Kyou kara Ma no Tsuku Jiyuugyou!

Chapter 4

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Sorry for skipping a week! I haven’t even responded to any comments yet ^-^;; I was celebrating Easter. And by celebrating I mean using the holiday as an excuse to eat an obscene amount of Cadbury mini eggs while cras.h.i.+ng at my mom’s house on the pretty side of the island XD If it makes you feel any better, this is a much longer post than some of the others that I’ve been putting out recently!

Snagged the ill.u.s.tration for this chapter from Portrait of a Demon King.

Chapter 4

      As they got closer to their destination, the division of labor became clearer.
      Stefan Fanberlain used money to win over the soldiers and Sizemore used his strength to eliminate his opponents. So, Dacascos was the one who moved the unconscious ones to inconspicuous places and before he realized it, Chevalier had defeated two or three people. As he dragged the limp soldier’s body, Dacascos peeked at his neighbor.
      Chevalier noticed and looked at him with a smile.
      “Th-that guy looks like he’s having a nice dream,” Dacascos said.
      “Yeah.”
      The arms and legs of the body that he was carrying were flopping around and its eyes were rolled back into its head. The deep pink tongue in his mouth was twitching.
      “Maybe he’s dreaming about eating something delicious.”
      “Yeah.”
      Ninety percent of Chevalier’s answers were one or two syllables. ‘Yeah’ or ‘yes’ or ‘no’ or ‘dunno.’ Even fighters in evil secret societies use more intelligent words these days.
      Even while they were going down the stairs where they wouldn’t run into any guards, the division of labor was quite clear.
      Fanberlain would praise Lady Celi, Sizemore would make little comments here and there while rubbing his arm uncomfortably, and Dacascos would write down the phrases Fanfan used in his mental notebook. The count was already up to forty. The newest one was ‘constrict a beauty’s neck in pearls, tightly.’
      Even while listening to Fanfan’s lyrical praise, Chevalier just smiled and nodded. It was as if a father or brother were listening to compliments about Cecilie.
      Just who are you, Chevalier?
      Could he actually be Lady Cecilie von Spitzweg’s parent? Now that he thinks about it, they have the same s.h.i.+ning blonde hair and n.o.ble facial features. Not as much as the third son, His Excellency Wolfram, but Chevalier looks much more like her than her older brother, Lord Stuffel von Spitzweg, and her eldest son, Lord Gwendal von Voltaire. He might be somewhere between 120 and 150 years old. Probably not her father, but you can’t dismiss the possibility that he’s her younger brother.
      Dacascos became uneasy and asked him a question as he lifted the box.
      “By the way, Mr. Chevalier… What’s your last name?”
      “Dunno,” answered the manservant of the queen as he smiled, his white teeth showing.
      What does the answer ‘dunno’ mean when you ask someone their last name? Does he just hate it or is his last name actually Dunno? Or, is it somehow related to that flirtatious game called ‘try to think’ that ladies play when they ask you to guess?
Dacascos has never won at that game. His wife springs them on him at every opportunity, but at present he stands in complete and utter defeat. His Poison Lady, Amblin, does things like this: ‘put your hand to your heart and try to think hard.’ Abbreviated: ‘try to think.’
      “… I’m sorry… I don’t know.”
      Dacascos inadvertently fell into his usual bad habit and started to cry. Even his prided bald head that seems like it would come in handy in a dark street at night lost its s.h.i.+ne.
      “What’s wrong, Mr. Dacascos? It’s nothing to cry about. I don’t have a last name. Just Chevalier is good enough. You’re like that too. Aren’t you, Mr. Dacascos? Mr. Nanatan Micotan Dacascos Lilit Latchie. Right, Mr. Nanatan Micotan Dacascos?” (1)
      This is the first time in a while he’d heard the blonde-haired attendant speak so much. More importantly, this was also the first time in a while that he’d heard his entire name. It was so agonizing that he almost dropped the box.
      “P-p-p-please stop! Please stop saying my name down to the last letter! I-it’s my family name but it sends sh-s.h.i.+vers down my spine!”
      “Is that so? I think that’s very cute. Like a newlywed couple huh, Mr. Nanatan Micotan Dacky?”
      “Ughaah.”
      He had tried to figure out Chevalier’s origins and ended up having his question evaded.
      They could vaguely hear the cheers of the crowd in the arena through the thick stone walls.
      “Oh, seems like something happened.”
      Sizemore placed his ear against the wall, but he naturally couldn’t figure out any details. He pulled himself together and continued down the gloomy staircase to the treasure room. There were two landings with guards posted, but they managed to get through them easily. Before long, they reached the bottom floor and there were three wooden doors with placards hung on them. It was a sight that stirred up a sense of adventure.
      “It’s likely that two out of the three are traps leaving just one real door.”
