The Gold of the Kunie Page 8

  However, because the situation was what it was, he felt hesitant about taking a girl to a battlefield where her life would be in danger.

  “Well, when you’re as splendid a girl as I am, you just give off pheromones no matter what’s going on.”

  As Tetora spoke, she puffed out her chest and wore an expression that seemed to say, Goodness gracious, what a pain.

  Apparently she’d misinterpreted Naotsugu’s scrutiny. This wasn’t at all what Naotsugu wanted to hear, but Tetora had planted her hands on her hips and was rapping away cheerfully: Pheromones, pheromones, no help for that, I saw through that, hm-hm-hmmm. Although there was no telling what she was happy about, she tried to glom on to Naotsugu again, proudly, and he couldn’t let his guard down. For his part, Naotsugu desperately tried to peel her away.

  “I don’t think it was pheromones that came out of that projecting posterior of yours. I think it was probably wind.”

  Li Gan, who had a finger to his chin and looked pensive, punctured Tetora’s attitude with a single strike.

  “Wha?!”

  “Wha?”

  A look of intense sorrow came onto Tetora’s face, and immediately afterward, her knees nearly buckled. Forcing herself to regain her footing, even so, she stuck to her guns:

  “Idols do not break wind!”

  “Do they pee?”

  “No!”

  Naotsugu had made the comeback on reflex, but Tetora picked it up deftly. Her timing was impeccable.

  “Okay, you pass.”

  “Huh?”

  “You pass—Listen, this is sudden, but…”

  Just as he’d told Li Gan, in the end, it was about instinct.

  Besides, Naotsugu had picked up a nostalgic air about Tetora. It resembled his companions who’d just sprinted ahead, even though they hadn’t been looking for victory.

  That was how Naotsugu managed to recruit a new raid member.

  3

  “So you had the guts to show your face here again, huh, Shiroe of Log Horizon?!”

  When Shiroe turned, he saw Demiquas, whose entire body seemed to be radiating anger.

  Behind him was a fallen table he’d apparently kicked over; food was splattered across the floor. The members of Silver Sword were looking at Demiquas—in other words, at the table where their leader William and his guest Shiroe were—with dangerous expressions.

  This zone was located within the city of Susukino, and naturally, it was a noncombat area.

  As a result, no guild members had drawn their weapons. One of them spoke to a frightened Person of the Earth: “We’re fine here. Go in back and take a break.”

  At those words, Shiroe smiled slightly. They’re a good guild, he’d thought.

  However, the enraged Demiquas didn’t seem to have taken it that way.

  “As laid-back as ever, ain’tcha!”

  “It’s been a long time, Democracy.”

  The big, well-muscled man looked exactly as he had half a year ago. His equipment had been significantly updated, but his thick, bare, log-like arms and bloodshot eyes hadn’t changed. This world really did bear a marked resemblance to Elder Tales: Even though time had passed, there was no change in his appearance. To Shiroe, the discovery felt both natural and disappointing.

  This encounter hadn’t been unanticipated. When they’d decided to head for Susukino, the first thing Naotsugu had worried about had been running into Demiquas and his guild, the Briganteers. When Shiroe had rescued Serara of the Crescent Moon League right after the Catastrophe, he’d come into conflict with the Briganteers in Susukino. They’d been ruling the town with violence at the time, and they were the ones he’d rescued Serara from. In this world, where settling matters through combat lacked the deterrent of death, the victory Shiroe’s group had scored against them might not have had any influence on the situation in general. However, even so, they’d succeeded in rescuing Serara, and it wasn’t hard to imagine that since the others had been relying on violence, they’d hurt their self-esteem.

  “Step outside, Shiroe!”

  Demiquas pounded the massive oak table with a fist like a chunk of iron.

  Apparently Naotsugu’s prediction had been correct. It had been a completely natural prediction, and it would have been hard for it to be wrong, but Demiquas hadn’t forgotten the incident from half a year ago, and he probably wasn’t just going to let it go.

  “What do you plan to do outside?”

