Chapter 6
Light slanted through the shutters onto Brain's face.
The sunlight shone through his eyelids and woke him from a sleep so deep he didn't even dream.
After he opened his eyes, he squinted in the bright sun and held up a hand to block a ray.
Sitting up on the bed, he hurriedly took in his surroundings like a baby mouse. The plain room contained only the bare minimum of furniture. The gear he'd been wearing was piled in one corner.
"Is this what a new servant of Nazarick is given?" he commented snarkily at the empty room. And then he instantly regretted it, but luckily the other occupants of their safe house in Re-Estize did not hear that. Relieved no one was around to punish him for the insolence, he stretched. His joints popped audibly, his stiff muscles relaxed and his circulation improved.
He let out a big yawn.
"… They must have chosen a place that wouldn't stick out. This room is probably a letdown.. Eh, I guess it's none of my business," Brain grumbled. Then he snickered, not at his superiors, but at himself. If he was capable of considering such trivial things, perhaps he had healed a little from the two great shocks his mind had suffered.
He remembered the image of that powerful monster who probably was somewhere in the very same building and couldn't keep his hands from shaking. "Yeah…" The fear clinging to his psyche wouldn't come off so easily. Shalltear Bloodfallen.
An absolute power that even Brain Unglaus, who had sacrificed everything he had to study the blade, couldn't begin to approach. A monster among monsters possessing all the beauty in the world, or so it seemed. And a possessor of true strength. Just remembering her summoned a fear that permeated his entire body. Then, it all disappeared as he thought of the second, greater shock.
After bumping into her, he hadn't anticipated running into something more powerful than her. Or rather, he thought it didn't exist someone like that. Instead, there he was. Someone who was so strong he could boss around Shalltear as he pleased. And the most ridiculous yet most enticing thing about him was that the terrible monster known as Oshikuru had confessed he was not born like that. He used to be a man like Brain, perhaps a bit stronger, but still leagues away from beings like Shalltear Bloodfallen. But that didn't stop him at all, that being weak was what drove him to become the strongest of the strongest. He transcended humanity and even the hero realm, he'd gotten to the gods' realm if not even beyond thanks to powerful items he either crafted, bought, stole or killed for, relentlessly bettering himself and his gear until his power became unmatched.
But Brain had nothing of the sort.
He opened his hands and they contained nothing.
He glanced at the pile of gear in the corner and saw the katana he'd acquired in order to wrench victory from Gazef Stronoff's grip.
But what would be the point in beating him? Now that he knew of a power infinitely greater than them both, what significance did their low-level competitions have?
"Plowing fields…probably would have been more meaningful." As he mocked himself, he looked at his newest, most precious piece of equipment. One that mattered several thousand times his own life.
He touched it as if to make sure it wasn't an illusion. Cutter III's hilt felt as solid and smooth as ever. A sensation of safety and strength coursed through him.
"Master Oshikuru… I don't know if I could ever become like you… but I swear I won't let you down. I'll wield this sword in your name until you decide it's time to take back what's rightfully yours—"
He suddenly stopped talking, sensing someone standing outside the door.
"Unglaus, it seems like you're up already..." The male voice belonged to the master of the house. Yet another creature who could end his life before he could even realise it.
Or at least so it was before I was gifted a weapon worthy of the gods. And now I wonder…
"Yes, Lord Demiurge, I'm awake. Is there—"
The devil spoke again interrupting him: "Good. Dress up quickly but properly. Master Oshikuru is downstairs. Do not keep him waiting."
The door opened wide a few seconds later and the man walked out. Brain Unglaus was already fully outfitted. Demiurge's face showed a little positive surprise at such speed.
"Let's go then."
While going down, he continued. "You really slept, huh? I'm surprised by how well you rested in a place that isn't Nazarick…"
"Ah, yes, thanks for letting me have a good break, Lord Demiurge. I know already Nazarick is on a whole different level, but after all I'm still just a human."
The demon smiled thinly. Exactly at what, Brain couldn't say.
"No worries. But even if you're still just a human, don't forget you're part of Nazarick now. Since a Supreme Being has decided to grant you such an honour, always be ready and grateful to do all that is asked of you in the best possible way."
"Of course, Lord Demiurge. I have given an oath to faithfully serve Nazarick until I'm allowed to."
