+p with them might get out of hand.”

“Hmm… yeah, that’s true,” Nax conceded. “I’m sure for you it’s an unavoidable problem.”

The problems of races with mating seasons were hard to understand for races without them, and vice versa. The same might be said of anything else between the two varieties of races, but this fact in particular was especially troublesome. Many beastfolk with mating seasons had strong notions of virtue and it was deeply rooted within their cultures to prohibit approaching or touching those of the opposite s.e.x who were of marriageable age. With good reason, as several times a year the delicate balance between reason and instinct collapsed on a grand scale.

Being far more numerous than markless, the beastfolk were consequently used as the point of reference for most of society’s laws.

"If you’re not lying about that, then you can even keep up that honest appearance of yours. As expected of an Imp, you’re good at small tricks.”

“Don’t talk bad about my character. It’s more like…” Feodor smirked, shrugging his shoulders. “A little maneuver, to make the conversation go smoother.”

“So, anyway, what is it actually like?” Nax rubbed his chin. “I get the impression that they’re all sorta kiddy, but someday it might be the female subordinate scenario everybody dreams about. Gonna sneak off somewhere, make a move on ‘em?”

“Not a chance,” Feodor brushed off his teasing remark. “They’re markless, aren’t they? That’s not my preference.”

“h.e.l.lo, Feo?” Nax asked disbelievingly. “Taken a look in the mirror recently?”

“I don’t care about my own race. I like fluffy white-haired cat features. Ears like these,” Feodor made a gesture, “standing up straight. Furless girls… well, they’re a bit cute, but that’s about it.”

“This guy’s seriously sick,” Nax mumbled, looking up at the sky. “Okay, well… that’s boring, but I get what ya mean.”

“What do you mean, boring?!”

“Your whole honor student deal means ya can’t have any fun. If ya get caught up in a scandal, folks’d get a kick and some out of it. That’s why I keep telling ya, drop that guy already! Get some new material!”

“I’m not going to mix my work and pleasure.”

“Fine, fine! The killjoy routine works on our brainless comrades anyway, so I’ll drop it for now. More importantly…”

His flighty tone suddenly gone, Nax lowered his voice, “How’s the main act going? Looking after these kids gonna make it harder to get around?”

“It’s fine, it’s hardly gotten in the way. It might make it a bit of a squeeze, but I can still take my time. If some problem does happen, then I’ll contact you again.”

“Roger that. Don’t overwork yourself, kay? Even if it’s not needed, you try too hard to please others.”

“Sure. Take care.”

Whoosh. Nax was gone, only feathers left in his wake.

Now then, what was the daily life of Feodor’s four charges like?

The one most familiar with her surrounding environment was the excessively energetic girl with cherry blossom-colored hair.

“Hiii-yah!”

Her overly long name seemed to be Collon Rin Purgatorio, and she rushed over to the sparring room every day whenever she had free time. According to her, in the place she usually lived there weren’t any opponents who could keep up with her.

Perplexed, Feodor had asked her, “Aren’t you a member of the 2nd Division’s veteran unit, with their group of tough guys?”

“Nope, not at all,” she had replied cheerfully. “I live in a house with a warm atmosphere!”

He didn’t understand that at all.

That aside, her arrival had turned out to be especially enjoyable for two of the officers superior to him, Portrick and Talmareet. Both of them were gigantic beastfolk obsessed with unarmed fighting, and even though they were on bad terms and constantly quarreling, they could only use their full strength on each other. Feodor might have combat prowess of his own, but his underhanded style didn’t suit those two, who preferred to fight with honor.

Collon jumped in between the two giants, declaring fearlessly “Let’s be friends with fists!” As it turned out, she was able to put up an equal fight for both men.

“Even with how much smaller she is, she locked up my joints and jabbed at my pressure points very beautifully,” Portrick had said later of the first match. “That said, even when it come to bare fists, both of us together were outmatched. I’d bet she used a magical technique of some kind… to master your limbs that way is difficult, so that’s worth praising. If you instead used such a powerful technique to sacrifice skill in exchange for force, that way of fighting wouldn’t be a fine art anymore!”

Then he added, in a weirdly fervent tone, “I can’t believe I’m being charmed by a girl young enough to be my daughter of a different race.” Through the bristles on his face, the lycanthropos’ face was tinged a little red. “How did something like that happen?”

“Oh, really?” Feodor managed a casual response. Even though the other party is markless? Such absolutely putrid taste.

The next one he was growing familiar with was the perpetually nervous orange-haired girl.

“Amazing! The oven here – it’s really amazing!”