  Shiroe knew the answer to this with absolute certainty, but he asked anyway.

  He knew what Demiquas wanted, but even so, he couldn’t just skip all the steps in the middle. It was a conventional exchange of taunts. This was a grudge Shiroe had created in the past, so he couldn’t run from it. Now, when he was right in the middle of negotiations to recruit raid members, he had to avoid showing weakness in front of William.

  “Which do you like better, Hamburg steak or mincemeat cutlet?”

  “I like tofu.”

  “That’s great. Nice and soft. I’ll pound you to a pulp, so get outside!”

  “Shut up, Demi.”

  However, William interrupted bluntly.

  “That guy’s my guest.”

  “What the hell do I care?! William, he— My—”

  “You lost, didn’t you?”

  “—!”

  “You lost. And quit picking fights.”

  “But!”

  “I’ll crush you again, Demiquas.”

  William issued the warning in a bitterly cold voice.

  Shiroe pushed his glasses up with a fingertip, thinking. He’d known about the circumstances in Susukino through reports. That half a year ago, the confusion after Shiroe’s group had left Susukino had continued. That after the Round Table Council had been established, they’d put together several caravans between Akiba and Susukino, and had finished rescuing the people who’d been left behind in the city. After that, Silver Sword had moved their headquarters to this northern country, and while Susukino’s current atmosphere was slightly barbarous, it had settled down into a frontier player town.

  Susukino had been a lawless city, crowded with combat guilds, but because Silver Sword—a group that had pulled off some of the top raids on the server—had moved in, public order had returned, even if it was rather unsteady. William’s group was a guild whose power was right on the heels of D.D.D. and the Knights of the Black Sword on the Yamato Server, and although they hadn’t actively dominated the town, they hadn’t tolerated any insolent boasting from amateurs. To William and the others, anyone who got violent as a group, especially with People of the Earth—whose combat power was clearly inferior to that of Adventurers—was a despicable coward. They wouldn’t let anyone like that talk about Elder Tales or combat.

  Shiroe had just witnessed a real-life example from that report.

  Six ears were sticking up over the kitchen counter. Felinoid People of the Earth had poked their heads up partway so that their eyes hovered just above the counter, and they were watching the situation on the floor. Those eyes did seem to hold the feeling that this was a bit of a problem, but there was no fear in them.

  Silver Sword must have won the trust of the People of the Earth here in Susukino. Susukino was on the front line of the struggle with the Giants, and ever since the days of Elder Tales, it had been a frontier town where tough guys gathered. This time around, that might have influenced things in a positive way.

  They probably felt safer now, when Silver Sword—who were disciplined, even if they were a surly combat group—were here as the town’s guardians, than they had when the Briganteers and other scoundrels had swaggered around as if they owned the place.

  Finding himself the target of William’s cutting words, Demiquas ground his teeth. He glared at Shiroe with a curse in his eyes and enough force to run him through.

  “In the first place, friend, you couldn’t win against Shiroe.”

  “Hey, I’ve picked up a few raid items since then.”

  True, when he looked,
he saw that the Wyvern Leg Guards that Demiquas had equipped seemed to have been drastically modified. In addition, various pieces of his equipment looked well used, showing that over the past six months, he’d participated in several raids. Not only that, but they couldn’t have been low-level raids. The King of Beasts’ Armor was a found item in the Master of Tenvictory Plateau, a field raid for level-90 players. If he’d done that after the Catastrophe, it meant he’d succeeded at a challenge difficult enough to deserve praise.

  “Thinking you could win with equipment is the reason you couldn’t beat Shiroe.”

  “~~~!!”

  Demiquas radiated inarticulate murderous intent. In contrast, William’s laid-back attitude didn’t flicker. Shiroe didn’t know what kind of relationship had been built between the two of them, but he could imagine it. No doubt they’d gotten into a contest of strength and had clarified their respective positions in the hierarchy. William had won a victory so overwhelming that Demiquas was left with no choice but to fall silent.