The demon kept silent as they walked down the stairs.
The safe house was not as large as the mansion gotten by Nazarick's other secret team in Re-Estize. One of the many reasons Demiurge had chosen such a regular place was the fact that Nazarick was low on money, at least on the Kingdom's currency. Knowing the Supreme Beings themselves were currently working to make money deeply irritated Demiurge who did not want to waste a single copper of all the coins earned by his masters.
Actually they were having more fun as adventurers than absolute rulers, but he couldn't possibly know that. He wished he could read the minds of the Supreme Beings to understand their true intentions and bathe in their unlimited knowledge. And now one of them stood up in the middle of the house's main hall.
Before him, bowing deeply, was Shalltear Bloodfallen and a couple of her vampire brides. Seeing the monster who crushed him bending the knee to the monster who took him in made Brain smile a little. Still, he did not forget to play his part. It had been difficult for him at the beginning, but now he saw that monster as his mentor and master.
"Lord Oshikuru, sorry for making you wait. Please punish your most foolish servant as you see fit," said Brain prostrating himself on the wooden floor.
"Glad to see you've adapted to this new life, Unglaus… but there's no time to waste right now. Your shadow demon will lead you to Sebas Tian. Help him in his quest… which is going to that illegal brothel and destroy it. Kill everyone in it but the… victims… and the criminals' leaders, if there's any. Once you're done, give them to local authorities. I'm curious to see how they'll handle it… Ah, don't show off the weapon I've given to you, but use it when necessary. And if people ask, you're just doing this because you dislike Eight Fingers, don't let anything about Nazarick slip your mouth. Now, go. Once you're done, come back here."
Brain was full of questions, but he obeyed without hesitation. "As you wish, master Oshikuru!" And he hurriedly left as the demon in his shadow started telling him where to go.
The green-haired man smiled at the blue-haired man who disappeared behind the heavy entrance door. You were a lonely son of a bitch who only cared about getting stronger… and you still do, but now you're learning the value of loyalty. That's good. You might end up like me—
His thoughts were interrupted by Shalltear, whose beautiful face seemed confused. "Oshikuru-sama, please forgive me, but I'm not sure I understand what's going on…"
The man did not answer her. He turned to his demonic form, holding back the skill unleashed by the racial change. Still, the powerful aura exuding from his body made everyone in the room bow down a little more.
"Demiurge, I get it that you have a plan we previously approved of, but things can unexpectedly change. Lord Ainz and I have shared about Celicia Veyron's quest with you and the consequences it brought, especially what happened a few days ago when Sebas found her sister. Why didn't you act based on that information?"
The ArchDevil seemed more ashamed than afraid.
"Master, I am deeply sorry. I did not think it was our duty… I was sure it was up to Sebas' group… now I get it, how could I not see you meant for us to use the brothel to get to the Eight Fingers' higher ups! Lord Oshikuru, please punish me as—"
"Enough! Perhaps we could have been clearer… knowing how clever you are, we may have been a little careless when sharing the information without telling you what to do… anyway, everyone makes mistakes. What matters is not to repeat them, and that this one was no big deal. Speaking of mistakes, another Floor Guardian may have made one. One of you shall come with me and the other will stay here to protect the base. Hmm… Shalltear, you're the strongest, I leave this house to you. Protect it and when Unglaus comes back, let us know about it."
"As you wish, Oshikuru-sama!" said the high-pitched voice of the little vampire, glad to have been given a direct order by a Supreme Being.
"Perfect. Let's go, Demiurge. [Gate]!"
And a dark portal appeared in the middle of the room. After the two demons crossed it, Oshikuru replied Demiurge's question before he even asked. "Ainz-sama had been told Sebas might be a traitor," said the Supreme Being dropping the bomb over Demiurge's head.
Sebas walked, wondering what to do about the five men who'd been tailing him ever since he left the house. He wasn't going anywhere in particular. He'd set out with the belief that getting moving would change his mood and help him find a good idea. All of the gears in his brain were spinning so wildly he didn't know what to do.
After a little while, he saw a crowd of people in the road up ahead. There were voices that could be described as neither shouts nor laughs and the sound of something being struck. People in the mob were saying things like "He's going to die" and "Maybe we should call a soldier…"
He couldn't see through the throng, but it was clear that something violent was happening. Sebas thought he would take a different street, went to change direction, hesitated for just a split second and then proceeded. He was heading for the center of the crowd.
