Chapter 73

An image once given to others is not easily dispelled.

For example, if someone happens to be in a bad mood on the day you first meet them, you can’t help but walk away with the impression that they are a “scary person” or “hard to talk to,” knowing nothing of their usual self. Furthermore, in this world, it is often the case that auditory information—rumors—defines an impression long before visual information can.

If you still intend to dispel such an image, you have no choice but to show sincere devotion and wait for the label to peel off. Screaming and shouting about it simply won’t help.

However, there is an exception to this rule—.

“What are you looking at, huh?! Didn’t your mama teach you that if you’ve got something to say, you look ’em in the eye and say it instead of whispering like a coward, GYAAAH!?”

“Hieee?! Why?! I was just gossiping a little bit!!”

“C-calm down… Akina-san!! Please, stop it!! He’s crying, that man is actually crying!!”

—In the case of a person who fits their image perfectly, no retraction occurs. In fact, there’s no need for one, as they are simply being their true self. One might argue there are major problems with their lifestyle choices, but well, that’s a matter of personal responsibility.

Currently, Akina was aggressively confronting every single person in the village who dared to gossip about her, while a desperate-looking Busse tried to restrain her. Busse was standing on his tiptoes, trembling as he tried to dig his heels into the ground, but he was simply being dragged along by Akina’s superhuman strength—a truly pitiful sight.

Akina’s bad reputation had spread through Isberg Village after she made a spectacularly poor impression on the village’s nastiest old lady the day before. However, it was now becoming clear that her face was scarier and her temper shorter than the rumors suggested, and an older village man was currently being brought to tears. She had him pinned against a wall, and the fact that the wall was making ominous creaking sounds made the “wall-slam” feel more like an act of terrorism.

Normally, the victim of bad rumors is the one who ends up in tears, but Akina—possessing a short fuse and the title of the Knight Order’s most thoughtless individual—believed that once you let people look down on you, it’s over. Her 100% serious ferocity had already claimed multiple victims within Isberg Village, making a decline in the Knight Order’s reputation inevitable.

With this much noise, one would think the knights stationed in the village would take action, but they were busy staying alert in case monsters attacked the village and seemingly hadn’t noticed the internal commotion.

“Adults really are unreliable when it matters most…!”

“I told you, I’m an adult too!!”

“Hee-ugh?! I-if you’re an adult, then please, don’t do such violent things! I came to say my final goodbyes, but everything’s being ruined at this rate!!”

“Let it be ruined! Fatally so!!”

“Y-you monster!!”

Akina was being more violent than usual due to her irritation, and the fact that she was half-serious about wanting the relationship between the village and Busse to collapse made her truly the worst.

“Geez, Akina-san, you’re way too honest with yourself!!”

“And you’re way too dishonest with yourself!!”

…The two of them, completely ignoring the question of why they were even traveling together despite having such polar-opposite philosophies, finally reached Village Chief Fabre’s house. A walk that should have taken ten minutes had taken twenty.

Unlike the cold stares of the other villagers, Village Chief Fabre at least welcomed them with a superficial air of hospitality. For Busse, this was business as usual. However, considering the Chief was essentially ignoring the current situation and allowing the boy’s isolation to worsen, Akina found his attitude transparently fake.

Busse told the Chief with a bright smile that he would be going with the Knight Order.

The Chief, Busse’s de facto guardian, heard those words and gave a deep nod.

“—I see. So you’re leaving the village for the outside world…”

“Yes. I won’t be able to help with mountain surveillance or trap-making for a while, but I plan to come back in about a year, after treating it like a long sightseeing trip. I’ll buy lots of souvenirs too!”

“Yes, I think that’s fine. After all, your father was originally from this village, but he leaped out into the world too. Perhaps it’s true that blood will out.”

It was a casual remark—but Busse was stunned by it.

“Eh…? Dad went… outside…?”

“The man used to scream about how much he hated this countryside and troubled your grandfather, David… Hmm? Did David never tell you?”

“Grandpa almost never talked about my father… and he said he didn’t know anything about my mother, so he wouldn’t tell me…”

“…I see. Well, once you become an adult, I shall tell you what I know.”

Busse touched his heirloom goggles with his fingers, looking dazed. Akina, leaning against the wall looking bored, watched the Chief’s silent, contemplative attitude with cold eyes. Meanwhile, Busse was so shaken he couldn’t even pay attention to the Chief’s behavior. He was happy to hear about his father, of course, but the fact that followed was far more shocking.

‘Dad went outside Isberg…? He hated this place… this beautiful world of snow…’

It meant his father had hated this home that Busse claimed to love so much.