      Captain Sizemore’s large shoulders fell as he stroked his chin that had started to get stubbly. He can deal with anything when it comes to the sea, but he has absolutely no experience with treasure hunting in a maze. Once he’s on land, he’s powerless.
      Dacascos tried putting his fingers on his temples and spinning around with his eyes closed. His ears started ringing. “I got it. It’s definitely this door with ‘Vacant’ hangi-”
      “Then let’s open all of them at once.”
      No one listened to his opinion.
      Fanfan’s plan went like this.
      Luckily, there were three doors and four people. If three of the people each took a door, most likely one of them is the real entrance. If by any chance the other two doors are traps, in the worst case scenario there will be two people left. The remaining two should be able to carry their target out.
      “We won’t get anywhere if we worry about it. I’ll take the middle door.”
      An impressive aspect of him is that he’s also gambling with his own life. A plan that two-thirds of the partic.i.p.ants would fall into a trap isn’t something suited for someone who isn’t a soldier. Despite the fact that he was inevitably interested in the treasure, his business spirit was admirable.
      He unsteadily grasped the doork.n.o.b and lightly licked his lips in nervousness.
      “… If I lose my life here… Please tell Cecilie this. ‘Ah, your laugh is the splash of a stimulating stream. Your sigh is the bittersweet fragrance of a rose. Your eyes sparkle like the morning dew amongst the verdant leaves. Your lips are-”
      “A-all of that?”
      “Of course. Verbatim, if you please. I even took the time to think up an alliteration with ‘splash,’ ‘stimulating,’ and ‘stream.’”
      This seems like it is beyond Sizemore’s skills.
      “Well, let’s pray that it is a needless worry. It’s alright. Although I am inexperienced, I am the man who inherited the name of Fanfan. I have never made a mistake with forward trading.”
      The business man, the man of the sea, and the blonde attendant stand before a door and grasp their respective doork.n.o.bs. Fanberlain was the one who gave the signal.
      “Are you ready? Missouri, Smetana, your company’s card!”
      Before Dacascos could ask about the ‘your company’s card’ part, the three men opened the doors. Sizemore and Chevalier reflexively protected their faces. However, neither poison gas nor spears jumped out.
      “… The same room has three entrances…”
      They were just lined up next to each other.
      “However, there might be traps farther in. Everyone, please be care-” Sizemore started.
“Waah!” yelled Fanfan like a child as he ran into the treasure room. He ran around as he pleased in the warehouse that could fit a hundred men. “Amazing! There are so many valuable items here I can’t count them! Look at the elegance in the waist of this naked statue. And then here, come look at this statue of the Demon King! Can you feel the terror that the creator felt of the Demon King?”
      “Well, the head is an elephant.” (2)
      “That’s the amazing part! It was used in a ceremony for a curse.”
      So he partic.i.p.ated in sorcery in some unknown place? Furthermore, he grips a splintering wooden doll and lifts it to eye level.
      “Ah, this is impressive as well. Very nice work. This was used for a curse? Oh, the weight of this thick mirror is remarkable. This was used for a curse. Oh, a string belt for a curse is lying here. If someone wears this they’ll be cursed and their stamina will take a nosedive. Ah! This is the cursed, nailed banana.”
      Have they not stored any non-cursed items!? The higher-ups at the temple seem to be collectors of dangerous artifacts.
      The others left the businessman to himself and returned to their mission of swapping out the box. They had to quickly find their target and swap it out with a fake. Dacascos was the type to attack from the corners when playing white and black stone games so he wandered around the corners of the room.
      “Oh hey.”
      A rectangular object of a similar size was carelessly left on the bare ground. Pus.h.i.+ng the laundry on top of it off to the side, he saw this written on the lid in large letters:
      ‘The End of the Wind’
      Surprised by the incredible obviousness, Dacascos lost his voice.

-------

(1)    So about Dacascos’s name… I forgot demons have their first name last and humans have it the other way so I messed his name up in whatever other chapter/story I wrote his name in. I honestly can’t remember which post it’s in so I might not fix it XD That being said… I’m still not entirely sure what order his name is supposed to go in. However, judging by the way Chevalier says it, it looks like his last name is only the ‘Lilit Latchie’ part so that’s what I went with. And there’s no established way to write this in the alphabet so sorry if you hate my transliteration ^-^;;
(2)    This was a pun. The word for statue in j.a.panese (zou 像) is p.r.o.nounced the same as elephant (zou 象)

      Inside me, the torture in the darkness continued.
      The headache that came at the same time as the throbbing, the metallic smell that spread inside my nose. My eyes hurt as if they were stabbed with needles and the loud reverberation in my ears won’t stop. Someone is talking, but it just keeps going on without me being able to understand the words. It was as if I wasn’t just hearing it through my ears, but like there were headphones right on my brain.
      Like I was trapped inside a bell at a temple and someone was banging on it from the outside.
      “…-ya… s.h.i.+buya…!”