"Excuse me." With those two words, he wove his way in. Apparently shocked, in awe of this figure slipping by them with unexpected agility for an elderly man, the people he passed by stiffened.
There seemed to be others trying to reach the middle of the crowd as he could hear voices saying, "Let me through!" but they struggled, unable to break through the mass of people unlike him who soon propelled himself to the center with no trouble. In there, Sebas learned with his own eyes what was going on. There were several poorly dressed men kicking something.
Sebas strode silently forward to within arm's length of the men's group.
"What do you want, old man?" One of the five realized he was there and loudly challenged him.
"I thought you were making a bit of a racket."
"Are you lookin' for trouble, too?"
The men swiftly surrounded Sebas and revealed what they'd been kicking. A boy, lying limply on his side and bleeding from either his nose or his mouth, or perhaps both. Probably because he'd been getting kicked for so long, he was unconscious but apparently still alive.
Sebas stared down the men. Their bodies and breath reeked of booze. And their faces were red from something other than exercise. You're drunk, so you can't keep yourselves from turning violent? "I don't know what started all this, but how about you leave it at that?" Sebas asked with a blank expression.
"Huh?! This kid's food stained my shirt! I'm not about to let him off the hook!" One man pointed to something. Certainly, there was a faint stain on the shirt; however, these men's clothes were all grungy anyway. Considering that, the spot was barely visible.
Sebas looked at the one who seemed like the leader of the five young men. The butler had the senses of a distinguished warrior, so he could pick up differences humans would overlook.
"Hmm…this city isn't very safe."
"Huh?" One of the men felt ignored at Sebas's distant comment and made a noise like he was offended.
"…Leave."
"Huh? What'd ya say, old man?"
"I'll say it again. Leave."
"Why you—!"
The leader got red in the face, balled up his fists… and then crumpled to the ground. Many of the surrounding people were shocked, including the other four men. What Sebas had actually done was simple. He'd made a fist, struck the man's jaw with pinpoint precision at a speed on the very edge of human perception and rattled his brain with a high-velocity hit. He could throw punches faster than humans could perceive, but if he did that he wouldn't be able to scare anyone, so he'd held back.
"Do you still want to fight?" Sebas asked quietly.
His composure and strength had overcome the intoxication clouding their minds, and they all apologized as they backed away several steps. Sebas felt they were apologizing to the wrong person, but he didn't say anything.
He looked away from the fleeing men carrying their now unconscious friend and went to take a step toward the boy, but his foot stopped midway. What am I doing? What I needed to do was think of a way to solve his problem. Only an idiot would make more trouble for himself at a time like this... I saved him for now. I should be satisfied with that. But let's make sure he'll survive. With those thoughts in his mind, Sebas approached the little figure on the ground.
He touched the limp, immobile boy's back and poured chi into him. A full-power infusion would have easily healed him completely, but that would definitely draw too much attention. Then Sebas set off walking. There was no need to elbow his way through the crowd. The wall of people neatly parted for him.
Right after he left, he sensed that the number of people tailing him had gone up. There was just one problem, their identity. The five who had been following me from the mansion had to be Succuronte's henchmen. So who are the two who joined after the incident with the boy? From the sound of the footsteps and stride length he could tell they were adult males, but Sebas had no idea who they might be. Well, thinking about it won't get me an answer. I guess I'll have to catch them.
Sebas continued walking, turning down dirtier and dirtier streets. He was still being followed.
… Are they even trying to hide themselves? There was no indication they were attempting to conceal their footsteps, unlike the five from before. Is it because they don't have that ability, or is there some other reason? Sebas cocked his head and decided he should simply find out. Once the presence of the Succuronte's men had dwindled, right when Sebas was about to make his move, the young-sounding voice of one of his pursuers called out to him.
"Excuse me!"
Climb was thinking as he walked back to the castle.
He replayed that morning's session with Gazef in his mind several times, ruminating on what he could have done to put up a better. Around the time he decided on some tactics to try if there was a next time, he discovered a crowd of people making some angry shouts.
Two soldiers were watching awkwardly from nearby. From the middle of the crowd, he could hear a ruckus. And it belonged to no normal voices. Climb took on a firm expression and strode toward the soldiers.
