Chapter 7 It has been less than a day since I started a conflict with them.
It was only then that I knew, the Saralegui who had travelled with us and the Yels.h.i.+ waiting for us in Seisakoku are brothers, and that was when I got caught in their schemes, was even forced into signing a doc.u.ment with my country’s fate at stake—all this, not more than 24 hours ago.
“You are Saralegui!? Don’t tell me you swapped places… What’s happening here, why are you sitting on this country’s imperial throne?”
Aside from those gla.s.ses that really suit him, the only difference between the brothers is their hair length and clothes. Other than that, it’s just that the younger brother Yels.h.i.+ looks more like a puppet, but that’s still a mistakable difference.
So the one here isn’t the Emperor of Seisakoku Yels.h.i.+, but the king of Shou s.h.i.+maron Saralegui. It’s true that his acting skills could fool an entire crowd.
The little finger with the diamond ring I can’t remove starts to hurt.
Calm down, the one who can control this ring is the little brother Yels.h.i.+, not the older Saralegui. Sara can’t use houjutsu, that’s why he was kicked out of the country he was born in. So the pain I feel know, must be a trick caused by my cowardly mentality.
“Your reaction is so exaggerated, Yuuri.”
Saralegui shakes those extravagant sleeves and holds out his hands, looking just like his younger brother. That’s right, this is what they mean by s.h.i.+nzoku.
“It’s just a game, Yuuri. Since we’re twins, of course we would want to swap places. Isn’t that the fun of being born as identical twins? And besides, we haven’t seen each other for more than ten years, can you blame us for wanting to play a little?”
“…So you’re saying, executing someone is a game?”
“Maybe the person being executed faces certain death, but to the spectators, it counts as entertainment, doesn’t it?”
Then why don’t you go be the person being executed!
The evil young king’s pretty face, the face that I hate all the way into my bones, smiles adorably as he looks down.
“Even though I’m the king of an entire country, I’ve never witnessed an execution up close before. That’s why I accepted Yels.h.i.+’s suggestion, to try being that spectator all the way up there once. My brother said he’s seen countless executions since he was young anyway, and got tired of them long ago. Oh, right, isn’t the one over there Lord Weller’s guard—”
He lifts a neatly-manicured, sakura-sh.e.l.l fingernail at my spy,
“—Could you please put down that sack. Because in it, are female trainee officials from the palace.”
“What!?”
Josak, who held himself down low so as not to be seen by the soldiers on the ground, puts the sack down before I yell out, and opens it up—inside are two unfamiliar girls. Except for their eye and hair color, there’s nothing at all similar between them, much less enough to call them sisters.
“You tricked us?”
“What? What on earth are you saying, Yuuri? Whoever told you that the people you’re looking for are in this sack? If they were, that would be really ridiculous misinformation! Too bad, you were fooled by whoever gave you that information.”
Saralegui creases his pretty brows, looking sincerely sympathetic. No one told me that. It’s just that I, as usual, jumped to conclusions and stubbornly went ahead with it, and as usual, I fell flat on my face. That’s all.
If there was really a mole, then what about the news brought by our ally, Ajira? The date and times are all correct, the execution did indeed go on. If it wasn’t for the explosions in the square directly underneath us, those three men would have long since lost their lives.
But I don’t see those children anywhere here. Should I be glad they’re not here.
“The names… in the namelist…”
“Oh, do you mean those children with those strange-for-s.h.i.+nzoku names?”
The young king who was once my travel companion, claps his hands in front of his slender chin.
“They’re not here, y’know. They in a faraway facility, there was just not enough time to bring them here.”
“What does this mean?”
Compared to Saralegui’s voice, like the tinkling of silver bells, the sentence I squeeze out of gritted teeth makes me sound like the quintessential bad guy. If an unknowing third person saw us, they would probably confuse our roles.
“All I did was add the names I heard on the boat. I believed that if I did that, Yuuri, you would definitely come back.”
Then he says, giggling, “You must never say the important things out too loud, y’know.” Watching his idiotic prey fall into the trap just as he hoped, seems to be making him especially happy, huh.
“Yuuri, you came back after all, didn’t you?”