I desperately try to open my dry, stuck together eyelids. It felt like I was going to hear my skin ripping apart. Gold and green dimly enter my gaze. Beyond that was the same darkness from before with little bits of white light dancing about. It’s snow.
      The blonde-haired person slightly narrows his eyes and I can see his lips move just a little bit.
      “There’s no choice.”
      There’s… no… choice?
      “Whoa, stop it Wolfram! He’ll die if you do that!”
      My consciousness rapidly rose to the surface. Lord von Bielefelt had lifted the metal club and was about to hit me.
      “He lost… -sciousness… so… waking him up that way is too viole-… eh.”
      When I try to lift my head, nausea and dizziness. .h.i.t me. I inevitably have to put my head back down. The back of my head hit something not at all firm. I have a bad feeling. This taut, fleshy feeling is…
      “Your Majesty, this is all I can do for you.”
      Just as I feared, my head was in Josak’s lap.
      “s.h.i.+buya, here, water.”
      “Gugh.”
      A s...o...b..ll was shoved into my mouth. It was Murata. He’s gripping another one in his right hand. I suppose he prepared second helpings. I try to wave my hand to tell him I don’t need it, but my sentiments didn’t get across.
      “Mmph… mpha! What are you doing?! It went all the way to the back of my throat.”
      “Are you finally awake?” Wolfram was leaning on the club to relieve some of the pressure on his back. His expression suddenly softens. I look around with only my eyes as I stay lying down. Murata was squatting down and Josak’s thighs are under my head.
      But he isn’t here.
      I use all of my strength to lift my creaking arm and touch my cheek with freezing cold fingers.
      It was wet. Probably from the snow.
      “Conrad?”
      The third son looks away.
      “Wolf, Conrad was… there, wasn’t he? For sure. He was wearing kind of yellow clothes, a uniform like he was a Tigers fan. Hey Wolf, Conrad’s not here.”
      “Worry about yourself!” At Murata’s reprimand in an unusually strong tone, I immediately shut my mouth. “You fell from up there! Well, in the middle Lord Weller skillfully grabbed you, though. If he didn’t you would have smashed into the ground and might have broken all the bones in your body.”
      “Up there?”
      A little distance away, there were several referees and workers. Grey lumps are falling from up high off of snow shovels suitable for areas with heavy snowfall. Just what are they doing?
      “That’s…”
      “They’re getting rid of the round stage because they have to save the guy that got buried. You did it, didn’t you?”
      “I did!? I buried someone!? Who?”
      “Who… Don’t you remember it at all?”
      I didn’t remember.
      “Does that mean I did it again? The usual Super High-and-Mighty Mode? No, before that, buried? Who got buried? That’s bad. Is that person..?”
      “Von Grantz is alive. Honestly, he’s so tough it’s infuriating,” Josak said as if he was disappointed all the way to the bottom of his heart. “But, displaying that amazing magic and not having any memory of it is a bit of a loss. So is only the person himself not knowing how heroic and terrifying he was. Ah, or maybe it isn’t a loss but a blessing?”
      “I did something dreadful and indecent and grotesque and something to make people suspicious of my character again, didn’t I?”
      “Oh Your Majesty, beauty isn’t everything. For me, just being able to see you make Adalbert go ‘gyafun!’ was, how shall I say, it pulled at my heartstrings.”
      However, the American Football Macho wasn’t the only one who said ‘gyafun.’
      I timidly reach up to touch my throat and my fingers touch blackish blood that had started to harden. Luckily it didn’t hurt much, but if I move it will probably open right back up. And not that it matters, but when is the word ‘gyafun’ from?
      “Why am I alive? It’s weird.”
      It’s been a while since this happened. Even if I used magic that surpa.s.sed the power of man, these last few times I’ve had a slight recollection of it. But this time, I don’t remember a single thing. I was just closed in the darkness the entire time. When I think back on it, I feel as if my body will start shaking from unease and fear.
      “… What’s wrong with me?”
      “There’s always something wrong with you. It’s not something that just started now.” Wolfram slowly crouches down. His movements are awfully stiff. That reminds me, how is his back? I hope it doesn’t hurt for too long.
      “Look the other way. I’m going to do something about that injury on your neck. Gurrier, do you have a needle and thread?”
      “I do. Correcting measurements is required if you want to dress all the more stylishly, after all. That being said, should I sew it up? I have some confidence in my sewing ability.”
      “Sew? Without anesthesia!? Hey, use that healing technique! You said that you could at least stop someone’s bleeding.”
      “Don’t move.”
      I reach a hand out to Murata looking for help, but he rejects me with a ‘you reap what you sow.’
      “It can’t be helped. Everyone desperately tried to stop you, but you went on a rampage all on your own, s.h.i.+buya.”
      “Aren’t you gradually turning into a malicious character?”