"What are you doing?" The sudden call from behind startled the soldiers, and they turned to look at Climb. They were equipped with mail and spears. Over the mail shirts, they wore something like a surcoat with the kingdom's coat of arms. It was the typical appearance of a kingdom guard, but these two ones didn't seem highly trained. First of all, their physiques were not particularly built. Plus, their beards weren't neatly shaved and their mail shirts weren't polished, which made them look rather unclean. Overall, they seemed sloppy.
"And you are…?" one of the guards asked in a voice that implied confusion and anger at the sudden call from someone younger than him.
"I'm a palace guard. I'm off-duty," Climb declared, and the man's consternation showed on his face. Probably because an obviously younger boy seemed to be suggesting his rank was higher.
For the time being, the soldier appeared to judge that taking a humble approach would be smart and straightened up. Still, he played dumb. "There seems to be some sort of disturbance."
Climb repressed the urge to reprimand them with an I got that much! Unlike the soldiers guarding the castle, the ones patrolling the city were commoners, so they hadn't been through as much training. They were essentially peasants who'd learned to use a weapon. Climb moved his eyes from the nervous soldiers to the cluster of people. Rather than expecting these to do something, it would be faster to act himself. Maybe he was exceeding the authority of his position by sticking his nose in their business, but he wouldn't have been able to explain to his compassionate master if he stood by while people suffered.
"You guys wait here."
Having made up his mind, Climb forced his way into the mass of people without listening for a reply. Even if there was a small gap, he couldn't slip through. No, it would be strange if there were a human who could. As he desperately elbowed his way through, nearly getting shoved aside, he heard a voice from the center of the crowd.
"… Leave."
"Huh? What'd ya say, old man?"
"I'll say it again. Leave."
"Why you—!"
This is bad. They were going to lash out again, this time at an old man. When Climb popped out of the crowd, flushed after frantically pushing his way through, the first thing he saw was an elderly man and some brutes surrounding him. There was a child who looked like a tattered rag at their feet. The elegance of the well-dressed older man indicated he either was a noble or served one. The robust men around him seemed drunk. A glance was all it would take to tell who was in the wrong.
The man who seemed to be the strongest curled his hands into tight fists. The difference between that man and the old one was overwhelming. He had a stocky body, bulky muscles, and a violent temperament that wouldn't hesitate to shed blood. If he hit the older man, he could easily send him flying. The people around them who realized this released faint screams at the thought of the tragedy about to befall the old fellow.
Climb was the only one among them who sensed something was off. Certainly, the other man looked more robust, but Climb had the feeling that the absolute power he sensed belonged to the older one. That momentary distraction meant he lost his chance to stop violence from breaking out again. The huge young man balled up his fists… and collapsed.
Surprised voices sounded around Climb. The old man had made a fist and whacked the drunk's jaw with terrifying accuracy at quite a high speed. It was a punch that Climb, who had trained his eyes to follow fast movements, could only just make out.
"Do you still want to fight?" The old man's deep, quiet voice asked the question. His composure and sudden display of strength were incredibly sobering for the drunk men. Even the spectators were overcome by the elderly man's drive. The men had completely lost the will to fight.
"U-uhh, we're sorry." They all apologized as they backed away several steps. Then they picked up their friend from his awkward position on the ground and fled.
Climb didn't feel like pursuing them. Mesmerized by the old man's straight posture, he couldn't move. His spine was as straight as a sword. Any soldier, Climb included, aspired to cut a figure like that. After touching the boy's back, perhaps palpating to make sure he was still alive, the old man walked off. The crowd parted in a straight line creating a path and no one took their eyes off his back. That was the effect of such poise.
Climb rushed over to the boy on the ground and took out the potion Gazef had given to him during their training session. "Can you drink this?" There was no response. The boy had lost consciousness completely. Climb opened the bottle and sprinkled the potion over his body. Many people thought potions were only for drinking, but they worked equally well when they were poured on the target. Such was the extraordinary nature of magic.
As if the boy's skin was drinking it in, the liquid was absorbed into his body. The color returned to his face. Relieved, Climb nodded once. The bystanders were just as surprised at the use of such an expensive item as they were at the old man's moves. Climb had given up a potion, but he did not regret it. Since taxes were being collected from the people, it was his very duty as someone subsisting on that money to protect them. Since he hadn't been able to defend the boy, he should at least heal him.