Her name was Lakish Nyx Seniolis – unsurprisingly, another long name – and she frequently appeared in the dining hall to help the kitchen staff. Lyell’s uniquely-crafted cooking utensils seemed to be her favorite, and every time they met she would breathlessly tell Feodor all about a new recipe she’d memorized and how much she wished she could have the equipment here inside ‘the warehouse’, which seemed to be what the place they’d lived before was named.

That girl isn’t much like a soldier.

Of course, if he thought about it, none of them were strictly soldiers. First-cla.s.s equivalent soldiers. Their rank was the same as a Private First Cla.s.s, but they weren’t actually part of the army.

“She’s really a good girl, so honest and hardworking!”

“If she had small horns or fangs, I’d ask my son to marry her!”

Her achievements seemed to be popular with the kitchen ladies, for them to say stupid things of that sort. Geez, even though she’s markless? For the sake of your son’s feelings, think before you speak.

As for the purple-haired girl, the one who might be named… Panival Nox Katena?

“Hm…”

Feodor wasn’t sure what to make of her. Every time there was free time, she disappeared without a trace, then was nonchalantly back among the soldiers when roll-call came around. The very picture of a phantom. It’s almost like she’s a fairy.

What’s more, because there were multiple eyewitness reports of her presence within the base’s premises, it didn’t seem like she was leaving without permission.

He had tried to tell her off once for wandering off all the time, and she had replied, “You didn’t lose sight of me, did you?” With a cheeky grin on her face, she had gone on, “To begin with, can you say your eyes are really looking at me? Do you trust your own eyes to that extent?”

I don’t get what she’s talking about. Why do girls choose to be difficult at that age?

Oh, right, she’s markless. If it’s like that, then it’s normal for me to have no clue about her. As far as Panival was concerned, he could rest a.s.sured that way.

As for the last of the four, Tiat s.h.i.+ba Ignareo…

One day in the city of Lyell, the door to a certain abandoned theatre’s rooftop was pushed open.

Stepping out onto the roof, Feodor spied a familiar person he had once before spoken to in this very place. Carrying a fresh bag of donuts under his arm, he sat next to his guest. “You show be aware that it’s a violation of military regulations for a soldier under supervision to leave without permission.”

As was usual when he went out and about, Feodor wasn’t wearing his gla.s.ses and, as he wasn’t currently acting the model soldier, didn’t see any need to be polite. Ordinarily that would mean making the effort to not make conversation with anybody he met – but in this instance, the young woman sitting next to him was now a fellow soldier, and so it would be pointless to try and hide his true face from her.

“I don’t suppose you could pretend I was never here?”

"As if.” Feodor scoffed. “That became impossible as soon as I found you.”

“So you won’t overlook it?” Tiat sighed. “How stingy.”

“I’m fine with being stingy. Society’s maintained by people who single-mindedly focus on rules and moved by people who openly break rules. What’s important is for both roles to be divided evenly and maintain balanced.”

“Feodor, I’ve thought this ever since we met, but even though you seem like a good person at first, aren’t you actually pretty mean?”

“I’ll accept your compliment.”

“…That part of you…” she mumbled. “…It’s almost like Willem, but you’re the exact opposite of him.”

“Hmm?” The name wasn’t familiar to him. “Who’s that?”

“I was just talking to myself, don’t worry about it. Ah, can I have one of those?” Tiat reached out her left hand, wiggling her fingers as if begging for something.

“You do realize I’m in the middle of telling you off?”

“Kind of. But you’re right next to me and you’re eating something delicious-looking, so it’s only natural for me to want some.”

“Well, I understand that…” Feodor sighed. “I don’t know if you’ll enjoy it, though.” Taste was invariably one of the differences between races. Even if two people were markless, the same food wasn’t guaranteed to be good-tasting for both of them.

“I won’t know until I try it, right?”

Giving up, Feodor handed her a donut. “Here.”

“Okay!”

Together, both of them bit into the freshly-fried food.

”…It’s good!”

“Oh!” Surprised, Feodor leaned forward. Until now, there had never been anybody else who shared his tastes. “This shop doesn’t vary much in product, but just deep-frying is plenty delicious, don’t you think? It’s not like just upping the sugar for different races… I dunno how to put it, but I think it’s making the best use of the flavor?”

With his gla.s.ses off, he couldn’t find the specific words and skillful phrases he wanted to express himself with. Fortunately, Tiat seemed to have understood the gist of it, and was nodding rapidly.

“By the way,” Feodor added, his mood increasingly improving, “when you dip it in milk, it’s so good it’ll make your mind go blank!”

“Urf–” Tiat’s excited gasp became gagging as she choked on her donut, pounding her chest several times and gasping for air until she finally caught her breath again. “D-did you bring any?!”

“Bring what?”

“Milk!”

“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s tough enough just getting up here with this bag.”

“Struggling is just an unavoidable part of enjoying delicious food.”