      I caught a glimpse of two people in white clothes out of the corner of my eye. Their hair is tucked neatly under their hoods and they’re running towards us so fast they’re tilted towards the ground. The pure white suits them even though they are small and the sense of cleanliness overflowing from them is promising.
      “Hey look, the rescue squad! We might as well let the professionals handle the medical care.”
      “I am sorry for keeping you waiting. Oh Your Majesty, you look to be in such pain.”
      “Huh?”
      The white-robed angel that kneeled before me had her collar opened wide. Faced with an open view of clear and distinct cleavage, my bleeding doubles. I hurriedly clamp a hand over my nose.
      “Bu… Lad-Lady Feli?”
      “Yes, Your Majesty. Your. Lady. Cecilie. It’s been such a long time. Have you been well? It was lonely not being able to see you. Oh Your Majesty, your body stained in blood from injuries is s.e.xy too. Any lady would be instantly bewitched.”
      “Mother!? The arena is prohibited for women. How did you get here…”
      “Shh, Wolf. I just borrowed an outfit from the rescue squad. Right, Josak?”
      “Quite admirable.”
      For some reason, the former queen that appeared out of nowhere sought the approval of Josak. Her golden curls were tied up tightly. Maybe those who weren’t soldiers were allowed to not wear their hair long. Ah, I’d be satisfied if Lady Celi sewed me up. Please use a running st.i.tch or a backst.i.tch. Unconsciously, my face relaxes.
      “What’s that sudden change in att.i.tude, Yuuri? Your face turned submissive.” Wolfram was not amused.
      While examining my injury, Lady Cecilie discovered Murata. Her enchanting body twisted up fretfully.
      “Ah, you’re His Highness that I’ve heard about, right? Just like I was told, neither your eyes or hair is black, but… you’re a very, extremely cute person! You really do look a lot like His Majesty. Aww, I want to greet you officially and honor you with a pa.s.sionate embrace, but… Your Highness, please forgive me. Please don’t think of me as a rude woman.”
      “I don’t mind, Your Previous Majesty. Right now examining s.h.i.+buya’s wound is more important.”
      After giving her usual ‘call me Celi,’ one of The Great Demon Kingdom’s Three Great Beauties places her fingers on my neck. The chilly and good feeling spreads not only across the surface, but inside the wound as well.
      “… It’s alright. A wound this shallow doesn’t need to be st.i.tched up. But Your Majesty, for someone like me who only has ordinary magic power, I couldn’t possibly use such a large scale attack in a place like this. There’s a temple next door and the elements that obey exorcism are everywhere… To be able to display such mighty power in such adversity, Your Majesty is truly a great man.”
      “I-I’m used to adversity.”
      No way. A truly great pract.i.tioner would take responsibility for everything he did. However, when it comes to me I don’t even remember what I did. Someone who completely forgets a few dozen minutes of what he did can only be called a huge idiot. I already have amnesia at age sixteen. What were the side dishes I had last night?
      “Ow.”
      “I’m sorry. It will hurt a bit because the tissue is joining. It would be fine to just wrap a bandage around it and leave it alone, but even if we close it just a little bit, it will be easier for you to move around.”
      “It, it’s okay. Please do it.”
      Someone held my hand. Before I even have time to worry about it, I end up using that hand to deal with pain. It has thin and cold fingers. Even if I turn my head I can’t see them because they’re behind my healer, but it’s probably the other rescue squad member.
      “… Flynn?”
      At my murmur I didn’t think would reach, the strength gripping my hand increased as if in response.
      “Okay Your Majesty, now let’s just wrap it in cloth. I planned on pouring in plenty of my love, but as expected I can only provide emergency healing in this place… It will be bad if the injury opens so I recommend avoiding energetic motions… Oh my, saying energetic motions brings things to mind…”
      h.e.l.lo, previous queen, h.e.l.loooo?
      “And then,” the s.e.xy Queen says as she abruptly turns serious and places her palms against my jaw. Emerald green eyes the same as the third son’s waver for a moment with unpleasant emotions. “Please forgive Conrart for what he has done. I apologize on behalf of my son.”
      “You don’t have to apologize, Lady Celi…”
      “No, I do.” She pressed her rosy lips together and shook her head and one section of her golden curls came undone. “It all started with me. How many hards.h.i.+ps have I put that child through because of my stupidity? If I started regretting them I would never be able to regret them all. But Your Majesty, believe at least this. That child would never betray you. There must be a reason for this. A complicated reason that he can’t reveal now. So…”

      Cecilie placed one hand to her heart and placed the other on mine.
      “Believe in him.”
      This sincere and calm tone she is using is 180 degrees different than her usual self. Her eyes were full of kindness. The very bottom of my spine tingled.
      Huh, so she really is a mother.
      No matter how young she looks or if she charms one man after another and engrosses herself in new loves, she is definitely a mother. Most likely I’m the only one who didn’t know that basic fact.