I've used a potion on him, he should be fine, but we should still probably take him to the shrine, just in case. When he glanced at the guards standing by, there were three more. They must have shown up late. The guards who had finally arrived on the scene turned a critical eye on all the people in the area. Climb spoke to one of the uncomfortable-looking patrolmen.
"Take this child to the shrine."
"What in the world…?"
"He was beaten up. I used a healing potion on him, so I think he's okay, but I want you to take him to the shrine just to be sure."
"Right. Understood!"
Climb decided he would leave the rest up to the guards. His work there was done. A soldier from the castle probably shouldn't stick his nose into other jurisdictions too much.
"Can I ask you to get the details about what happened from someone who saw the whole thing?"
"Understood."
"Then I'll leave the rest up to you."
The guards were more confident when given orders and after Climb confirmed that they were taking efficient action, he stood up and took off running. He heard one of them call, "Hey, where are you going?!" but he ignored it.
When he got to the street where the old man had turned, he slowed down. He caught sight of his target right away. He wanted to call out to him immediately, but he wasn't feeling brave enough. He felt an overwhelming amount of pressure, like a thick, invisible wall. The old man continued to walk, suddenly turning down dirtier and dirtier streets. Climb continued after him. All the time he was following, he couldn't bring himself to talk to him.
I'm tailing him. Climb despaired at his own conduct. I shouldn't do that no matter how hard it is to talk to someone. I need to change this situation, he fretted as he kept walking. Eventually, about when they'd reached a back alley devoid of human presence, Climb took a few deep breaths and shouted with all the courage he could muster, like a man confessing his feelings to a girl he liked.
"Excuse me!"
The old man whirled around in response to the voice.
His hair was completely white like his beard, but his old age could not fool Climb who'd seen his strength. Conspicuous wrinkles in the man's chiseled features gave him an air of kindness, but his penetrating eyes were like those of a hawk targeting its prey. He even had the elegance of a great noble.
"Did you need something?" The old man's voice was a bit hoarse but full of a lively, dignified energy. Climb felt an invisible force pressing in on him and he swallowed. "U-uh…" Overwhelmed by the powerful presence of the old man, he couldn't get proper words out. Noticing that, the old man relaxed. "Who are you?" His tone was gentle. Finally, released from that heavy pressure, Climb's throat could work normally.
"…My name is Climb, and I'm a soldier here. Thank you for doing what should have been my job." Climb bowed, humble and low. The old man squinted slightly and then seemed to realize what Climb meant with a little "Oh… It was no trouble. I'll be going now."
Climb raised his head and, as the old man clipped the conversation short and started walking off, said, "Please wait. Actually… I'm ashamed to admit it, but I've been following you also because, and I hope you'll laugh at my impertinence, if you don't mind, I'd like you to mentor me about that skill you used."
"What… do you mean by that?"
"I'm working very hard to get stronger, so when I saw your incredible movements earlier, I thought it would be great if I could get you to teach me the skill."
The old man, seemingly curious, looked Climb up and down. "Hmm…let me see your hands." Climb stuck out his hands and the old man gazed intently at his palms. He couldn't help but feel uneasy. The old man flipped his hands over, glanced at his nails and then nodded in satisfaction. "They're thick and sturdy—good warrior hands."
The smile and the compliment made Climb feel warm inside. The rush of happiness was on par with the one he felt when Gazef had praised him. "No… I'm barely a soldier", he stated trying not to blush.
"No need for modesty… Next, may I see your sword?"
The old man gazed first at the grip, then at the blade, of the sword he was handed. "I see… Is this a spare weapon?"
"How did you know!"
"So it is, then. See, there's a dent here."
When he closely examined the place the old man was pointing at, sure enough, the blade had a slight ding in it. It must have struck something in an awkward way during training.
"How embarrassing!" Climb was so mortified he wished he could disappear.
Because Climb was aware of how unskilled he was, he paid an obsessive amount of attention to his weapons to gain even a little bit of an edge. Or at least, up until that moment, he'd thought so.
"I see. I have a rough understanding of your personality now. Hands and weapon are mirrors of a warrior's character. You've made a very favorable impression on me."
Climb, beet red to his ears, looked admiringly at the old man. What he saw was a gracious, good-natured smile.