He had almost no memories of his father. He didn’t know his face, and no one would tell him what kind of person he was. A relative who was a stranger—a person for whom such contradictory terms felt appropriate. And yet, hearing that this man hated the village left Busse shaken, feeling as though his own identity had been rejected.

“Hey… Hey, Busse. Are you listening to me, punk?”

“Eh? Ah, sorry. I was just spacing out.”

“Get it together. I’m bored of all this waiting! You have something to give him, right? Just hand it over already.”

Busse realized someone was shaking his shoulder and looked up to see Akina’s sullen face. He realized how deep he had sunk into his own thoughts and chided himself.

That’s right, he didn’t plan on staying long. He had to give the Chief the gift.

“Right, this! It’s the hide of a magnificent bear that the knights took down yesterday! It has rare white fur, and I tanned it myself! You’ve always taken care of me, Chief, so please accept thi—”

Busse pulled out the pelt, fumbling slightly in his haste—just then.

Fate arrived mercilessly with a thunderous roar. A sudden sound of destruction echoed, followed by a low, growling vibration. As the ornaments in the room began to rattle, all three of them turned their gaze outside.

“W-what in the world is that sound?! That’s no ordinary sound of extra-large hail falling!”

“Hey Busse, what’s that noise?! Did some idiot mess up a gunpowder mixture?!”

“That shouldn’t be possible… The mixing and processing of gunpowder is done much further away from the village!?”

Just then, loud, panicked footsteps echoed through the Chief’s house, and the door was thrown wide open.

“Excuse me! Village Chief Fabre, we need to speak immediately—ah, Captain Akina!?”

“You’re from the… Recovery Squad, right? Whatever, your name doesn’t matter. What’s the situation!! What was that sound just now!?”

“Yes! We received intel that the white unidentified creature spotted on the mountain was heading for the village, and it just appeared nearby! Ten knights assigned to the village’s defense are engaging it, but the target is too massive! We can’t even slow it down properly!!”

It was too sudden, and the situation was utterly desperate.

Almost as soon as the village came into view—glimmering in my sight as I accelerated by bounding across the snow—something caught my eye. Though slightly blurred by the snow, the smoke rising thick into the sky was an ill omen for the Knight Order.

“A flare…!! And it’s red, signifying the highest danger level!! Damn it, I didn’t make it in time!! Please, let no one be a casualty…!!”

In my panic, the impact of my step dispersed. BOOM!! Snow sprayed violently. Hidden Style Eight: Dancing Phoenix is a movement technique that relies on concentrating leg power into a single point for acceleration; for the impact to spread across a wide area like this was proof that my power wasn’t properly focused. Naturally, my speed dropped slightly because of it.

…To ninety-nine out of a hundred people, it might have seemed like a “margin of error,” but as those errors compounded, I lost time and stamina. That was how little time I had to waste.

As I drew closer, the state of the village was grim—a path of destruction had carved a straight line through the street as if the road itself had been shoved aside. I couldn’t tell if the residents were safe, but looking closely, the houses themselves hadn’t collapsed. The damage was limited to walls, window panes, entranceways, and cobblestones—likely collateral damage from the engagement with the Knights.

I hesitated for a split second, but there were no Knights or residents here. That meant my seniors must have fulfilled their duty as knights, including evacuating the residents. I didn’t stop to investigate; I kept sprinting. It wasn’t a large village to begin with—my target entered my field of vision within minutes.

There stood the white titan, holding a massive tree trunk as tall as itself, facing off against the Knights. At the front was Captain Akina, gripping a single-edged woodcutter’s axe, flanked by her usual companions, Seniors Kebes and Neige. Kebes was the one who had been rambling in the cafeteria about condensation, while Neige was the female knight who had been giving him the cold shoulder.

Several other knights were trying to surround the beast, but they were hesitant in the face of its overwhelming reach. It was only natural; a direct hit from a log like that would likely kill you even through armor.

“It’s great that Captain Akina’s here to boost our combat power, but… nobody told me about this monster! We can’t worry about soil contamination anymore! Let’s just douse it in oil and turn it into a fireball, Neige!!”

“You really are an idiot. We’re outdoors in sub-zero temperatures. Even if you dump oil on it, it’ll freeze solid instantly and won’t burn. Go back and study your science.”

“Then let’s lure it into a pitfall trap!!”

“We didn’t make one, moron. And even if we had, we didn’t plan for a five-meter demi-human, so it wouldn’t fall in anyway. Besides, how do you expect to lure a monster that massive?”

