An airship landed at the port.It was the Utica, a tactical airship boasting the greatest energy output and loading capacity of all the ships owned by the Winged Guard.
Before now it had never been in actual combat, in large part due to its invisible costs. Not only did it reputedly have an overly large heavy-cyclical enchanted furnace that, by itself, was insufficiently powerful to feed the ship’s outrageous fuel consumption, it also had no less than four pairs of auxiliary wings built at – of all places – the bottom of its base! The hull was roughly hewn from red steel so that it might not deform from the ship’s monstrous bulk, aided by sixteen rotors that were each four times larger than they would have been on a regular airship. Its main gun, as suited a ship of this magnitude, was of the highest physical power imaginable. Even then, the engineers had at one point tried to install the “Mountain Thrower” urban-defense weapon into the ship.
To sum it up, the Utica was the ultimate airship. A crystallization of arrogance built with the most powerful of the most powerful mechanical gadgets, constructed while ignoring all concerns of fuel consumption, maintenance costs, spell burn injuries, and so on, it could be called the greatest piece of artwork ever created.
“Hey, you,” the Division Chief asked Feodor, “what do you think of that airship?”
Feodor contemplated his question, then replied honestly. “…The people who designed it probably had a lot of fun.”
It was nothing more than a toy that had been designed, manufactured, and somehow made operational. He thought that everyone involved with the project would probably say, “How badly drunk was I when I made this piece of junk?!”
“This thing’s supposed to be our ace in the hole for the next strike. We were handed down the order from the General.”
“Is that right.” Feodor reexamined the airship. By his reckoning, it was capable of destroying everyone equally, whether they were friend or foe. One shot of the main gun could blow away a small city - and would likely cost enough to starve out another small city. It was an utterly ridiculous weapon, even without taking into account the matter of having to transport it to the battlefield.
There was only one thing he could say about such a monstrosity.
“Sounds like it’s gonna be a pain.”
“It is a pain.”
To begin with, it was common knowledge that conventional weaponry that weren’t infused with Venom were weak against the Beasts. It wasn’t that they were completely invulnerable to those weapons, but at the same time they simply didn’t have enough decisive power to deal a finishing blow. In the battles against the Teimerre and the Aurora, records of which the Winged Guard had plenty left over, conventional artillery had only been used to keep them in check and to buy time.
Any normal person would have thought to search for some other method. And perhaps, just perhaps, an abnormal person would have thought along these lines:
“Since it’s not effective, let’s put aside the simple problem of firepower for later. If our artillery only produces so much results, wouldn’t it be better for us to strike with an item that has a hundred times that power?”
Needless to say, the kind of factory floor where such things might have been discussed concerned Feodor a hundredfold.
In many ways, Venom was something akin to fire. One reason for that was that it couldn’t maintain itself. If one desired to use their Venom, it had to be ignited on the spot at a specific time. Furthermore, Venom ignited within the body could only exert its effects on outside forces if they made contact with that body.
In other words, it couldn’t be used for risky stunts such as charging and then releasing it like an arrow or sh.e.l.l. If one wanted to unleash a Venom-infused attack on an Beast in any kind of circ.u.mstance, it had to be in direct close-quarter combat.
“…Ah, wait. I see… there is just one other method we can use.”
At present, Feodor too knew about the existence of that method.
If a spirit with the ability to ignite their Venom was used, rather than an artillery, sh.e.l.l, then effective attacks without approaching the Beasts were possible.
I don’t know who thought of it, but it’s a logical method. As far as anti-Beast combat goes, it would be a shining ray of hope through the clouds of unreasonable demands.
“First Officer,” Feodor said abruptly. “I wish to ask you an unrelated question.”
“Hmm?”
“It’s about those First-cla.s.s equivalent officers, sir. I believe you should’ve received three signatures from ranked officers who are higher than First Officer, correct? May I ask who those three might have been?”
The Division Chief paused momentarily. “First Officer Limeskin of the Second Division. First Officer Baroni Makish of the Military Police Division. Myself of the Fifth Division. What of it?”
At the least, those three should be aware of them. Of the people who, though they might live in this base and be treated as equivalent soldiers, could never become soldiers. The reason for their existence, and their true ident.i.ties.