"I'll train you, but just a bit. However…" he stopped Climb before he could thank him— "There is something I want to ask. You said you're a soldier, right? Well, the other day I saved this woman who…"
After hearing the old man Sebas's story, Climb was furious. He couldn't hide his disgust at the fact that someone would abuse the emancipation of the slaves Renner had proclaimed and that nothing had even changed yet.
No, that wasn't right. Climb shook his head. The law prohibited the buying and selling of slaves. However, it wasn't uncommon to have people working off debts in poor conditions. That loophole had become a free-for-all. Actually, it was probably precisely because there was a loophole that the law managed to get enacted at all. Renner's law is nearly meaningless. The thought flitted across Climb's mind, but he shook it off. What he needed to consider right now was Sebas's circumstances.
He furrowed his brow. Sebas was at a total disadvantage. Certainly, it would be possible to investigate the terms of the young woman's contract and counterattack, but he couldn't imagine the opposing side wasn't prepared for such a tactic. If they appealed to the law, Sebas would surely lose. The fact that the other men hadn't already done so had to be because they felt they could rip him off even better some other way.
"Do you happen to know anyone who isn't corrupt who could help me?"
Climb knew only one person. He could say with confidence that there was no noble with more integrity than Renner. He knew she could be trusted. But he couldn't introduce her. If these people were capable of skirting the slave-trafficking prohibition, they were sure to have connections with various power structures. Naturally, the nobles they were affiliated with probably had a fair bit of authority.
If the princess, a member of the king's faction, invoked state authority to investigate, enact a rescue and cause losses for the nobles' faction, it could lead to all-out war. Exercising authority wasn't such a simple matter. One wrong move could trigger a conflict, especially in a case like their divided kingdom's.
He couldn't let Renner be responsible for the downfall of the state. Lakyus felt the same way, which was why their earlier conversation had gone as it had. That was why Climb hadn't said anything, no, couldn't say anything.
However Sebas had interpreted his anguished silence, he murmured, "I see," and then offered additional news that shocked Climb. "… From what she told me, there are still others held captive in the building, men and women alike."
What the heck? So does that mean there is another brothel besides the one run by the slave-trafficking org? Or…is it the same one?
"If it's a matter of allowing them to flee somewhere… I would have to ask my master, but she has some land, so maybe they could go there…"
"Can you guarantee that …Would you be able to shelter the woman I saved as well?"
"My apologies, Sir Sebas, but I can't promise anything without asking my master. That said, she is a very compassionate person. I think it'll be all right!"
"Hmm! If you have that much faith in your master, she must be a wonderful person."
Climb nodded emphatically. He had a more admirable master than anyone.
"I'm changing the subject here, but if we could prove slave-trafficking activities were taking place at the brothel, what would happen to it? Would even that get covered up?"
"There's a possibility they would be forced to close up shop if we turned in the evidence to the proper authorities… At least, I want to believe the kingdom isn't that corrupt."
"…Understood. Now then, allow me to ask you a different question. Why do you want to get stronger?"
"Huh?" Climb let out a foolish-sounding yelp, caught off guard by the sudden topic change.
"You just said you want me to train you. I've judged that I can trust you, but I want to know the reason you are pursuing power."
Climb squinted as he pondered. Why do I want to get stronger?
Climb had been abandoned as a child and didn't know either of his parents' faces. In the kingdom, this wasn't such a rare thing. And it wasn't uncommon to die facedown in the mud, either. It had been Climb's fate to die in such a way in the rain that day. But instead, he had met the sun. After crawling around in the dirt and the dim his entire existence, he was enthralled by its brilliance. When he was young, he had admired her and as he grew, that feeling had assumed a stronger form. Love.
He had to destroy that emotion. A miracle like in the sagas the bards sang would never happen in the real world. Just as no human could reach the sun, Climb's feelings would never reach her. And worse, he couldn't allow them to. The woman Climb loved was fated to be a powerful man's wife. There was no way a princess would end up bound to someone like Climb, whose status was lower than a peasant's since his origins were unknown. If the king suddenly collapsed and the eldest prince assumed the throne, Renner would surely be married off immediately to one of the great nobles. It had probably already been decided between the prince and the noble. Or it was possible there would be a strategic marriage to someone in a neighboring country.
