Chapter 72

Approximately thirty minutes before Varna arrived at the motive carriage…

“Hey, are you seriously going? Just drop it. Why bother giving tributes to those people…?”

“It’s not a tribute, it’s basic courtesy! It’s fine. Ever since Grandpa died, Village Chief Fabre has looked after me in one way or another. Gratitude is important! Besides, the item itself was taken down by the Knight Order, right? I’m sure they’ll accept it even if it’s from me!”

“Ah, geez. Still won’t admit it, huh? What a pain…”

Was he still lying to himself at this late stage, or did he truly still believe? Akina wondered if Busse’s stubbornness—the way he listened to others yet never bent his own will—was perhaps ingrained in his very bones. She felt he ought to just give up and hate them already, but for Busse, that wasn’t an option.

Akina had been telling the young, innocent Busse exactly how she felt about the village without any reservation. She thought he should cut his ties with that place as soon as possible and find a new home. Others had complained that she “had zero feminine tact” or “didn’t know how to handle kids,” but from Akina’s perspective, his current state was far more unhealthy.

No matter how much Akina tried to persuade him, Busse would only smile sadly and say, “But it’s still my home,” fully intent on returning. Akina couldn’t understand why he remained so headstrong, despite clearly harboring complex emotions about his poor relationship with the villagers.

He had an irrepressible curiosity about the outside world, yet all of it ultimately circled back to returning to the village. Akina, being someone who was far too honest with herself, thought he should just stop holding back and say “no” to the things he disliked.

“I think it’s a waste of time, personally. Idiots who have stopped thinking for themselves seriously won’t change their minds until they’re on the brink of ruin, you know?”

“I’m still a child. So there’s still time. If I take my time and keep acting out of a desire to be friends, I feel like someday… I’ll be able to become a true member of the village.”

“You only feel that way. Man, you never get your precious youth back once it’s gone, okay? Live a little more recklessly! If you get a job that lets you live for your hobbies and yourself, the future is guaranteed to be fun!”

“Ahahaha, that sounds just like you, Akina-san!”

—It was always like this. With a stubbornness that made Akina think his grandfather must have been exactly the same, Busse smoothly parried all of her advice. A stubborn kid with such extreme ups and downs is more trouble than he’s worth, Akina grumbled internally.

In the meantime, Busse finished packing his things, stood up, and gave Akina a polite bow.

“Well then, I’m off to say my farewells to the Village Chief! Thank you for arranging the souvenir!”

“Yeah, you’d better be grateful! I had to get Nonoka—who’s always nagging about ‘research, research’—to say yes to give you that. I was actually planning to sell that for a fortune in the city! You’d better work to pay me back!”

“Ehh?! You’re charging me?! You said it was ‘free’!”

“Phew… listen. In the Engineering Squad, ‘free’ is just code for ‘Six-Eight’! As in, exactly sixty-eight thousand Steera!! You didn’t even know that?!”¹

“That’s a strangely specific and huge amount?! I don’t think I can pay that right now!!”

‘Well, that was a joke… but this kid is a total natural airhead.’

Busse, being far too earnest, had taken Akina’s somewhat forced joke at face value. Perhaps this boy needed to learn to doubt people a little. Otherwise, he was bound to get caught in one of Senega’s misinformation traps and cause some sort of catastrophe.

Then Akina, who was still technically a knight, remembered something and hesitated.

“…Ah, but the Knight Order is currently carrying out an operation. Hmm… it’ll be a pain if they start whining about ‘professional appearance’ for letting a civilian go out alone, so I’ll come along. Got it?”

“Oh, you don’t have to go to such trouble just for me—”

“It’s not for you, it’s for the Order. Do you understand? I’m coming along whether you like it or not!”

“Ugh… o-okay, please.”

And so, Akina and Busse left the motive carriage together.

As they walked, something Busse carried on his back swayed behind him.

Do you remember when I talked about how a knight is a hero of justice who gallantly rushes to the aid of the people or their comrades?

At the time, in my own foolish way, I concluded that “justice cannot exist without evil.” But there’s actually a sequel to that story. It’s about what happens when you actually do rush in at the last second to save someone in a crisis.

One day, a child from a nearby settlement accidentally wandered into an Orc subjugation site. In a bloodbath where even knights risk their lives, the life of an ignorant, helpless child can be snuffed out in an instant. So, I ran toward the child at full speed, destroying Orcs while quickly guiding the kid out of the combat zone.

“Waaaaahhh! I’m scared, Knight Big Brother!!”

“If you’re a boy, show some guts and run!! I’ll protect you with everything I’ve got until then!!”

Back then, I wasn’t used to fighting Orcs yet, so I didn’t have the composure I do now. I think I encouraged him by practically screaming at him. But even then, there was one fact I felt vividly.

‘Taking responsibility for a human life is so heavy… and so terrifying.’

If I made a mistake, the child would die. If he died, it would be my fault. Even though I was used to lopping off Orc heads with my sword like it was nothing, I never expected to feel such weight from a human child’s life. It’s easy to say you’ll help, but to actually do it requires an unimaginable level of resolve and the skill to see the mission through to the end.

For the record, I wasn’t treated as the “strongest” back then, so the battle ended thanks to the heroic efforts of my seniors who rose to the challenge. The boy returned to his mother in tears. In his state of panic, he was cold enough to not offer a single word of thanks, but later, a battle-hardened senior suddenly bought me a drink.

In a corner of the cafeteria, the golden alcohol swayed in the glass. I still occasionally remember that day, having shared some dried fish with the Cooking Squad as a snack. My senior said this to me as I winced at the sting of the alcohol I couldn’t yet appreciate:

“You didn’t run, even though you looked like you were about to die yourself, did you? You stayed there trying to protect that brat. Do you know why?”