“…I’ll carve a path through!”

“I heard that line yesterday, and you don’t have an actual idea, do you?”

“Can love (ai) not save people…?!!”

“If that was a pun on ‘idea’ (aidea) and ‘love’ (ai de wa), I think you should just hurry up and die.”

“Daaaaah!! Can’t you two show some sense of urgency?! Busse and the others are in the house back there!!”

…At any rate, the situation was apparently so dire that even Captain Akina had been relegated to the role of the straight man. However, if they needed a lure, I happened to know exactly how to do it. So, what was the best move?

If the white-haired Orc was targeting the Chief’s house, the reason was likely the pelt Busse was holding inside. In other words, there was a high probability I could draw the Orc’s attention using the pelt—or at least use it to lure the creature away if the worst came to the worst.

“In that case, there’s only one thing to do—!!”

I kicked off the ground and sprinted, picking up a piece of wood from the ground and hurling it at the Orc. I thought the Orc wouldn’t notice an object thrown from behind—but perhaps sensing the faint sound of displaced air or a presence, the Orc, which had been looking forward, swiped the wood aside and spun around.

“Guga…!?”

But there was nothing there, save for a single, deeply impressed footprint—.

“Got you, you big oaf—Seventh Form: Harrier!!”

“Bu… BUGYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!!”

Having circled to the exact opposite side of where the Orc had turned, my unsheathed blade flashed. An aerial spinning slash, backed by the torque of my entire body, traced the Orc’s arm—the one not holding the log—and tore through it with a burst of fresh blood. I intentionally let myself be seen through the scattering white fur and blood spray. Instantly—a massive log came crashing down, shattering the cobblestones.

Its judgment was decisive, moving from discovery to attack without hesitation, and the blow possessed enough monstrous strength to easily crush a human to powder. However, the Orc’s eyes could not find the mangled corpse that should have been where it struck. After a moment of confusion, a stone the size of a fist was pelted against the side of its head.

It hit with a sharp thwack, but it seemed to do no damage, blocked by the Orc’s massive frame and the thick fur covering its hide. To the Orc, it must have felt like a fly bumping into it. Its expression was hard to read under the fur, but I felt the wrinkles of deep rage multiply.

This time, the Orc and I truly locked eyes. I picked up another stone from the ground and threw it. This time, the Orc didn’t even bother to swat it away; the stone hit its belly and fell onto the snow.

To the Orc, I was a tiny human no better than an insect—yet I had thrown meaningless stones, evaded its attacks, and even cut its arm. The wound wasn’t deep because of the fur, but with all these facts piled up, a creature with pride was bound to get—angry.

“Brrrrr… Brrrrr…!! BUGYAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!”

“Heh, you were slow to notice me.”

That was the plan. I was the only one here—and I say this without vanity—who could read the Orc’s movements and transition to a counterattack. In other words, to get through this without casualties, I had to act as the bait while my allies made their move.

I realized from that last attack that the density of the Orc’s fur was beyond my expectations.

I had put even more power into that strike than I usually do when beheading an Orc, yet the wound was only a few centimeters deep. Moreover, perhaps due to the anti-freezing cream I’d applied, the blade didn’t bite into the target properly. At this rate, with the sharpness of my current sword, a long-term battle was inevitable.

If the Orc realized it was at a disadvantage and retreated—or if it gave up on the bear’s scent—we would have no idea when or where the next attack would occur. Orcs have a high capacity for learning; if there were a next time, it would corner the village using even more devious means. I wanted to avoid that at all costs.

By provoking it like this, its eyes would be fixed on me for a while, and the other members of the Knight Order should be able to gather info from the familiars that would soon arrive and formulate a strategy. Until then, I had to keep this Orc obsessed with me no matter what.

“Royal Foreign Hazardous Species Countermeasures Knights, Varna… It’s a name too good to give to an ugly, filthy beast like you, but try to remember it. It’s the name of the man who’s going to take your head—take it with you to the afterlife.”

“BUGYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!”

Facing the Orc as it swung its massive log, stirring up a wind of death, I responded by boldly raising my sword, stained with its blood.

A knight’s job isn’t just to fight and kill. If you look two or three steps ahead, you realize that sometimes the goal isn’t to defeat the enemy, but to buy time. And whenever you aim to do something perfectly, the cooperation of your comrades is essential.

“I’ll be your opponent, white-haired Orc. Once a Knight Order meets an Orc, there’s only one outcome—I’ll teach you that, using your life as the tuition fee!!”

Because that is how we, the Knight Order, have always overcome every crisis.