“Well then, First Officer, perhaps–”
Feodor snapped his mouth shut. It wasn’t something he could ask about. He hadn’t yet been informed about their ident.i.ties. I mustn’t ask questions based on knowledge which I shouldn’t know about. “No, it’s nothing. Thank you.”
“Is that so?” The Division Chief tilted his head, his eyes narrowing slightly, but he didn’t pursue the issue. “…All right.”
Tiat was there atop the abandoned theatre again, sitting with her arms around her knees.
Feodor had thought that she would’ve learned her lesson after two falls. At the very least, she was keeping her distance from the steam ventilation port. She seemed to have recognized him by the sound of the door opening, as she was giving him fleeting sidelong glances as he walked closer.
“Donuts,” he said in greeting. She nodded, beckoning him closer with little gimmie, gimmie gestures. “…Just what do you think I am?”
“Someone who’s somehow always eating delicious food.”
Gah. It stung, but he couldn’t really deny it.
“Oh, I know!” Tiat smiled. “Why don’t you tell me where you get them?”
“What are you going to do if I tell you that?”
“I thought I should buy something good for Collon and the others, but there’s only lots and lots of flavorless food on this island…” she paused. “Wait, is it bad for me to always think about delicious things?”
“That’s why you left the base without permission?” Feodor tsked. “You know by now that’s against regulations, don’t you?”
“Yep,” Tiat replied brightly. “Our superior officers are way too serious to ask about this stuff.”
“Oh?” He raised one eyebrow. “So really, just what do you think I am?”
“My not-so-serious superior officer.”
…Oh, d.a.m.n it. He wasn’t going to admit it, but he couldn’t beat her in smack talk. Feodor sighed. “Since you’ve gone on walks so much already, why don’t you try using your feet some more and find it yourself?”
“Hmm… oh, but I don’t have enough pocket money to use for tasting and comparing food at random…”
It wasn’t like soldiers in the Winged Guard weren’t paid cheaply. Ranked officers could provide for a large family with a bit left over to indulge themselves. With that kind of money, they could easily walk around the city spending, unlike university students pinching coins.
She only had to be considered a soldier to be granted that much.
“You’re always here, but why’re you so interested in this place?” Feodor eventually asked. “It’s not all that different than other places you could find around town.”
“Hmm, I don’t know if I’m interested, but…” He tilted his head as Tiat started mumbling to herself. “…No, wait, am I really?”
He waited, and eventually she volunteered another sentence. “I think this one probably feels the saddest. The wind’s strong, but quiet, and there’s no one here – except for when a certain someone drops by.”
Her logic made sense. “It’s the best place to be when there’s something on your mind,” Feodor agreed, sitting on a spot of the roof near Tiat. From his vantage point, Lyell City spread out below him as it always did.
“I wonder…” Unbidden, the words left his lips. “Is there any meaning in protecting this world?”
“Huh?” Tiat sidled up to him, her outstretched hands not matching her expression. “What kind of question is that? If you’re a Winged Guard officer, shouldn’t you already know the answer?”
“It’s not about me, but rather you.” He dropped another donut into her hands. “Not you as in the First-cla.s.s equivalent soldier you claim to be, either. I heard about how you’re a Spirit, tuned to some kind of Dug Weapon thing.”
Tiat popped the donut into her mouth. One bite, two bites, and then three bites came before she answered. “How’d you know about that? It’s supposed to be super cla.s.sified.”
“Well…” It’s because I secretly investigated you using an information broker! Like h.e.l.l could he say that. No, wait, it was illegal to begin with, so why did I just tell her I know everything?!
What in the world am I doing?
“It’s because I’m your supervisor, and even if it’s just for now, also your superior officer,” Feodor said, feeding her a fake reason. “I need to know what I can do for you, that’s all.”
Tiat snorted, then burst into laughter.
“Why’re you laughing?”
“Ah, sorry, I just got a bit nostalgic.” Tiat patted her chest, small tears welling up in her eyes. He wondered if perhaps some donut pieces had gotten caught in her throat. “You see, someone told us something like that once before. He was a big show-off, but clumsy at heart. Acting so cool really didn’t suit him.”
A name floated to the forefront of Feodor’s mind. The name Tiat had given him before while making the same face he saw now, belonging to the person Lakish and Collon spoke of, the one who had been their previous caretaker. “Is it…. that Willem guy? The one you mentioned?”