“Why… now that you mention it, I wonder why? All I remember is being incredibly scared. But what exactly was I so afraid of?”

“I can tell you exactly what you were afraid of. It wasn’t your own life; it was the most essential quality a knight can have. A knight has to feel that way as naturally as they breathe. You were born with it.”

At the time, my head was spinning from the unfamiliar alcohol, and I didn’t understand even half of what my senior was saying. Looking back now, though, I think he was explaining a very simple logic. In short, saving that boy was an absolute requirement for me—the very top of my hierarchy of life.

The fear of failing to protect someone who needs protecting.

Because if I fail at that, I feel like I’ll lose the very meaning of my existence.

That’s why, as I act alone to track this giant white freak of an Orc, I have zero composure. There is only a burning impatience, a frantic urge to go faster, ever faster. The acceleration from the repeated use of Hidden Style Eight: Dancing Phoenix allows me to exceed the speed of a horse, but the footing in these snowy mountains is so treacherous that I can’t quite give it my all. If the motive carriage gets attacked and casualties occur while I’m fumbling around, I won’t be able to forgive myself, even if everyone else does.

Eventually, I broke through the dark conifers and saw an open space—the standby location for the motive carriage. I drew a deep breath into my gut and kicked off the ground with my toes. With a stomp that exploded all my kinetic energy through my feet, I took flight, leaping over ten meters in a single bound.

—The Vice Commander told me to kill it before it engaged the motive carriage unit, but I secretly suspected I wouldn’t make it in time.

It’s true that my travel speed is often described as “lightly resigning from humanity,” but the Orc started moving far earlier than I did. No matter how hard I run, I can’t leap through time itself.

That was why I was left speechless by the scene waiting for me.

There were scattered footprints, a messy array of snowmen and igloos, and the low hum of the motive carriage, but other than the knights led by Senior Njya standing guard, there was absolutely nothing unusual.

By all accounts, the battle should have started long ago. Could I have miraculously overtaken the Orc and reached the scene first? If so, I’d be ecstatic—specifically, as ecstatic as that time I got lost in the Royal Palace and stumbled into the kitchens, where I was treated to a staff meal of seafood gravy fried rice. I was stunned to learn later that the head chef was a disciple of Chef Tamae.

…Tangents aside, I rushed over to Senior Njya just in case.

“Senior! I was sent to take down the white one! Has it shown up yet?!”

“Varna, is it? We have seen neither hide nor hair of the target. Is the intel that it is headed this way certain?”

“Yes. According to Nonoka-san’s reading, it’s tracking the scent of that white bear I killed, so we figured it would come to the motive carriage… but…”

“Is that the truth?”

“It is, but… hmm. This is getting hard to call.”

It’s not that I don’t trust Nonoka-san’s prediction, but maybe the white one took a detour? I find it hard to believe I actually overtook an Orc to get here. If some unforeseen circumstance has delayed it, the situation might be working in our favor, but still…

“Oh, right! To prevent damage to the carriage, we need to get that bear pelt off the vehicle right now! Senior Njya, I’m going to take the fur—”

“The pelt is no longer within the carriage.”

“What?”

If my memory served me right, Senior Akina—insisting it would sell for a high price—had practically snatched that pelt from Nonoka-san. Since it would fetch a much higher price in the capital than in Isberg, it should have been kept under careful guard. But Senior Njya denied my assumption with a shake of his head.

“The pelt left the motive carriage tens of minutes ago… You there, you heard the man! Tell Senega to send every able-bodied knight to the village at once!”

“Ye—YES! IMMEDIATELY!!”

“It left…? The pelt? Who took it, and why?!”

Watching Senior Njya narrow his already sharp eyes, I felt a chill that turned my spine to ice. If what he said was true, then Nonoka-san’s prediction hadn’t been wrong—it just explained exactly why the Orc hadn’t come to the motive carriage.

The battlefield isn’t here.

In this near-worst-case scenario, if the information had only traveled a little faster—if we had suppressed the cave just a bit sooner—this tiny misalignment had birthed the folly of taking that pelt out.

“Varna, you head to the village as well! Young Busse is transporting the pelt there! If you do not hurry, a tragedy shall unfold!!”

The moment I heard that, I leaped with enough force to crush the ground beneath me, aiming for the true battlefield. The impact of the stomp let out a thunderous BOOM!! and the snow at my feet exploded upward. I didn’t care; I tore across the snow at a full-sprint bounce.

The innocent faces of the young boy and the members of Snow-Play Unit DD flashed vividly in my mind.

Meanwhile, the snow kicked up by my jump fell squarely onto the unit on-site (except for Njya, who deftly sliced through the snow to avoid it). Before they could even complain about Varna’s recklessness, they stood dazed, staring at the spot where he had been.

“…How do you even move like that?”

The ground where Varna had stood was crushed by concentrated kinetic energy, leaving behind footprints as crisp as if they’d been cast in plaster. Furthermore, the snow—which should have been thirty centimeters deep even after clearing—had been blown away in a radial pattern around the prints. There were even numerous cracks in the soil from the sheer pressure. It was a stark testament to the terrifying amount of energy that had exploded in an instant.

The reactions of the members to this “extremely compact destruction” for the sake of speed were…

“Is that guy a Super Warrior whose power evolves through rage…?”

“Normally, if you stomped with that much power, wouldn’t your tendons just snap? Like, normally?”

“Varna isn’t normal, so there’s no helping it.”

“Honestly, true.”

“It is a technique achieved through the pinnacle of training. Work harder, you fools.”

—Well, it was pretty much business as usual.

Couldn’t they have offered at least one slightly warmer word? Honestly.