IBTRFL Chapter 31

The top of a green hill is a good place to hold the whole surrounding view in your eyes at once.

Simple farmers plowing fields and scattering seed, children swept along by whatever it was that made them laugh in bright bursts, priests sweeping the church steps and trading words with passersby.

A village like something out of a painting—peaceful, hushed.

That was why she'd chosen it. Wandering feet had stumbled here by accident, but it had seemed like a place where she could rest without being disturbed.

"……."

A gentle wind blowing in from the forest stroked the grass, and sunlight, warm as a blessing, wrapped itself around the white headstone.

She had chosen a spot that caught the most sun. It wouldn't be cold here anymore.

Her blank gaze settled on the engraved name, then lifted away before long.

Aer pulled her hood down low and started down the hill.

"Ah, Sister, I'm glad you haven't left yet."

"Hello."

Aer bowed her head. It was the priest who kept the village's church. He must have run over the moment he heard, because sweat stood out on his face in fine, even beads.

"There's nothing else—it's just that I have something to tell you. I wanted to make sure it reached you before you left."

Aer blinked.

"Me?"

"Yes. We've decided how Miss Viola's legacy will be used."

The priest folded his hands and continued, respectful.

"Half will go toward building a new place for the village children to study. The other half toward repairing the church's relief shelter. Once again—Miss Viola, and you as well, Sister, have our thanks."

"……No. I didn't do anything."

Aer looked away and denied it. The priest shook his head with a kindly smile.

"Not so. The goddess will bless you both."

"……Thank you."

"Are you leaving now, then?"

"Yes. Now that the headstone's finished, I suppose it's time."

"I see. The church will tend Miss Viola's grave. I'm not clear on the details, but word is the watch says something isn't right out there lately—be careful."

"I hope you keep well too, Father."

Aer left the priest behind and walked out of the village. Today of all days, not a traveler or peddler in sight. Not even a rat.

She dug through her pocket and pulled out a rolled-up map. It wasn't especially accurate, but it beat having none at all.

"Saksum. At least three days, then."

Aer tucked the map away, bent at the waist, and kneaded her knees.

The hateful growing pains always made a show of announcing themselves right when she'd just managed to forget them. Though lately the pain did seem to have dulled a little.

She rolled her waist a few times and started jogging lightly. Every breath filled her lungs with the clean smell of grass.

The mountain was strangely quiet. She couldn't even hear the usual insects in the grass. She hadn't fully left the holy city's sphere of influence yet, so this place should have had monsters with reasonably sharp claws living in it somewhere. The current stillness didn't sit right with a mountain like this.

More than that—in the two days she'd stayed in the village, she hadn't found a single trace of a monster. Even the few she'd dug up deep in the mountain had been overwhelmed by something—huddled in on themselves, shrunken.

Aer dodged a branch reaching for the bridge of her nose and turned it over in her head.

In all her years as a mercenary, there was exactly one thing that made a man or a beast tuck its tail. Coming up against a strength so overwhelming there was nothing to be done about it.

"What—"

Something suspicious caught Aer's eye as she ran.

A cold glint through the dense underbrush. In the same instant, an arrow tore against the wind, snarling toward her.

Aer drew her sword on reflex and knocked the arrow aside.

The two halves of the broken shaft tumbled onto the dirt.

The presence in the underbrush went still, then turned and bolted.

"You little shit—"

Something filthy tore out of her mouth. Aer chased the manners-free attacker.

The world's never fair. That's exactly why you go after it.

"D-don't come any closer!"

Panicked by the pursuit, the bandit scrambled and started loosing arrows in a hurry.

Unlike the first, she didn't even need to bother knocking these aside. Off-target, they either buried themselves in the ground or lodged in some innocent tree without so much as brushing her sleeve.

Aer eased off her pace and let the distance widen. Then, while the bandit's eyes were fixed ahead, she slipped behind a thick tree trunk.

"D-did I lose her?"

The bandit craned his neck this way and that, checking his surroundings. Apart from the occasional call of a mountain bird, nothing stirred.

"I made it."

The bandit pressed a hand to his chest in relief and moved on. In the exact opposite direction from the one he'd fled in.

'Not completely brainless after all, then.'

Aer killed her footsteps and followed him.

Through the dense trees, a dark cave mouth came into view. Armed men posted at the entrance. Not a ragtag crew, then.

"I—I'm back."

"What, you? The boss said not to go wandering around, it's dangerous."

"No—forget that! I ran into someone insane! Dead serious, I swear on my life—she knocked an arrow out of the air with her sword! Like this—yeah?"

The excited bandit shouted, swinging his sword through the motion.

