116

I had plenty of worries, but at present I had only one thing to think about.

“How do I make use of this situation?”

In short, it was a very simple question of how to break this stalemate and steer it toward my own gain.

(It irked me that the bikini armor had such an impact I missed parts of the discussion.)

There were some gaps in my information, but put simply it was “If we touch the Great Forest, we’ll face species-level danger because it contains monsters on the ‘Nightmare’ level” VS “If we leave it alone, a second Empire could arise, so we should declare the forest our national territory and nip that in the bud.”

Neither side intended to back down, and Number Six—who argued the former—seemed ready to drag me in to crush the latter, while the other side radiated a readiness to kill, as if words were no longer needed.

Practically speaking, it was a situation where “an attack could come at any moment.”

One reason was that a new condition had emerged: “If they killed me, the other side’s logic would collapse.”

(A literal, physical rebuttal. Punching problems away is supposed to end with one’s boyhood.)

Choosing such an uncivilized solution was barbaric enough without me.

And here they had a conveniently placed monster—me—but if I acted, I would contradict Number Six’s position.

In other words, a stalemate.

(It hurt that I couldn’t move first. But I also didn’t want them to seize the initiative…)

Even if weaker than the Spirit Sword, those bows—clearly its cousins—had me in their sights; a careless move could trigger instant battle.

“What action benefits me in this situation?” I asked myself, and laid out the conditions.

• My immediate safety.

• My future safety.

The fact that these two came to mind first said it all about the present.

Add to that: future trade, and shared use of the river as valuable geography—those were the profits I should aim for right now.

Which meant, at the moment, I could only achieve those goals by riding along with Number Six’s plan.

With a “good grief” attitude, I set down my pack, took something from it, and stepped between the two sides facing off.

Seeing me move, the Zesat elves raised their guard, ready to signal at any time.

Number Six tried to pull me back, but waiting wouldn’t turn this to our favor, so I intervened.

First, I lifted the item hooked on my finger to a height where he could see it.

“…What are you playing at?”

What I took from my pack was a gemmed necklace.

If memory served, in the magical nation of Seizeria, gems were valuable media used as catalysts.

If so, they ought to be valuable to elves as well.

Even if not, their monetary value was beyond doubt.

I could have joked, “It’s a bribe,” but that would make me a caught-in-the-act bagman.

So I persuaded him like this.

“I know objects like this and the materials we just hauled out have value in the elven settlement. Getting them safely—without casualties—is not a bad deal for you either. Given what they are, they could expand your defensive strength. If you insist on settling it here and now, I’ll resolve myself to fight… but will the losses be acceptable? If I may say one thing: you’re rushing. I understand your position, but this forest won’t fall to human hands so easily. You know that.”

I scribbled something to that effect, working hard to get it all on the paper.

A monster pinched an obviously ill-fitting pen between two fingers, wedged himself between two glowering elven dignitaries, and scrawled his case across a memo—before that surreal scene, even those two seemed to regain their composure. But I wanted it known: I wanted them calm because of the argument, not the sight.

“Read this text, properly.”

Someone snorted at my shaky Elven while I pressed my throat; by the sound’s location, I knew who.

I glanced back, marked the one stifling laughter, and locked on to his face in irritation.

Kashial watched the man dramatically dodge a pebble I flicked with my tail, let out a long breath, and turned on his heel.

“…For the record, I will not accept this.”

As the Zesat clan withdrew with those words, I tossed them the jeweled ornament.

“You forgot something.”

A small pity—but once they took it, they’d be accomplices too… or so I thought, until they threw it back.

My petty scheming wasn’t enough, apparently.

At any rate, I chose to be glad we’d escaped that situation.

It would be bad if, now that they were calm, they decided, “Killing you is still the fastest solution,” and the odds of that seemed annoyingly high.

I worried: “They might try an ambush,” but that event only triggered if I stayed in the elven settlement.

“Did you plan that?”

To Number Six’s question, I waved a hand: Not at all.

Even so, I understood the nature of his fears now; knowing that perspective meant I’d be pulled into elven internal conflicts down the line.

I had no desire to stick my neck into that.

“I’m going to look for a new base.”

I showed the note and turned my back on Number Six to leave.

The idea that “we should put some distance between us” was not wrong.

And I did, in fact, need a new base.

“Wait!”

I had my thoughts, but I didn’t look back.

If our relationship was one of mutual use, digging deeper was forbidden.

With her voice at my back, I leapt over the river.

The last thing I heard was, “Someday, for sure”—what it meant, I chose not to ponder now.

Still, there were portions where our interests aligned, and because of that, we would “surely” meet again, as she said.

In fact, I would certainly keep an eye on her—without being noticed.

(Ahh, so many regrets. Better this than being drawn into a mess… but still, regrets.)

A knockout-beautiful woman, cultured meals, the entertainment called magic, and that delightfully unfortunate multipurpose toy—too much to discard lightly.

I would have liked her help with my goals; if I wanted that, Zesat’s side would actually be more convenient.

But they had ample reason to take my life; there was no way we could join hands.

“Why is the world so unwilling to go my way…?”

Alone in the dark forest, I murmured to no one.

No answer returned—only the sound of insects, from somewhere unseen.

The next morning—I wandered the woods without a plan, and found no suitable place for a base.

Which was only natural; I hadn’t even looked at research facilities or their entrances.

I regretted not immediately discarding the naive idea that “if I just stroll around aimlessly, I might find something.”

“I could use a mapping function.”

At that mutter, a revelation descended on me.

“Right. Maybe, like before, I ‘actually have that ability,’ hidden?”

I acted at once—and the conclusion was: no, I didn’t.

(Yeah, this isn’t a game. How would they even install such a handy feature?)

Given my track record, I had to wonder “What if…,” but even my homeland’s tech hadn’t managed that.

I tried this and that—nothing.

“Honestly… searching a stupidly vast Old Imperial territory alone is impossible, any way you slice it.”

I would definitely need other hands.

I had selected the elves as that partner, but after this, that looked shaky.

Which meant I needed a different partner for cooperation.

(…The Council-State. There’s no one else.)

Having no options was its own headache.

Right now, the Furon Council-State was surely pushing north while subjugating orcs and monsters.

If I appeared in the middle of that—what would happen?

“Ugh—I already told them ‘You can claim up to the farm district’…”

Going now would invite the wrong impression, and if she was my counterpart, the timing would be terrible.

So I needed to kill some time.

I could look for a base, but I also lacked certain supplies.

I’d go restock those, then head south while searching; that would use time decently.

“Mm… I need time before dealing with the elves again—and the same goes for the Council-State.”

North it was, after all.

I would cull monsters at a sensible pace, and collect the reward in the Kingdom of Canaan.