“Yep, that’s right.” Tiat giggled fondly. “Our no-good father.”
He couldn’t tell if she respected him or not, but… at the least, that man seemed to have been both a close friend and someone she loved dearly. I don’t know whether it’s because of our ranks or because we might have been similar in age, but it’s honestly unpleasant to be compared to someone I don’t know a thing about.
“I’d protect it,” Tiat said abruptly. Feodor gave her a questioning glance, and she went on. “What you said before, about if this world is worth protecting? There’s no way I’d know something like that. It’s not like I’ve seen enough to think about it for myself, and I don’t have many people I know either. So I don’t think about complicated stuff like that.”
She took a breath. “But I decided that I’d protect my friends, the world, and a bunch of other stuff. I don’t need to wonder about if it has meaning or not. It’s what I’ve decided to do, so I can’t afford to back down. That’s all there is to it.”
“That…” Feodor searched for the right words. “That sounds almost like you want to be a hero.”
“Hmm, I think it’s a bit different from that, but maybe that’s close enough. It’s cool to fight and throw away your life, right?” Tiat chuckled a little. “Any boy or girl my age would worship people who did that.”
“I–”
“There must be a person more precious than your own life, right?”
“That’s why the one who discovers that person is so very happy, and so very fortunate.”
“…I disagree.” Feodor shook his head. “My own life’s more important than some stranger’s.”
“Whaaaat? Geez, boys like you have no sense of romance…”
“It’s exactly because I think that way and only try to satisfy myself that I’m alive now.” He put down the bag of donuts besides him and looked out across the town again.
It might have been because of his perspective or because of the distribution of districts, but in the part of Lyell he could see, there were almost no visible people living or even just moving around. It was impossible to tell if that was because the number of citizens here had shrunken so much, or because they were already gone. The line between a world that had ended and a world still ending grew vague here.
“That might be true for you,” Tiat said in a quiet voice, the last pieces of her donut swallowed. “But, you know, we aren’t exactly alive.”
“What’s that mean?”
“It means what I mean. Um, how much do you know? About us?”
“Not much.” He crossed his arms. “You’re naturally occuring spirits that become a.s.sets to us by being tuned with dug weapons, and you’re gonna be disposed of after performing this Fairy Gate thing.”
Tiat scratched her head. “Oh, that’s all? Alright, then I’ll just have to fire up my wonderful memory to tell you the rest! Now let’s see, should I give you the rough explanation first…?”
After counting details off her fingers, she began, “Well, first of all, we’re a natural phenomenon called Leprechauns. We can move, talk, and think, but we’re not technically living beings…”
Tiat told him everything.
According to her, Leprechauns were a variety of ghosts and, strictly speaking, couldn’t be considered truly living.
Fairies were originally nothing more than whispered self-a.s.sertions, psychic phenomena whose existence were fragile at best. Chuckling laughs heard from within the forest; milk that decreased a tiny bit overnight; flying around and teasing cattle, and all of it invisible to the naked eye.
Leprechauns, a subspecies of fairies, couldn’t change their nature. They appeared near Emnetwyte habitats and disappeared without being noticed by anyone. But if they happened to be found prior to vanishing, then they would settle into the existence of a single markless child and begin as a counterfeit living being.
Joy, laughter, pain, sorrow, longing, grief…
Until they died, they would act as if they were truly alive.
“…Well, to put it another way, it’s like playing the leading role in a ghost story,” Tiat concluded. “We’re like ghosts who don’t know they’re dead, or something like that. Although we don’t have regular physical bodies, our high-density souls organize pseudo-matter into a form that imitates them…. or something like that.”
“You don’t have… physical bodies?” Narrowing his eyes into something like a glare, Feodor scrutinized the girl next to him. Short bright green hair swaying in the breeze. The hem of her skirt fluttering majestically in the wind blowing in from the direction of the town. Donut crumbs clinging to her mouth.
No matter how I look at her, she only seems like an energetic, slightly underdeveloped, teenage girl.
“Don’t stare at me. Pervert.”
Feodor rolled his eyes. “I don’t want a markless kid for a partner. Anyway–”
“Hey, don’t call me a kid! Just so that you know, even these–” Tiat made a few gestures, “–have gotten a bit bigger recently!”
“I don’t care.”