  “And then, and then, the Briganteers lost half their members. Well, you can’t blame them, you know. He got completely shredded by a swordfighting cat who wasn’t even in a guild. That obviously made the foundations shaky. On top of that, the craptastic Rondarg got poached by the West.”

  “Hey, self-proclaimed idol. It’s okay for you to say ‘crap’?”

  “You mustn’t say ‘crap.’ It will destroy your popularity.”

  “Hah! I-I didn’t say it. I’d never say ‘crap.’ It would pollute my mouth.”

  “Planning to be one of those anything-for-attention idols, are you?”

  “I’m an orthodox, beautiful, galactic idol! I’m so outer space I’d make the Voyager jealous!”

  “That sounds kinda lonely. Never mind that, what’s Demiquas up to?”

  “I’m not lonely!! Demi-Demi is Silver Sword’s junior member henchman, and so are the Briganteers. And now Susukino’s peaceful. I’m not lonely, all right? Well, about half of it’s because Demi-Demi’s bride is an excellent person. And also, I’m not lonely.”

  These cheerful, thoughtless voices reached the table where Shiroe, William, and Demiquas stood in the midst of searing tension. The voices grew louder and louder, probably because they were walking this way. However, apparently, they didn’t have the sense to lower their voices.

  Demiquas’s face went red, and tensed with something that wasn’t anger.

  “Seriously?! A bride?! What-the-heck city!!”

  “He’s a married man, is he? Lucky fellow.”

  “No, they’re not married, or rather, he refuses to admit it, but according to my information network—the People of the Earth—his guild house is neat as a pin, his sheets are laundered crisp, and three meals get fixed every day, and his guild members are gaga over her. It sounds like he got himself adopted by a People of the Earth noblewoman.”

  “Huh…?”

  “He kidnapped this Person of the Earth, thinking he’d turn her into a servant, but she took care of him and he went all soft, The End. I swear, it’s like some ero-game development. Oh, but Mister Naotsugu? Don’t you want me to take care of you? Dweh-heh-heh. I’ll help you out. I may not look it, but I am an idol, you know.”

  “Whatever, just get down, you counterfeit idol!!”

  Shiroe heard a cute voice laughing—“Gweh-heh-heh!”—in a tone that wasn’t cute at all.

  Inconveniently, the other two voices were male, and he recognized them.

  “So anyway, thanks to that, Demi-Demi’s really mellowed out lately… Oh. There he is, even.”

  That instant, without any lead-up at all, Demiquas flew through the air. Wyvern Kick. The flying kick, which included a glide of about five meters, was a prominent Monk special attack skill. He’d probably activated the skill just by twisting his torso, without using the menu, and he’d done it at a speed that was beyond comparison with what it had been six months ago.

  The attack had been made without any preparatory motions, but in a move so quick it was almost impossible to see, Naotsugu rammed it with the shield he’d had ready. The light, clear, high sound was probably proof that Demiquas’s attack hadn’t been a serious one. This was a noncombat zone, so if he had been, the Kunie clan guards would have appeared. Naotsugu also hadn’t blocked it in earnest. He’d just held his shield up over his shoulder, blandly.

  However, the attack’s direct target, the slim girl who’d been hugging Naotsugu’s neck, seemed to have been overawed. Her trembling mouth hung open, and she clung to Naotsugu desperately, like a bear cub.

  The trio that had come in through the door consisted of Naotsugu, Li Gan, and a Cleric. They’d probably gotten information on Demiquas, who was very likely to be hostile to Shiroe, and had come to meet up with him. However, their timing had been rotten, and Demiquas himself had overheard them chatting as they swapped information.

  They probably hadn’t meant anything by it, but the content of their conversation had infuriated Demiquas. Shiroe had to admit that that was only natural. If people talked about something like that in public, let alone revealed things like those while he was in the middle of picking a fight, it was only to be expected. He did think that unleashing a kick in retaliation had been going too far, but if the other guy was Naotsugu, there was nothing to worry about. He was used to getting kicked during his bouts with Akatsuki. Even in Akiba, it was safe to call this particular Guardian an expert in taking flying kicks and flying knee kicks. Considering that his defense rate against Akatsuki was about 50 percent, Akatsuki’s kicks might be on par with those of a professional Monk in real life.