      “… I believe in him.” Her face lights right up. “Conrad wouldn’t become my enemy for no reason. Even just now… I don’t remember it, but he rescued me.”
      I look around while taking care of my stiffening injury, but he is not within my view.
      “Even though he’s not here again.”
      “But he’s alive,” Wolfram said with a sigh. It seems his thoughts just spilled out of his mouth. “There’s no better news than that.”
      The referee who had been watching us walked over impatiently. It was the man who got left on the ground.
      They all look similar so I can’t tell them apart immediately, but I recognize the thickness of his stubble.
      “That’s good enough, rescue squad. Representatives of Caloria, move out immediately. There will be an audience with His Highness after this.”
      “An audience? We’re meeting someone important? What a pain. It’s going to be a garden party or something. Wolf, go as a representative.”
      “Watch your tongue! His Highness will graciously bestow upon you a drink and personally grant your wish.”
      “We’ll just put that in the suggestion box… Wait!? Grant our wish? I won? Did I win!?”
      “You didn’t realize it until now?”
      Murata and Wolfram looked stunned. The third opponent was American Football Macho, Adalbert von Grantz. What cowardly, underhanded trick did I use to defeat a strong, muscle-bound guy like that? The reason I can only a.s.sume it was cowardly is because I understand my own fighting ability.
      It sucks, if I say so myself.
      “… Upsy daisy…”
      I tried to stand up while saying something an old person would, but I couldn’t put any strength into my legs. This exhaustion is the same as usual. I even lose my appet.i.te after I use magic. With Josak supporting me under my arms, I finally stand up. I have to walk a little bit to warm up my body.
When I pa.s.s by Lady Celi in her rescue squad costume, the former queen gives an impish smile and changes places with the human next to her.
      Looking down, Flynn said one word in a stiff voice without raising her head.
      “… Congratulations.”
      “Yeah. Oh, no, what are you saying? This is sort of your husband’s victory after all.”
      She must have not liked something about my response because she stiffened even more and fell silent. She should be more upfront about her happiness. Murata played with his ear with a know-it-all look.
      “They’re complicated eh, maiden’s hearts?”
      I wonder if he’s remembering Sister Christine’s Sweet Trap era.

      Team Caloria’s Representatives were led to meet royalty by a guide with an armband. The heroic three contestants and one supervisor.
      We were just in the temple right next to the arena, but for me whose whole body was like jello, long stairways were extremely troublesome. I won’t let my knees give out.
      “Your Majesty, shall I lend you my back?”
      “It’s okay, Josak. I don’t want to be treated like an old person. Especially since normally we have an absurd difference in age.”
      Putting strength into my toe tips, I climbed by stepping firmly on stair after stair. On top of it all, it’s been hard to breathe for some time now. I reflected upon my irresponsibility during the match and am now making up for it by properly wearing my mask. My disguise as Norman Gilbit is perfect, but thanks to that my face is buried under sweat and carbon dioxide.
      Be that as it may, our reception is awful. Even if we’re the winning team as a joke, we should be lifted up by a bunch of guys and carried around in a parade. If that’s impossible, they should call back that gondola that flew away and lower us down like in my parents’ wedding… Now that I thought that far, I’m reliving how many times they showed the video recording to me when I was a child. On second thought, forget the gondola.
      The audience room we arrived at was the size of a basketball court. The walls, floor, and ceiling were all completely yellow. Of course there are different shades of yellow, but this room is completely lemon yellow. My head started to ache.
      “I’ve been in a building that was completely plated in gold before, though.”
      “Well Murata, just because you’re knowledgeable about the past doesn’t mean you can brag about the everyday life of French or Russian n.o.blemen.”
      “No, Kinkakuji,” my friend from Earth said with a straight face. (1)
      “Kin…”
      “Come to think of it, in my uncle’s bathroom even the inside of the chamber pot was gold.”
      Even the former Crown Prince on his 82nd year of n.o.ble life commented on it.
      Not only have the only metallic and reputable things I’ve collected been a metal bat and a golden angel, I didn’t even get a toy kitchen so I lament my lack of life experience.
      “Hey, don’t be so discouraged. I haven’t lived in a gold, silver, or bejeweled room even once, Your Majesty. Although I have stayed for seven nights in a torture chamber rank with the smell of blood and feces. Yeah, the guest in the next room went mad and screamed all the time and I could hear his shrieks through the wall.”
      I’m really lucky I have a lack of life experience.
      A yellow bamboo part.i.tion divided the room about a third of the way from the seat of honor. I can see the vague silhouette of a person inside, but I can’t determine their face or gender. I thought I would get the rare chance to see a Kenichi Mikawa from another world, but unfortunately it’s through a bamboo screen. (2)
      “Your Highness, I have brought before you the three representatives from the autonomous region of Caloria, territory of s.h.i.+maron, the winners of the Big s.h.i.+maron anniversary celebration ‘Use your knowledge, speed and skill to win! The World’s Best Fighter Tournament,’ plus one spare.”