“Huh? That’s no good, you know.”
“Oh, give me a break,” he shook his head. “Anyway, I can’t understand what you mean about having no physical body.”
“Hmph…” Tiat pouted. “Just so that you’re aware, we Leprechauns have an unbelievable amount of energy packed inside of us. That’s one of the reasons we’re so highly cla.s.sified. If we sever our souls from our physical bodies, we can make a ma.s.sive explosion!” She opened her clenched fists with a “Kaboom!” sound. “Of course, we can’t do that so easily. If that was possible, it probably wouldn’t be so good if you were right next to us.”
Letting her arms fall back to her lap, Tiat continued, “It’s because we can unleash those big explosions that the Winged Guard calls us their final secret weapon. Since it’s naturally connected to our Venom, our results even against a Beast are exceptional. And because it’s something that they kept using in battles against the Teimerre, its practicality has been fully demonstrated by the great fairies that came before us!”
She gave Feodor a snappy thumbs-up, grinning a radiant smile. “We don’t know for sure if it’ll work on the Croyance, but…”
“The strike operation scheduled three months from now,” Feodor replied flatly. “You know, we have an information-gathering unit that can find out just how much of a threat the Croyance is by attacking it to a certain degree, withdrawing, and revising strategies with our newly obtained information. So even if you’re that kind of superweapon, there’s no reason to go about using that power in a hurry.”
“That’s wrong, isn’t it?” Tiat asked him. “You won’t know for certain until we hit it once just how well us bombs can match up against the Croyance. It would be more helpful to you all if we moved first.”
Feodor could feel frustration boiling up inside of him. “How have you guys protected this world from the Sixth Beast’s attacks up to now? You should be getting praise heaped on you! To accept this disposable-weapon treatment… don’t tell me you actually agree with it?!”
“Oh well, I guess it can’t be helped.”
“Don’t you ever think ‘I don’t want to die’!?”
Tiat smiled.
It was a chilling, unfeeling mask of a honest and cheery smile.
“There’s no way I’d think that. After all, from the beginning, we were never alive.”
“…Are you telling me it’s hard for you to be afraid?”
“Even if I feel scared, the facts about us won’t change.” Tiat grew quiet, mumbling to herself, until her eyes widened as if she’d just come up with something, and she punched her fist into a nearby metal wall.
That wall was part of a large-scale mechanism that formed part of the city itself, and as such had many moving parts and edges just below surface level. Specifically, the area Tiat punched had a narrow slit carved into it for heat exhaust ventilation with an eave hanging on its upper edge. Depending on how one touched it, it could act as a sort of dull knife.
The skin on her knuckles tore, red blood spraying onto the wall and floor.
“Wha–” Feodor froze, not understanding any possible reason for her self-harming action. “What the – what the h.e.l.l are you doing?!”
“Proving what I said before,” Tiat said calmly, blood still seeping from her fist. “As you can see, I’m not afraid of getting hurt or dying.”
“D-doesn’t it… hurt?”
“Oh, yes, it hurts. I can definitely feel pain. But it’s just that.”
Living beings were afraid of getting hurt because it moved them closer to death, but if a being didn’t fear death, they would be unable to avoid harming themselves. Here that logic was at play.
“I’m not afraid of artillery sh.e.l.ls,” Tiat said pleasantly. “As a weapon who’s used for do-or-die fights, doesn’t this ability come in handy?”
Feodor felt cold sweat running down his forehead. According to what she’d said before, she must have felt at least some pain. Yet she still smiled, even while saying so many outrageous things.
I can’t bear to see this any longer. “…Okay, I get it.” Feodor looked away from her as he stood. “I’ve decided that I don’t know anything about this. So you’ll have to do your duty. If you want to save Regul Aire so badly that you’re going to throw away your life, then do as you please. I won’t get in your way anymore.”
He opened the collar of his uniform as if to rip it off, tore out a simple first-aid kit that had been sewn into its inside section, and tossed it towards Tiat. “If you’re going to call yourself a weapon, you should know that it’s bad if you don’t maintain your own performance ‘til you’re on the battlefield. And as your superior, I order you: meaningless acts of self-harm are forbidden from now on. Understood?”
“‘Kaaay!” Tiat replied flippantly, opening the kit and taking out some gauze soaked in liquid medicine.