Meanwhile, a woman named Nygglatho was on the run.
She was a troll, and her age was…well, it was over twenty. Yeah.
When she was younger, she attended the Central University for five years, where she mastered basic medicine and went on to acquire four practicing licenses. Immediately after she graduated, she used those qualifications to get a job at the Orlandry Merchants Alliance, one of Regule Aire’s largest trading companies. That was supposed to be the start of her smooth sailing path to becoming one of the elites.
In the midst of it, however, she dropped out splendidly.
It was for no special reason in particular. There were certain principles she refused to betray, certain children she couldn’t leave alone, and a place she couldn’t abandon. Before she knew it, things had turned out the way they did.
It didn’t really bother her that much. She had no regrets about the choices that led her here today, and believed this to be her calling. Even if told she could return to the cushy life she once dreamed of, she’d say “No thanks” in a heartbeat.
So, naturally—
Even now, as she was being hunted by an unknown group of armed men, she held not a single regret.
“Damn it, they’re so persistent!”
They were on the run in the maze-like back alleys.
This district where the titanics resided was oversized compared to the rest of the city. Even Nygglatho, who was considered tall, felt as if she had turned back into a child.
I wonder if this is what the city looks like in Almita’s eyes, she couldn’t help but think. If it weren’t for the situation at hand, she’d have liked to enjoy this illusion a little more.
“Ny, that’s a dead end!”
Right behind her followed a large cyclops man whose size matched the scenery around them. His name was Margomedari Brompton, and he was her senior from her university days. Even after she graduated, in her work she relied a lot on him as a doctor. And currently, they were partners on the run in a life-or-death situation.
Without stopping, she looked back and grumbled: “Geez, didn’t I tell you to cut it out with the ‘Ny’ already? I’m not a kid anymore.”
Night had completely fallen, and the streetlamps dotting the side of the streets were the only sources of light. They couldn’t see their pursuers directly, but could hear their voices and the sound of their approaching footsteps. If they turned back right then, no doubt they’d run into each other even before they entered the next street.
“Why do they have to be so dogged! Is this even within their pay grade?!”
“Obviously! If they just slacked off, Regule Aire would’ve fallen into chaos by now!”
“Since it’s come to this, why not we stop running and take them on… Nah, that’s no good. I can’t possibly eat that much. It’ll reflect badly on your manners if you leave your food unfinished.”
“I’m glad you’ve given up on the idea! But, if possible, I want you to remember the law and your morals in addition to your manners!”
The situation continued to worsen as they bantered.
To start with, cyclopes weren’t suited for this kind of escapade. After all, they could hardly hide behind cover nor conceal the noise from their footsteps. In other words, their only option for escape was to try and outrun their hunters.
“Oh?”
Five men in different clothing jumped into their way, one after the other. Based on their clothes alone, one would’ve thought them to be tourists, which wasn’t at all unusual in Collina di Luce. However, their movements suggest they had received group training, and their gaze could not be said to be friendly in the least. Most telling, though, were the gunpowder firearms in their hands which no normal traveler could possibly possess.
…We’re surrounded?!
Reflexively, they stopped and turned around.
Naturally, the pursuers at their back—numbering seven, as far as they could see—were still approaching them. Swiftly climbing up a slope, they gradually closed the distance, all the while brandishing absurdly large guns.
Gunpowder rifles, as the name implied, were portable weapons that propelled projectiles using the explosion of gunpowder. One of its characteristics was the correlation between size and power—in other words, the larger a gunpowder rifle, the greater its destructive power. Even one that could be held single-handed was powerful enough to kill. That they were bringing something bigger meant they were expecting it to turn into a full-scale urban battle.
If that hits, it would hurt quite a bit.
Trolls were just a little bit tougher than most of the other races. Even if the encounter evolved into an all-out firefight, her injuries wouldn’t be life-threatening, and would heal in no time. Cyclopes were just as tough, if not more so, which meant they should be able to shrug off the attackers’ firepower.
The group of supposed tourists at the front and the unit in military uniforms behind them seemed to have noticed each other. Keeping their distance, they readied their rifles vigilantly.
“Oh my…”
She thought they were being pincered, but apparently not. Could it be that these two groups belong to different factions and didn’t expect to encounter each other here?
“…Now, who are you guys?” She tried asking the group in front, but received no reply.
“And I’m guessing you guys are with the Winged Guard?” This time, she directed the question at the military unit, but the response she got was the same.
“Hmm.”
Of course, there was always the option of breaking through either camp by force. Now, Nygglatho was (as she claimed) a completely ordinary lady, but that didn’t mean she was bad at roughhousing. The incredible physical strength and endurance of the trolls meant that she could easily overwhelm a dozen armed soldiers, even without training.
But that wouldn’t break the stalemate, for she didn’t know what would happen if she destroyed the current power balance. Besides, this shouldn’t be all the pursuers. As time passed, reinforcements could arrive, and they may start using more sophisticated tactics to wear them down till the point of no escape.