      After saying that in one breath, the guide lowers his posture and waits for words from the other side of the bamboo. But anyway, Murata was being treated as a spare? So if someone didn’t take part, he would have been moved into the empty slot. I’d have liked to see how he would have fought, even if it was just for show.
      “Your Highness, I beg an audience…”
      When the guide calls out again, a voice like a pretty heroine in an anime comes from behind the blinding, lemon yellow curtain.
      “It’s not ‘Your Highness,’ it’s ‘we,’ okay?” (3)
      Eh? What’s up with this stereotypical, pretty girl voice? It’s a nasally voice midway between a soprano and an alto that sentence endings like ‘okay’ and ‘you know’ go really well with. If they use ‘ya know’ they’ll end up sounding like Hajime-chan’s papa. (4)
      I was surprised at the voice, but the guide was genuinely amazed. He’s standing in a pose with all five fingers on his hands spread out like he’s holding huge, F-cup b.o.o.bs.
      “A-are you not Your Highness but Your Majesty!?”
      “That’s right, it’s us.”
      “Th-th-th-th-that was berry rude of me!” (5)
      The punchline of that bad pun stung. I remember how unbearably hungry I am.
      While I wasn’t paying attention, the single guide turned into five and even soldiers with light armor and weapons had entered the room. Most of the humans couldn’t hide their shaking and their foreheads and temples were coated with a cold sweat.
      Why are they so panicked? The prince was just a representative after all. Isn’t Her Majesty making an appearance a cause for celebration?
Murata tilted his head and whispered to me so no one else could hear.
      “I wonder what kind of ‘us’ they are. My guess is a young girl in gla.s.ses.”
      “Didn’t you like the priestess type?”
      However, our expectations were completely betrayed. This world is cruel.
      Her Majesty with the beautiful girl voice behind the bamboo was revealed because of a report from a soldier.   A middle-aged soldier with gentle curls thrust his way through the guards at the door and came close to us. For a moment he seemed surprised as if wondering what sort of ceremony was taking place, but he immediately addresses the guide from before. This guide seems to be quite the important person compared to his job.
      “Commander, reporting! According to the report by bas.e.m.e.nt security, it seems that thieves have infiltrated the treasure room.”
      “What!?”
      After giving a response like in a police drama, the guide/commander’s hair bristled. But the ones who gave us an impressive reaction weren’t just the commander and the soldiers.
      “Our box was stolen!?”
      Flinging the bamboo screen aside with sinewy fingers, the king of Big s.h.i.+maron in his high-cla.s.s position jumped out. There weren’t even any stones in the way and he stumbles and tips over and he clings to the slats in the bamboo screen with his skinny arms. The j.a.panese-style, lemon yellow curtain couldn’t withstand the weight of an adult and tore.
      “Your Majesty Belal!”
      With a king from another country falling clumsily before me, I stood stock still unable to even help.
      I mean, it wasn’t a priestess or a young girl with gla.s.ses.
      “A, an old man!?”
      Anyone would accept that I hesitated upon witnessing a man with a voice like that.
      What covered his brittle arms and legs was a yellow cloth with red and blue vertical stripes. It wasn’t quite to the degree of Mikawa or Kobayas.h.i.+, but it was at least as flashy as a j.a.panese traffic light. His reddish brown hair was in a splendid bowl cut. He had a sharp jaw and hollow cheeks and he had an insane look to him like he would be the lone survivor in any monster movie. (6)
      And even though he’s a man… and an old man near forty at that, he has a stereotypical, pretty anime girl voice.
      This is really uncomfortable.
      The leader of Big s.h.i.+maron called His Majesty Belal kept on asking questions even while his va.s.sals helped him stand.
      “Hey, the box? Did our box get stolen?”
      “It is alright, Your Majesty. Throwing cloth on top of it and pretending it was something of no value was a success. It seems like the thieves took the Demon King statue and several ornaments. They did not lay their hands on the box.”
      “Demon King statue?” His Majesty Belal the Traffic Light’s eyes widened in disappointment. “The one with the elephant head?”
      “Yes. We believe they may be followers of a demonic religion.”
      “It wasn’t solid gold or esoteric stone or anything. What are they going to do with something like that?”
      Murata had a look of annoyed surprise on his face. Maybe he wors.h.i.+pped Satan in a past life. Could Sister Christine’s Sweet Trap actually have been a seductive way to lead people down an evil path?
      When I turn to interrogate him, I caught sight of a young soldier behind him. The man was speaking to himself unconsciously with only his lips moving.
"It has much more value than a box."
      It seems that the unknown terror that ‘The End of the Wind’ contained was not known to all of the citizens.
      “Well anyway, that’s good that the box wasn’t stolen.”
      “However, Your Majesty… the guards who let the thieves in are quarrelling over something strange.”