“Don’t say such a selfish thing and disguise it as a good argument.”

“So it’s no good, then?” Tiat lowered her head, crestfallen. Feodor took the opportunity to start stuffing himself with the remaining food.

And then the girl’s hand reached out once again, requesting a second donut.

There were many clouds today, blotting out even the dark shadow of the 39th Floating Island from view. For all intents and purposes, the sky was calm and peaceful.

“Who are you girls?” Feodor asked abruptly.

“Hmm? What do you mean by that?”

“I mean exactly what I said. You’re too secretive about yourselves,” Feodor said. “I don’t know why they dug through the rulebook to make you equivalent soldiers, but it’s plain to see that none of you are really soldiers. Going off appearance alone, you’re just young girls and your only distinguis.h.i.+ng feature is being markless.”

He shook his head. “Even so, you’ve all completed the training course as if it’s second nature and started to mix in with the real soldiers. It’s expected that new recruits end up huddled over in a vomiting mess for the first two months of service, but you girls have been composed from day one. And if you’re about to tell me you were trained by the 2nd Division, that’s clearly not the case.”

“Ah…” Tiat scratched her cheek, evidentially bothered by what he was saying.

“What’s more, just from looking at Collon, it’s obvious something absurd is going on,” Feodor went on. “Handling magical techniques at your age – what’s more, mastering it to the extent of being able to use it in combat whenever you like – just isn’t natural.”

What exactly Venenum was had been recorded in the textbook he’d thoroughly read in preparation for the rank advancement exam. Therefore, while he couldn’t handle it himself, Feodor understood the gist of it.

Venenum was the power to forcibly distort the fabric of the world. Those who were detached from the world or deliberately weakened their own lifeforce were able to summon stronger power and exert greater force from their innate Venenum, but for that same reason, continuing to use Venuneum meant burning up one’s own life.

Yet, regardless of the harsh requirements and consequences, these young girls were already masters of Venenum to the extent where they could wield it freely on the battlefield?

“Not natural, huh?” Tiat asked quietly.

“That’s right!”

“So then, what do you think is normal? Somebody like you?”

That’s – c.r.a.p, that’s not what I meant. “No, not like me. I mean, n.o.body joins the military because they’re normal. Don’t you have anyone else at home – anybody to teach you?”

“Ah, well… right now, it’s just us, and one troll–”

“What?! That’s amazing!”

A troll. They live with a literal man-eating demon?!

As legend  had it, trolls once considered the Emnetwyte their staple food, but now that that accursed species was thankfully eradicated, the man-eaters had no choice but to remedy their lifestyle and become less picky about their food. Now they simply devoured anything and anyone.

Though the race was in smaller numbers as far as markless went, one of Feodor’s acquaintances was a troll. He was morally bankrupt to the core – in other words, an explementary markless. I couldn’t imagine living with somebody like him. That’s like raising a wolf and sheep in the same pen.

“Living together with a troll… more and more mysteries are piling up…”

“You don’t know anything about us!” Tiat snapped, as if her situation wasn’t unusual at all. “W-Well, I do know our situation is strange, I’m not unaware of that, but… but everyone has special circ.u.mstances of their own, so doesn’t that make us actually very ordinary?”

“Saying that like you’ve only just realized how it might look to others… that shows just how abnormal you are.”

“R-really?”

Feodor rubbed his neck. “When I asked the First Officer, he wouldn’t say anything about your background even though I’m supposedly your direct superior. Geez, it’s as if your existence itself is being treated as cla.s.sified–”

“–If that’s the case, wouldn’t that be the answer you’re looking for?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Something cold p.r.i.c.ked Feodor’s cheek, intruding into his train of thought. He wiped it off with a finger and looked at it. Water. The faint echo of rolling thunder rumbled in the distance.

“…It looks like it’s going to rain,” Tiat said. “We should get back home now.”

Feodor thought about it, then nodded. Setting aside the question of if her existence really was cla.s.sified or not, she clearly wasn’t in the mood to talk about herself anymore. Trying to force details out of her wouldn’t lead the conversation in a good direction. If I want to learn more, I’ll have to rethink the way I do it next time.

“We can meet up here another time and talk again?”

He shook his head at her suggestion. “It would violate military regulations, so I won’t make that promise.”

“What’s with that? So boring…”

In just the span of their idle conversation, the rain had started falling in earnest. “Really though, we need to get back soon before we get completely soaked,” Tiat said. Wearing the charming smile one would expect of a mysterious woman holding her secrets close to her heart, she made to stand up.

Then her b.u.t.t happened to slip off the roof’s edge.

“Ah…”

“Huh?”

Thuuunk!

Whoooooooooos.h.!.+

The sound of a mighty impact exploded, followed by a column of water no less magnificent.