114

I couldn’t say I didn’t see this coming.

To be honest, things had only held together because a person in the extremely peculiar position of the Natural Harmony Committee happened to have clout.

You could tell just by looking: there were almost no monsters in or around the elves’ settlement.

That was one reason I hadn’t planned to stay long, but now it was too late to matter.

“What is the meaning of this…? You will explain, won’t you, Kashial Zesat?”

“But of course, Rusheru Forshna.”

What awaited us on our return from my base—the Imperial ruin—was an encirclement by fully armed warriors.

They’d even kept a careful distance and taken positions where we couldn’t see them—annoyingly thorough.

I tried to count their number, but somewhere past thirty, the combination of their stealth and my boredom killed my motivation.

Our male escorts each reached for their weapons, ready to fight at any moment, but being surrounded put us at a clear disadvantage.

We were just about to cross the river into the forest; in this darkness, spotting elves inside the trees was nearly impossible.

The terrain advantage was obviously theirs, and the man who seemed to be commanding them was currently glaring at Number Six.

I hadn’t been particularly on guard, so I’d neglected non-visual detection—and the spot just beyond the river was exactly where one lets their guard down. That was probably why the elves with us reacted late.

(Looks like they even used concealment magic against their own kin. If I recall, he’s some bigwig… but elves don’t look old, and they’re all good-looking, so it’s hard to tell who’s who.)

Especially the men.

With women, you could at least tell by certain physical traits, but with men it came down to muscle build or what they carried.

And it didn’t help that they all wore similar clothes and hairstyles.

“We prioritize the settlement’s safety above all.”

“And this is your conclusion? Barbaric doesn’t begin to cover it.”

“Ha! Barbaric, you say!”

The dignitary laughed with his arms spread.

Thanks to the magical lights, I could see them clearly—which also meant they could see us, the targets, just as well.

And my gaze was fixed on one very specific point.

“You would level arrows at someone you could speak with, without even trying words first—and call that not barbaric?”

Unlike usual, there was a sharp edge in Number Six’s voice.

Naturally so; being surrounded by armed elves was not a situation she could overlook.

“How strange! Could it be that no report reached your people?”

Their exchange went in one ear and out the other.

Because among the armed elves facing us was a female elf in bikini armor.

I’d been loitering so calmly because I was watching her.

(Unmistakably bikini armor. Size two… three doesn’t exist, surely. I never thought I’d see one in the wild.)

Impressed—and thinking she looked like nothing but an exhibitionist—I observed her gear.

The two bigwigs kept fencing with words, but that didn’t concern me in the slightest.

Since an elf was wearing it, it definitely had magical effects.

Likely something like drawing attention—aggro management—but more importantly, I wished Number Six would wear that outfit.

(By sheer area, it’s extremely enticing. Underboob visible even from the front—perfection. From the side or below, not a single weak angle. Though from below… no good, my head’s too big to slip between her thighs!)

The fantasies didn’t stop. After Number Six, my next target was Boobs Lady; in my head, an elf in bikini armor hopped pointlessly up and down.

“Don’t claim you were not informed. That monster of yours—if it can take on the abilities of what it eats, there’s no reason to tolerate it. Yet you seem to hold views at odds with our settlement’s ideals.”

“That concern has been laid to rest. Argos has no such ability.”

I ignored their back-and-forth. In my mind, Boobs Lady, wobbling and weak-kneed, swung a sword at goblins; her chest bounced, her blows whiffed, and she wound up getting her rear slapped.

Reconstructing as faithfully as possible from that low-spec elf’s behavior, she was toyed with by three unarmed goblins, mocked, and finally, with one breast out, she panted and used the sword like a cane while they took turns spanking her in rhythm to clapping—an ignominious end.

For age-rating reasons, this simulation would not be screened any further.

“…Whatever happened, do you expect me to say ‘Understood’ to that? Even if you gained grounds for certainty, you cannot deny the possibility that the intelligent monster there is deceiving you. The fact you feel reassured means nothing. You don’t expect us to trust that, do you?”

Number Six ground her teeth at the man’s argument.

The situation was disadvantageous for her—and fundamentally, the Natural Harmony Committee’s ideal was overextended here.

(Hmm… to keep Number Six’s position from worsening, should I make the first move?)

With the fantasies finally done, I took stock.

I’d tuned out parts of their talk, but it wasn’t hard to imagine most of the problem was me.

So, I figured, if I withdrew, this could be settled… but as I carefully probed our surroundings, I noticed something.

(Hold on. That’s a Spirit Sword… no, not quite. Different—but something similar. And I sense four of them.)

Only because I could now perceive mana: there were four of those prickling, skin-clinging signatures I’d felt back then.

Different strengths, but likely variants.

The performance was surely lower, but there were four—and judging by range, they were for long-distance attacks.

(Which means bows… That story about armor-piercing shots killing a tank crew—yeah, I’ve heard that somewhere.)

If that wasn’t a tall tale, they were serious.

If they’d brought out weapons used in the war with the Empire, choosing to fight carelessly would not leave us unscathed.

“To bring out magic bows… do you have the Council’s authorization?”

“That sounds as if you’re shielding the monster behind you.”

At his jab, our men started forward with a “Why, you—!” but Number Six held them back with a hand.

At least that confirmed my suspicion.

Given her position, it was a big misstep—but since she did it for my sake, I couldn’t fault her.

Still, it wasn’t good for me to let her keep shielding me.

If those could pierce tank armor, I wouldn’t walk away unhurt—but that didn’t mean I could sit by and watch.

So I strode forward, pulling out my memo pad and writing as I went.

Ignoring Number Six’s attempt to stop me, I reached the opposing leader and showed him my note.

“Delivery.”

I flashed the paper and thumped the metal lump I’d carried onto the ground.

Then I turned to Number Six and started writing in Elven again.

There was chatter behind me, but I ripped the page free and showed it, ignoring them completely.

“Handle the hassle yourselves. I’m going to look for a new place to live. Feed me next time I come by.”

“Um, this does concern you, though…”

Number Six sagged at my note, but the leader behind her called to my back as I turned to leave.

“Where do you think you’re going, Argos?”

I let out a long sigh, retrieved the note I’d given to Number Six, and thrust it before the man’s eyes.

“Hmph. Running away?”

A textbook provocation.

Now that I could sense mana, it was obvious: if I moved, three in the back would do something.

And the four magic bows—what they intended was plain as day.

So I flipped the note and wrote one more line to show him.

“Three for bind-and-slow. Four magic bows.”

I set my hand to my throat and snorted, as if to say, I see right through you.

His cocky smile vanished, and he glared at me with loathing—brave of him to pick a fight at this distance, but he surely had magical defense gear and could block at least once, right?

Therefore I wouldn’t strike first.

If it came to it, I’d drop the perimeter before anything else.

And my we-know-what-you’re-thinking attitude just needled him further.

He was probably overreading my note—thinking I hadn’t written everything I knew—and that would keep him from acting rashly, but they had their own agenda.

They’d brought this many troops and those “magic bows” because they meant to finish me here.

I didn’t know if they were at full readiness, but they’d certainly prepared well.

Which meant I needed a guaranteed, unexpected move.

A small click of the tongue—and a moving arm—told me my precautions were right.

“Inn-dana?”

I moved the hand at my throat and offered a clumsy bit of Elven.