If she was by herself, she was confident of making it through the protracted fighting, but she could not say the same for her kind-hearted cyclops companion. Even if he was physically fine, all the violence and mayhem would break him mentally first.
Determining that there was no escape route either way, she glanced to both sides.
As it happened, they were on a long bridge. The only thing to her side was a low steel guard rail and the wide, dried-up waterway running far below it.
“Nygglatho!” Still keeping his distance, one of the uniformed men called out to her.
“Eh, are you talking to me?”
They knew who she was. But when did they find out?
“You have been caught red-handed in the act of kidnapping, and are under suspicion of assassinating multiple key persons! Stop resisting immediately and release the doctor!”
“Kid…napping? Huh? Me?!” For a moment, she didn’t understand what they were saying. “What the hell?!” she retorted, “Aren’t you the ones trying to kidnap him?! What’s with all those scary guns!”
As expected, they were not so amiable as to reply in detail. Instead, they started to inch closer.
“In any case, why are the Winged Guard chasing him! Ain’t it your job to protect Regule Aire?! Then go and arrest actual, dangerous criminals!”
No one there—not even Margomedari—said anything in reply. Frustrated, Nygglatho raised her voice even louder.
“The same goes for you phony travelers! What are you planning to do with him! Just to be clear, he doesn’t have a lot of money! Yes, he receives a good salary, but he spends it all on academic books, and sets the rest aside to pay for his re-enrollment fees!”
“Cut it out, Ny, it’s plain embarrassing!” Margomedari tugged at her sleeve meekly. “Everything will be resolved if I just go with them. In fact, it’d be for the best.”
“In your dreams!”
“I’m being serious. If I go along with either side, the confrontation here ends. The suspicions about you will be cleared up too. And then…”
“What about my request!” She interrupted Margomedari’s blabbering. “I haven’t told you my business yet! I didn’t come all the way to the 11th on a whim. You need to do this for me—”
“Don’t bother, I won’t do it.”
“—But I haven’t even said anything yet.”
“I know what it is even without hearing you out. That’s why I’m telling you not to bother. Adjusting faeries is much more dangerous than you think. No, you must’ve already known that, right?”
Of course I do, she swallowed.
Leprechauns were born all over Regule Aire. Those which physically materialized were protected by the Winged Guard, and transported to the faerie warehouse on Island No. 68. When they reached maturity, they were sent to Island No. 11 where they were adjusted, and subsequently placed under the management of their respective divisions. But customarily, they returned to the 68th when there was no mission, and were managed alongside the younger faeries.
This system had several potential shortcomings—the first being that the adjustment of the faeries was limited to Island No. 11.
If one actually thought about it, the adjustment should have been done on the 68th for efficiency’s sake. Notwithstanding the need for a special facility, it should have been obvious for it to be located on the 68th, or vice versa with the faerie warehouse on the 11th. No, if the concern was solely about Regule Aire’s future, they should have done that. This is the leprechauns we’re talking about, the ones who shoulder the entire burden of Regule Aire’s survival.
Of course, she had received a loose explanation as to why that wasn’t actually the case. Opinions were divided between the Winged Guard and the Orlandry Merchants Alliance regarding the system of faerie weapons, and the most rational approach wasn’t always the right answer. She understood that, and also sensed how there probably was a hidden side to the story.
I felt, and I knew that, but…
“That’s why, Ny, you—”
“You don’t get it.” Of course, she was already aware. She knew that there had to be some other reason, and so she had come to this place.
“You don’t get a single thing!” Without any forewarning, she grabbed the cyclops’s collar and lifted him up.
He weighed around the same as a small self-propelled carriage, and despite her strength as a troll, he was honestly rather heavy. C’mon, this much is nothing to grumble about. After all, she was carrying a much heavier burden.
“Hey, w-wait a sec?!” a panicked voice pleaded.
At the same time, the soldiers and the supposed tourists were also bewildered. The question was clear on their faces: What the hell is this troll going to do?
Only one person seemed to have figured out what was going to happen. “C-cut it out, Ny. I’m bad with high places.”
“Didn’t I tell you to drop the ‘Ny’?”
Hnngh! With a stifled groan, she flexed her biceps and tossed her heavy luggage overhead. Not in front or behind her, but towards the side, over the railing. “I’m not a child anymore!”
“WOOOAAAAAHHH!” Ignoring Margomedari’s scream echoing in her eardrums, she jumped after him, holding down the hem of her skirt.
Her whole body was enveloped by the sensation of weightlessness, and shivers went down her spine. Resisting the urge to close her eyes, she endured the few seconds which seemed to pass painstakingly slowly.
Bracing herself, she landed on her feet with a loud crash, creating a large crater in the stone pavement of the now-dry waterway. While she waited for the pins and needles to pass and the feeling in her legs to come back, she smacked the back of the dizzy Margomedari next to her.
“Come on, let’s go.” After a brief moment, she started to run, pulling his hand as if dragging him along.