I want nothing more than to slap his pale face, then scold him as harshly as I knew how. But I desperately press down the urge to grab his chest and shake him, demanding ‘where are those two children’, telling myself instead non-stop, ‘he’s not worth your punch’.
“Let’s fall back!”
I obediently take Josak’s suggestion. Looking down, I see the prisoners put own cloths that blend into their surroundings, already mixed into the panicked, escaping crowd, being supported by others on their way out. I even see Hazel and Conrad. How I managed to confirm so many things in such a short time is beyond me.
The spy doesn’t wait for my reply, grabbing my hand and preparing to lift me. Just as I’m about to protest, and say that I can get down on my own—
A string of white flashes in the corner of my eyes, and Saralegui’s voice, calling out to me, stops in mid-air.
“Yuu…”
He doesn’t say the ‘-ri’.
This scene is familiar. Although my rational mind knows it’s best if I don’t look, it’ll bring me nothing but trouble, so I must not look no matter what, but I never learn my lesson, and so I can’t help but turn back to look.
An arrow is embedded in the middle of that pale green outfit.
It’s exactly the same as that time. Only this time the target is extremely obvious, and the narrow never came close to me.
Faced with that terrifying trauma, I feel as though all the blood in my body has been sucked away by the ground. Someone else got shot by an arrow in front of me. Right beside me, hit by that most primitive weapon.
“…Wolf…”
No.
That’s not Wolf.
I shake my head desperately, grabbing at my hair through the hood of the cloak. Hang in there, s.h.i.+buya Yuuri! Wolfram’s not here, he can’t be shot or hurt! Don’t be afraid, the one they aimed for is Saralegui.
The casualty’s steps are a little jarred, his legs set apart and unmoving, and he stubbornly tries to pull the arrow out. But he can’t, so he tsks his tongue in anger. Looks like the wound isn’t as dangerous as it looks. Subconsciously I dive at him, pressing his slender body to the ground.
“Don’t just stand there, it’s dangerous!? Someone wants your life here! Aaah, don’t try to take it out!”
“Why? No one likes having such a hateful thing touching their bodies, right?”
“If it causes excessive bleeding…”
Saralegui doesn’t hear a word I say, pus.h.i.+ng me aside and pulling the intricate arrow out from his chest. The arrowhead is clean as a whistle, without even a spot of blood on it. I feel as though he’s showing off how lucky he is.
“Your Majesty, there’s no need to save that kind of person, shees.h.!.+”
Josak is splayed onto the ground, and he grabs my foot.
“But…”
There are buildings on every side of the square, so there’s no way to determine which window the arrow came from. Not only that, there’s the possibility of a second attack, so it’s best to leave this place as soon as possible.
“But this guy knows where the girls are.”
Gurrier glares at Saralegui, still holding the arrow, hatefully.
“Really…!”
He quickly grabs the empty sack, and roughly stuffs the thin boy king inside.
“Josak!?”
He moves his jaw, tossing the sack over his shoulder,
“Later you must be my witness, I didn’t support this! Okay, let’s go!”
I look backwards as I’m climbing down from the shrine seat, just in time to see a heavily-armed group standing out like sore thumbs against the afternoon square come towards us. But the faces on those leading the march, don’t look that of beings living in this world, almost causing me to lose my grip on the ladder.
“…Corpses?”
They’re called zombies, or the living dead, etcetera etcetera. But they look the same, like malfunctioning radios or nearly rotting human bodies. With weapons in their hands and armor over their bodies, in a way they fit really well in a fantasy world of magic. No, wait, they seem to show up around 21st century London, too.
“It’s corpses, rotting corpses are dressed in armor and moving around!”
“How can that be? Really, Young Master, please try to make jokes that men would appreciate too. We don’t have nasty creatures like that even in s.h.i.+n Makoku!”
Skeletons are everywhere, though.
“But really…”
“No buts, please pretend you didn’t see anything, for Gurrier.”
“I-if you say so.”
When my feet step away from the final rung and back onto solid ground, I finally heave a sigh of relief. Only then do I notice that I haven’t breathed properly until then. In order to run to the meeting spot, I take in a lungful of air, and find that there really is a smell of rot there.
Looks like something happened.
In a place we don’t know, something definitely happened.