The men watched, faces baffled, unsure whether to believe their friend or not.

"Would you calm the hell down! Boss said don't go out until that bastard's gone!"

"M-move! I have to tell the boss! She could be a knight sent to catch us!"

"Would you please just calm—b-boss!"

From inside the cave, a solidly built man came strolling out.

Plate and chain mail. A well-loved blade, worn smooth by years in the same grip. Eyes vicious, seasoned, sharp.

Even at a glance, this was no ordinary bandit's air.

The madly thrashing bandit's whole energy died at once. The men around him were too busy sneaking glances and reading the room.

Aer's brow creased.

Knights, in real life, weren't the exemplary figures literature liked to make them out to be. There were those who followed chivalry and kept their noble vows, like the knights of the monastic orders—but most of them were nothing but rotten bastards, thick on the ground, no different from some mercenary or common thug.

A thug and a mercenary are half a sheet of paper apart, and a mercenary and a knight are half a sheet apart as well.

How bad had things gotten, that even a joke like that—too grim to laugh at—was making the rounds in public?

And among even those, there were some who'd thrown away the last scrap of their pride and chosen ruin outright. People had come up with a fine name for that particular kind: bandit knights.

"So. She knocked an arrow out of the air, is that it."

"Y-yes, boss."

"I see. If she's not at that level, she wouldn't have had the nerve to follow you all the way here."

"What?"

The bandits around them stirred. Aer clicked her tongue, short, and stepped into view.

The bandit who'd shot the arrow pointed at her, shouting.

"Th-that—! You—how did you—!"

At that, the blood drained from his face. He shook as though he might faint on the spot and started stammering excuses.

"B-boss, no. I never sold you out, I swear! I really didn't know, I really, really didn't!"

"Shut your mouth."

At the flat, decisive word, the noisy bandit clamped his lips shut.

"You're going to die nice and quiet."

The words weren't even finished before the bandit knight lunged.

Aer whipped her sword up and caught his blade. The two well-honed pieces of steel tangled violently, ringing out with an ugly vibration.

The bandit knight let out a short grunt and put his weight into it.

The precarious balance of force between them snapped. Teeth gritted, Aer twisted her wrist and let his sword slide off hers.

Rotten to the core or not, a knight was a knight. Even off-balance, he drove the thrust precisely for her throat.

Aer ducked low, dodging, and cut in toward his side.

The edge of her sword, cold and sharp, aimed for his gut. The bandit knight drew a dagger from his belt, knocked her sword away, and kicked her in the ribs.

The impact crashed through like a heavy iron hammer, crushing bone and muscle together.

Instincts are dead. For real, dead. Aer laughed despite herself and staggered backward. The bandit knight had already reset his stance and came charging in with his sword raised.

Face blank, Aer fended off the blade coming at her from every irregular angle. Her struck side rang, dull and heavy.

The bandit knight smiled, rank and rancid.

"Holding up better than I expected."

"Shut it."

Aer snapped back, sharp.

This was the first time she'd fought another human being since coming back. And, as if fate had decided to make a joke of it, one who used a sword, no less.

She'd added a little unnecessary pride on top, partly to shake the rust off her instincts—decided she'd rely on the blade alone, no magic. But it turned out her neglected swordwork made that nothing but stupid pride.

There's nothing so foolish as standing on your dignity in a real fight.

"What the—!"

Flames shot up and blasted out heat that could cook flesh.

Startled, the bandit knight flailed and stumbled backward.

The ground around him heaved, and a thick root tore up through it. Choking dust swallowed his sight, and the root, growing as it climbed, bound his legs fast.

Aer didn't let the opening slip. She knocked the knight's sword clean out of his hand. A heavy metallic clang rang through the quiet forest, and the fallen steel rolled across the ground.

The bandit knight shot a hand toward the dagger at his belt, but—

"W-wait!"

Too late.

The sword drove up deep beneath his jaw and through. Aer pulled it free, breath ragged. Thick, viscous, scalding blood came heaving out in pulses.

The root, its work done, sank back to where it had come from. The man, swaying with his hands clutched to the wound, lost what had been holding him upright and toppled backward.

"B-boss!"

Aer wiped the blood spattered across her cheek and turned to face the rest.

The remaining bandits swung their gazes between the corpse and Aer, faces going pale, and scattered, each one running in a different direction.

"Where do you think you're going."

Aer stamped her foot lightly.

The earth shuddered, cold. A massive wall of ice tore up through the ground's skin and cut off the fleeing men's path.

Aer came on stumbling, dragging her feet, and jerked her chin, face worn out.

"Arms, legs—one each. Then you go."