It was strange that she was of age but had no husband or even a fiancé. It was a golden moment, and he would have given anything to stop time. If he didn't have to train so much, he would have been able to relish it a little more. Climb was an ordinary person with no innate ability. Still, thanks to his hard work, he'd managed to get fairly strong as a soldier. So deciding he was satisfied with that, quitting his workouts, and spending a little more time next to Renner would be a better use of his time, wouldn't it? But…could he really do that? Climb admired her brilliance. That was no lie nor was it mistaken. It was just a feeling from his heart. But…
"I'm a man, so…" Climb laughed. Yes, he wanted to stand next to her. The sun shone up in the sky. A human could never stand next to it. Still, he wanted to climb as high as he could, be someone who could stand even a little closer to her. He didn't want to be forever looking up at her in admiration. These were the silly feelings of a boy, but they were good for a boy to have. He wanted to be a man suitable for the woman he admired, even if they would never be together.
It was because he had those feelings that he could endure his friendless life, his difficult warrior path, and the studies that chipped away at his sleeping time. If anyone wants to laugh at my foolish ideas, let them. Only a person who truly loved someone could understand.
Sebas squinted as he intently observed the boy, wanting to comprehend the countless meanings contained in the short reply. Then he nodded in satisfaction.
"Based on that, I've decided what sort of training to give you."
Climb was about to thank him, but a hand moved out to stop him. "But I'm sorry to say, it appears you have no innate aptitude. If I were to really commit to training you, it would take a long time and I don't have that luxury. I'd like to train you in such a way that is effective and possible in a very short amount of time, but…it's quite intense."
Climb gulped as Sebas's eyes sent a chill up his spine. They were the piercing eyes of someone whose power surpassed Gazef's best efforts, as impossible as that seemed. That was why he couldn't answer immediately.
"I'll be blunt: You could die."
He's not kidding. Climb sensed that. He didn't mind dying if it was for Renner's sake, but he definitely didn't want to die for his own selfish reasons. He wasn't a coward, no, maybe he was. He swallowed and wavered. For a little while, it was so quiet they could hear a far-off commotion.
"Whether you die or not depends on your spirit… If you have something precious to you, if you have reason to cling to life even if you're brought to your knees, you should be all right."
Wasn't he going to teach me martial arts? Climb began to wonder in the back of his mind, but that wasn't the issue at this point. He considered the meaning of Sebas's words, digested it, and then replied, "I'm ready. Please train me."
"You mean you're confident you won't die?"
Climb shook his head. That wasn't it. He wanted to cling to life even if it was on his knees, since he always had a reason to. Having perhaps read these feelings in Climb's eyes, Sebas nodded emphatically.
"Understood. Then let's begin the training."
"Here?"
"Yes. It will only take a few minutes. Prepare your weapon."
What in the world are we going to do? Climb drew his sword and faced the unknown with a mix of apprehension and confusion, together with a bit of anticipation and curiosity. The ring of the blade sliding against its sheath echoed in the narrow alley. Climb pointed the sword at Sebas's eyes and Sebas stared at him.
"Okay, here I go. Do your best to stay conscious." And the next moment it was almost like blades of ice had shot out from him in every direction.
Climb had no words. What was really swirling around Sebas was his killing intent. A thick, dark presence surged over Climb like a wave, almost enough to crush his heart at that moment. He thought he heard a scream, like someone's soul being broken. It could have come from close by or far away, or it could have spurted out of his mouth. Tossed on the murderous black torrent, Climb felt his consciousness beginning to white out. There was so much fear that his mind was trying to let go of consciousness to avoid it.
"…Is this how much of a man you are? I'm just getting warmed up."
Sebas's disappointment echoed loudly within Climb's fading awareness. Those words cut Climb deeper than any blade could. It was enough to make him forget the terror coming at him, even if only for a moment. Ba-bum. His heart thumped once, loudly.
He exhaled sharply. He was so scared, wanted to run away. But he desperately stood his ground with tears in his eyes. His hands shook and the tip of his sword wobbled crazily. His mail shirt was making a racket he was shaking so hard. He desperately clenched his jaw to stop his teeth from chattering and tried to withstand his terror of Sebas.
Sebas snorted at Climb's unseemly state and slowly began to ball up his raised right hand. In less than a few blinks, it had become a round fist. Then one of them slowly began moving back, as if it were being drawn like a bowstring. Realizing what was about to happen, Climb shook his head, all trembling.