  “He kicked?!”

  “Way to take advantage of the confusion: Where are you putting your hands?! Don’t cling! Quit leaning on me!”

  “Dammit, Tetora. What’re you shooting your mouth off for?”

  Thanks to their conversation, which completely failed to mesh, the situation got even more chaotic.

  Apparently, the Cleric that was hanging on to Naotsugu’s neck for dear life was called Tetora—a cute name. On checking her level and guild, it all became clear to Shiroe: Naotsugu had probably brought her back for the raid. If they recruited another helper or two, plus himself and Naotsugu, they’d manage to pull a full raid together somehow. Just when Shiroe was about to breathe a sigh of relief, William spoke, an entertained smile on his lips:

  “Perfect timing. Add that healer and Demi, and we’ll have enough people. You saw how hot-blooded he is. He can settle his score with Shiroe during the raid. Hah!”

  At his sardonic laugh, Shiroe felt the mood he’d had up until a moment ago fly to pieces.

  The raid to explore the deepest part of the Depths of Palm looked set to bring Shiroe unending worry and trouble.

  4

  The preparations for their departure went forward without a hitch.

  Most Adventurer property was kept in their rooms or guild halls, in the rented safe-deposit boxes at the bank, or in their own luggage. It was common sense for veteran Adventurers in this world to have several weight-reduction bags, also known as Magic Bags. It wasn’t at all unusual to carry around with you consumable items and equipment you’d need on an adventure, just as they were.

  On top of that, Silver Sword was a guild that specialized in raids. For its elite members, their daily routine was combat. After William gave the order, they were fully prepared by evening.

  In this post-Catastrophe world, the time they experienced seemed to be twelve times as long as it had been when Elder Tales was a game. In addition, now that they couldn’t make free use of the Fairy Rings, traveling long distances took a shocking amount of time. In order to reach the Depths of Palm from Susukino, they would have to cross the Laiport Strait. Shiroe, Naotsugu, and Li Gan had flown across the strait on griffins, but that didn’t seem possible with a group of twenty-four.

  As a raid guild that had participated in the struggle for supremacy on the Yamato server, Silver Sword had many members with flying mounts, but not everyone ha
d them. It sounded as if they would have been able to find enough if they’d strained themselves, but William simply decided to travel overland. Shiroe went along with that decision.

  Silver Sword was William’s guild, and he was best suited to take command.

  Shiroe and Naotsugu understood this logic very well, so they’d placed themselves under his leadership. The ones who grumbled about this and that were Demiquas and Tetora. Possibly because his pride got in the way, Demiquas didn’t seem able to get by without complaining, and for her part, Tetora plagued Naotsugu with remarks like “I want to become a flying idol.”

  Good grief. She’s really taken a shine to him, Shiroe thought.

  For Naotsugu, all sorts of springtimes were probably on their way.

  If they were going overland, there was only one route: They’d go through the tunnel that ran under the Laiport Strait. As was usual in Elder Tales, this underground tunnel, Z539, was a dungeon. However, for a twenty-four-member full-raid unit whose members’ average level was 93, it was no threat at all. In the first place, anyone who was level 40 could get through this particular dungeon as a solo player.

  Led by William, the raid unit was currently advancing through this dungeon.

  In Elder Tales, the basic unit of group combat was the party, or in other words, six people. This sort of party formed the foundation of twenty-four-member full raids as well. Full raids were composed of four squads of six members each, put together, and at times like this, the parties were referred to by numbers One through Four.

  There was infinite variety in raids, and no single correct configuration existed. However, in general, the basic pattern was for the First party to be built to be outstanding at defense, and for the Second to emphasize balance so that it could act as a mobile unit. Since the main duty of the Third and Fourth parties was attacking, their members were chosen with an emphasis on firepower.