She thought she heard sporadic gunfire from behind her, but then an angry voice yelled out: “Stop, you idiots!” She didn’t know whether the voice came from the Winged Guard’s side or the mysterious group, but she heaved a sigh of relief. It wouldn’t have hurt much if it hit her, but she didn’t want holes in her best clothes.
After getting far enough to think they lost their pursuers, they decided to take a break behind some cover.
“How did things turn out this way?” Sitting on a crate, Nygglatho grumbled.
“You think you have the right to complain? After what you just did, Ny?” Leaning against the wall himself, Margomedari shook his head.
“Like I said, cut it out with the ‘Ny.’”
“Why? From my perspective, you’re very much still a child. Age-wise it’s true, and also the way you’re willing to do such unreasonable things at the drop of a hat.”
Cyclopes had a long lifespan. Living up to a century or two, most people of other races certainly seemed young in their eyes. However, Nygglatho too had things she couldn’t give up on.
“That may be so. Still, I now have to be there for those precious kids, so I cannot afford to remain a child myself,” she answered resolutely.
Her resolve appearing to have finally gotten through to him, Margomedari shrugged his shoulders. “Okay, Nygglatho. I get it. I’ll admit, it’s my loss.”
Now for the next step. When she caught her breath again, she spoke, suddenly cutting to the main issue at hand: “Almita…has slipped into a coma.”
Almita was the oldest among the young faeries currently at the faerie Warehouse. She had the dream that signaled her coming of age more than a year ago, but hadn’t yet received the adjustment necessary to become a mature faerie soldier.
“She spends most of her days unconscious. Even the medicine she takes doesn’t give her much relief anymore. Eudea and Masha are still fine for now. But, little by little, the frequency of them collapsing is increasing.”
“…That’s just the normal life expectancy of faeries. Their time will expire before they become adults, and it’s proof they’ve lived properly. It’s only natural.”
At his words, Nygglatho bit her lip and snapped back: “You said it before, didn’t you? That a doctor’s mission is to prolong life by whatever means necessary, no matter how immoral or unorthodox, right?”
“That sounds like something I might have said, yes…”
“Then you should take responsibility for your words.”
“Haha, you’re not going to live for long if you keep tying yourself down like this,” Margomedari whined softly as he looked up at the sky—
“…Did you hear that?”
“Yes.”
They looked at each other, their expressions taut.
It was the footsteps of a dozen or more people running. They were still a distance away, but there was no telling when they might get there.
“Crap, we gotta get out of here!”
Nygglatho got up from the crate. However, the cyclops next to her would not move.
“True. You should run, Nygglatho. That way, those children at the warehouse won’t be deprived of a mother at least. We’ll have avoided the worst of the worst—”
“Arrgh, for goodness’ sake! Why are you talking as if you’re staying behind?! I’m not done talking so you’re coming along as well!”
“That won’t do… It’s been a while since we last met, and I’ve also wanted to talk to you a little more. But I don’t know this area very well myself, so even if we try to escape, we’d just be caught immediately. In that case, you should escape on your own—”
“Damn it, why are you so stubborn! It’s like we’ve been talking past each other since just now!” She hung her head.
Just then, she felt her sleeve being tugged on, so she looked down…and came face to face with a tiny figure who was there before she even knew it.
“Huh?”
It was a short girl in a black hooded cloak. The features behind the hood looked young… Probably no older than ten. The hand which poked out from the hem of her cloak was covered in black fur that appeared soft and fluffy— Was she an ailuranthrope? Even so, she looked rather much like a featureless.
“You are…?”
Nygglatho did not recognize her. But then, a child around that age grew up fast, so she couldn’t be sure if they’d met before… Anyway, it’s not really important right now.
There were more pressing matters at hand.
“The escape route…” A low and husky voice, like that of someone old and tired of life, came from the girl’s mouth.
Nygglatho was taken by surprise at first by her voice, then by the contents of her words.
“This way.”
“Eh? H-hey, wait a minute, why?”
The girl pulled her by the sleeve, but she didn’t budge. She couldn’t just follow a child from who-knew-where.
Besides, it wouldn’t do to let this child get caught up in this mess they were in, especially considering how dangerous their pursuers were. Unlike herself and Margomedari, ailuranthropes (?) weren’t all that bulletproof. They might die instantly with a shot to their vitals.
“Senior, do you know her?”
Her first guess was shot down promptly. “No.”
She probably realized they couldn’t trust her, so she started to talk with much difficulty in her hoarse voice. “I was asked…to take…you.”
“Take us…? To whom?” Nygglatho asked, erring on the side of caution. They were currently on the run, so they couldn’t afford to follow someone they couldn’t trust.
“Odette Jessman.”
“Huh…?”
“Ms. Odette said that if I gave you her name, the two of you would believe me.”
The two of them looked at each other.
It was a name they both knew very well. After all, it belonged to the most untrustworthy person in the world.