      “Something strange? Wha~t?”
      The inward curls on the bowl cut swung around wildly. His hair is much shorter than the long hair that Sizemore longed for so even though he’s the king, he’s not of a military cla.s.s.
      Seeing the everyday life of the royal family of a foreign country, we in Team s.h.i.+maron completely lost all of our tension. Now that things have turned out this way, my exhaustion and hunger are starting to bother me.
      Yamada, bring me a zabuton cus.h.i.+on and some tea. (7)
      “Most of the soldiers claim they were hit with a surprise attack, but there are a number of them who were in possession of an inappropriate amount of money… They’re saying that those ones rifled through everyone’s wallets while they were unconscious or they picked it up somewhere, so… among the soldiers in the unit there is a bit of unfairness springing up.”
      “What? Unfairness?”
      On the other side of the bamboo screen that was only half hanging up, there were still several figures. Are there retainers waiting back there? However, the interest I had after I glanced in that direction was instantly blown away by Belal’s high-pitched yell.
      Murata, Wolfram, Josak, and even the soldiers were caught off guard.
      “We can’t help if it’s unfair. This world is steeped in unfairness after all! Just look.”
      He rolled up his loose sleeves and showed us the upper part of his arm with its joints prominently sticking out. There were two lines etched into the dry, lifeless, yellow skin.
      “… A tattoo?”
      It looked like there were two parallel, green bandages wrapped around his arm. I couldn’t make it out clearly, but it looked like it was a linear and detailed pattern.
      “Here, see? See? It looks just like it.”
      I didn’t know what it was being compared to so I could only remain silent.
      The king was being uplifted little by little and the tone of his voice rose with him. At the hysterically high pitch, Wolfram’s fingers unconsciously moved to his sword.
      “Even though it was made just like it, we can’t use the box! Our father and our uncle and the ones before them all had it made the same way! Even though we a~ll made our names Belal. Even though our father and our son and those before us were a~ll Belal. Despite that, not a si~ngle one of us could become the key. Even Belal I’s arm and Belal II’s arm were useless!”
      I felt my skin get gooseb.u.mps under my overcoat.
      The king of s.h.i.+maron with his left sleeve rolled up gave a dry laugh that echoed throughout the room.
      “It’s not fair! It’s unfair, unfair! We should have been born into the Weller family as well.”
      Hearing a word we were familiar with, we stiffened. Why is the royal family of s.h.i.+maron talking about Lord Weller’s name?
      “And then we could have become the key… And then our uncle would treat us kindly…” The insane yelling gradually becomes sobbing. At the same time, the power left his body and he slumped down onto his knees on the ground. “… And our father and younger brother… wouldn’t have had to die…”
      “This is unsightly, Belal IV.”
      At the voice of a dignified man that seemed to be a mentor, the man called His Majesty reflexively looked up. He was startled and the pupils in his almost empty eyes shrank.
      “Your Highness!”
      All of the soldiers stand up straight and face towards the figure beyond the bamboo screen. This newcomer clearly commanded more respect from his va.s.sals.
      “… His Highness?” I discreetly ask the walking encyclopedia next to me while covering my mouth with my hand. “Usually His Majesty is higher up than His Highness, right?”
      “His Majesty’s status is higher.”
      If I compare the relations.h.i.+p between myself and Wolfram it’s easy to understand. From whatever angle you look at us, he’s the more distinguished… Oh man. But then again, since the third son’s t.i.tle of prince has ‘former’ in front of it, even his att.i.tude is a lot more distinguished… Man, oh man.
      From behind the half torn down bamboo screen, ‘His Highness’ appears. Belal IV, sprawled on the floor, shrinks back like a child.
      “But I wonder about authority,” Murata adds.
      This man is probably the one who came down in the flashy, showy gondola. ‘His Highness’ certainly did seem to have more authority than His Majesty. Just by him appearing, the atmosphere in the audience room tensed and not a single person had a dissatisfied look on their face.
      “… Uncle…”
I see. He is the uncle that isn’t kind to His Majesty Belal. He looks to be over seventy in human years, but he’s st.u.r.dy and doesn’t rely on a cane. Over half of his military style long hair and splendid beard was white.
      However, his clothing was like Sachiko Kobayas.h.i.+ and he had wings on his back in Takarazuka style. (8)
      One eye was cloudy, perhaps from old age, but the other was strong and sharp and reminded me of a bird of prey.
      The fourth generation king that should be in the prime of his life did not look like an adult at all when compared to his uncle. He had his arms grabbed and was being moved around like luggage.
      “Well then, have I asked His Majesty to bestow his blessing upon the victors?”
      His tone of voice was calm and polite, but the reversed power relations.h.i.+p was obvious. His Highness who did not inherit the throne had a higher rank than the current king of Big s.h.i.+maron.
      Witnessing the family situation of the royal family abroad, the group of Caloria representatives grew uncomfortable.