Sebas, of course, would not entertain his silent wish. "Well, then…please die."
Like an arrow released from a fully drawn bow, Sebas's fist zoomed forward with a roar of ripping air. This is instant death. Climb sensed it coming in a slow motion. His mind was seized by such a perfect image of death, an iron ball much taller than he was. zooming straight for him at a furious speed. If he shielded himself with his sword, he was sure the fist would smash through like it was nothing. Worse yet, his entire body could no longer move. He was so tense he'd frozen. There's no way to escape the death I'm facing.
Climb gave up but then got irritated at himself. If I'm not going to die for Renner, why didn't I just give up back then? I should have died shivering all alone in the rain. He saw Renner's beautiful face. They say life flashes before the eyes when you're on the brink of death. Supposedly, that's the brain groping through the memories of the person's entire past for a possible way to escape, so Climb found it strange that the last thing he would see was the smile of the master he loved and respected.
Yes, she was smiling. She hadn't smiled for him when she was young right after she saved him. When did she start smiling for me? He couldn't remember. But he did remember her timidly doing so. Would that smile become a frown when she heard he'd died? Would thick clouds blot out the sun? Would she cry a river of tears, pouring down like the rain on that day? Dammit!
Climb's heart flooded with rage. His life had been tossed into the street and she had picked it up. That meant this life was not his. I exist for Renner, to make her even a little happier… There has to be some way to escape! The fierce loyalty shattered the chains of fear. His hands moved, his feet moved. The eyes he'd been trying to squeeze shut flew open and frantically shifted to the fist rushing at him with incredible speed.
It was like all of his body's senses had been sharpened to extremes, as if he could detect the slightest vibration in the air. It's said there's a phenomenon known as hysterical strength. It's the unbelievable potential people are able to exhibit in extreme situations because their brain releases the limiter holding back their physical power. The brain secretes large volumes of hormones, concentrating the mental faculties all for the purpose of survival. Suddenly, a person can process a vast amount of information at high speed in order to discern the appropriate course of action.
Climb entered the realm of the best warriors for a brief moment. But Sebas's attack was still faster. Surely it was already too late. He probably wouldn't have time to dodge the fist. Still, he had to move. There was no way he could give up. He could tell he was moving like a tortoise in this intensely compressed period of time, but he desperately twisted his body. And then…
… Sebas' fist blew by Climb's face. The ensuing wind pulled out a few of his hairs. A quiet voice reached his ears. "Congratulations. How does it feel to have conquered the fear of death?"
Climb stood there with a dazed expression, not understanding what he'd just been asked. "How was it? How did it feel to face death? And how does it feel to have overcome it?"
Breathing hard, Climb stared at Sebas with an empty expression, as if he'd lost something. It was like his intent to kill had been nothing more than a lie. Sebas' words sank into his brain, and he felt relief flooding him. As if the violent drive to kill had been propping him up, Climb crumpled to the ground like a marionette whose strings had been cut. Flat on the road, he voraciously sucked fresh air into his lungs.
"…You're lucky you didn't die of shock. It happens sometimes. People become convinced they will actually die and give up on life."
Climb still tasted something bitter in the back of his throat. He was sure it was the taste of death.
"If we repeat this a few times, you should end up able to overcome even the most ordinary fear. We need to be careful, though, because this stimulates your survival instincts. If they grow numb to it, you won't be able to recognize clear danger. You always need situational awareness."
"…F-forgive me, but who or what are you?" Climb gasped from below.
"What do you mean?"
"Th-that killing resolve was not the sort a normal person can project. So what in the world—?"
"For now, let's say I'm just an old man who has confidence in his strength."
Climb couldn't take his eyes off Sebas' smiling face. The expression seemed to be pure kindness, but it also seemed like the fierce grin of one with absolute power far surpassing even Gazef.
A man who might far exceed Gazef, the strongest warrior from any of the nearby nations… Climb decided his curiosity would be satisfied with that. He didn't think it would be right to press the issue. Still, the question of who this old man Sebas was lingered stubbornly in his mind. He even wondered if he might be one of the Thirteen Heroes.
"Then I think it's about time to get going—"
"W-wait! There's something I want to ask you!"
A terrified voice echoed out from behind them, interrupting Sebas.