      “Did I ask, Your Majesty Belal IV?”
      “… No… You didn’t ask, Your Highness Belal II.”
      Eh, another Bela-chan!?
      Stop naming your relatives the same name. The people concerned might understand while talking amongst themselves, but as a guest all you can do is be confused.
      “So His Majesty and His Highness are both Belal… Is there some kind of religious reason for that or something?”
      At my amazed muttering, Murata chides me in a small voice.
      “Shh! I know a bit about their names so I’ll tell you about it later.”
      He is the Twin Black Great Sage. He definitely has enough knowledge to cover naming practices.
      His Highness the Second stroked his beard with his fingertips and spoke coldly to his nephew.
      “Didn’t I say Your Majesty’s job was to sit on the throne and not say anything?”
      “You did say that… But we wanted to be of some help to Your Highness.”
      “Don’t do unnecessary things!”
      After getting yelled at by the robust old man, the man near forty broke down into tears.
      The sense of justice inside of me started to rear its head.
      Isn’t calling your nephew’s sincere good will ‘unnecessary’ particularly narrow-minded? Of course, from a uh, Confucian type of mindset there’s no use in arguing and the older person is more important, but even so he is ‘His Majesty’ after all so how about treating him with more respect? If Belal IV who has an inferiority complex in normal circ.u.mstances is dwarfed even more, wouldn’t that be bad for the citizens? Oh, and I’m not saying this because I have my own inferiority complex as a rookie king.
      “You know-”
      “Stop. What’s the point of admonis.h.i.+ng the morals of an enemy country,” Wolfram warned me before I could even get into the beginning of what I wanted to say.
      “I apologize, Uncle, but… Lord Weller…”
      His Majesty the Fourth who looked like he was going to start crying at any moment shook his bowl cut back and forth.
      Just when I was thinking why I felt so much sympathy for him, I realized it was because I could only hear his voice when he was facing away. If I was looking at him head on, no matter how much he cried I would only think he had to grow up.
      “We want to be of use to Uncle… being thought of as a parasite is painful… I mean… since Conrart came, Uncle only spends time with him…”
      All three of them held me back as I almost started to run forward unconsciously. With both of my sleeves and the back hem of my s.h.i.+rt firmly held in place, I couldn’t run forward and ask the uncle and nephew any questions.
      Say it again! Belal IV, again!
      What about Lord Conrart Weller?
      However, I didn’t need to ask the sobbing man. The other person behind the bamboo screen walked out into the center of the room to soothe the king.
      “Don’t worry about me. His Highness the Second does not think of you as a parasite,” he said softly as he placed a hand on the frail back of the king only in name. He even had a refres.h.i.+ng smile on his face.
      The man who had called me Your Majesty until recently. No matter how many times I told him to stop, he always ended up saying it out of habit.
      “Now, Your Majesty, you should rest in your room. His Highness will take care of the rest of the ceremony.”
      I felt as if every single last drop of blood in my body rushed out through my feet.
      I glared at the third person who was behind the bamboo screen.
      I see, Lord Conrart Weller.
      “… Your new ‘Your Majesty’ is that man, huh?”
      I was supposed to be keeping calm, but my body wouldn’t stop shaking.

---------

(1)    Kinkakuji is a temple in Kyoto that is plated in gold. It’s a famous tourist sight.
(2)    Kenichi Mikawa is an Enka singer famous for his gaudy costumes. In one of the last chapters in novel 7, Yuuri remarked to himself that the prince’s outfit looked like something Mikawa would wear. Here’s a video of him singing in an old Kohaku Song Battle.
(3)    The ‘we’ used here is the royal ‘we’ but English doesn’t have a plural for ‘you’ unless you count y’all or youse guys so I’m not sure just how much sense that made ^-^;;
(4)    Reference to a manga series called Hajime-chan ga Ichiban (Hajime is Number One). I’ve never read it so I can’t really say much about it, but it’s about a girl named Hajime who has quintuplets for younger brothers that got scouted out by a music agency and she’s kind of like the mother to them because her family was poor and she had to help out a lot at home.
(5)    So the real pun here was a play on the past, humble form of ‘to do’ (itas.h.i.+mas.h.i.+ta) and italian pasta (itames.h.i.+ pasuta). Mine was kind of lame~
(6)    Sachiko Kobayas.h.i.+ is pretty much the female version of Kenichi Mikawa.
(7)    This is a reference to Takao Yamada who is on the comedy show Shouten which is about a group of comedians who compete to make the best jokes. They’re awarded zabuton seat cus.h.i.+ons to sit on or they get them taken away depending on the jokes they make and whoever is sitting on ten stacked zabuton first wins. Yamada was the one who carried the cus.h.i.+ons.
(8)    Takurazuka is a famous theater group composed of all women. Their performances are dramatic and fancy and part of their draw is that all of the roles are played by women.

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