With its back set against the rippling, shimmering azure, the tightly lined wooden cabins built along the lakeshore — with simple yet towering wooden stakes serving as ramparts — encircled and shielded this little unnamed village.
The hearty laughter coming from the village gate issued from a man seated in a wooden wheelchair. He slapped the long sword fastened at the side of his chair and launched into spirited conversation with the newcomer.
"Some ten-odd years back, a band of Demon Race showed up at the village. The one leading them — well, what a piece of work that fellow was. Burly as a bear, broad as a tiger, easily as tall as three of me stacked on top of one another. And the most extraordinary part of it: that Demon Race had four whole arms!"
"Two of his hands gripped a pair of blades, and the other two clutched balls of fire. A fierce, terrifying sight — anyone laying eyes on him would shrink back in dread. And me? I had only this one sword."
"They do say the strong are drawn to one another —"
"The moment that Demon Race set his eyes on me, he flat-out demanded a one-on-one duel."
"Right then I shouted to my son behind me — 'Timmy! Quick, get word to the villagers, there's a Demon Race! Don't look back! Run!'"
"No sooner had the words left my mouth than two heavy long swords were bearing down on me. Undaunted by the scorching breath of my opponent, I drew my qi down to my dantian, gripped my sword in both hands, and traded blow after blow with that four-armed Demon Race! Countless flashes of sword-light blurred into afterimages, lighting up every direction; the ring of clashing blades sounded like the cries of apes and the screams of hawks, piercing right through the very clouds! That nearly-rusted sword of mine moved faster than it ever had before!"
"The strength of that Demon Race general was indeed no trifling thing. He and I clashed for more than a hundred rounds — sweat had so thoroughly soaked the hilt of my sword that it nearly slipped from my grip — and in the end I couldn't gain a single inch of advantage!"
"And then? Did you win?"
Yuna gripped the staff in her hand tightly, her bright eyes shining with interest. Clearly, she was very taken with this tale about the Demon Race.
"It shames me to say it. At the time I had given absolutely everything I had — but just as that Demon Race was about to fall to my blade... uh... he ambushed me with magic..."
The man in the wheelchair shook his head. Just as he was about to go on, a loud voice from behind cut him off.
"Pops, you're going on about those old exploits of yours again? When the truth is—"
"Timmy! You little brat! Where have you run off to this time? We've got a visitor in the village — get over here quick and help me play host!"
The man hollered out toward the youth at top speed, a guilty flush creeping over his old face.
A hawk-eyed young man — clad in a leather coat and leather armor, a long sword at his hip — walked up to the wheelchair and, somewhat puzzled, scratched at his tousled hair.
"Uh..."
Swallowing back the line — 'I'd only just gotten back, and you'd already been hacked flat on the ground' — Timmy decided not to expose his old man, and to leave the old fellow at least a bit of his dignity.
"Pops, I only just finished sword practice, that's all."
Watching the faintly aggrieved Timmy, Yuna couldn't help letting out a quiet "pfft" of laughter and a small smile. Traveling alone for so long, she had been a long while without the warmth and bustle of human company — and just like that, the strings of her tightly-wound nerves loosened a touch.
In this moment, she suddenly felt a small twinge of envy for this father and son.
Even after all the hardship they'd been through, the two of them could still be together here, and yet her own father... Lady Nanoda...
No, no, no — she pushed the thought from her mind at once. What truly mattered right now was getting back to Gaderia. Aaron would surely already be worrying himself sick over her.
Seeing Timmy fall obediently into line, the man let out a breath of relief, gave a small cough, and proceeded with the introductions.
"Ahem — right, well. This here is my son Timmy. And this is the traveling Mage Miss Yuna, from out of town. She got herself lost on the journey home, and would like to borrow the village to rest up a bit, and ask for directions while she's at it."
Under his old man's introduction, Timmy gave Yuna a brief once-over. The moment he saw that — even with traces of weariness about her — she still carried a sunny, lovely appearance, he hadn't even had time to feel nervous about it.
That air about her was utterly unlike the village girls. She held an innocence about her, while at the same time carrying an added elegance and maturity — extraordinary even amid the ordinary. With Timmy's poor vocabulary he couldn't put words to the feeling. Suddenly turning a bit shy, he scratched at his head, and forcing himself to manage as brisk a smile as he could, offered, "Hello."
"Mm." Yuna leaned forward slightly and returned the courtesy with a small bow.
Timmy could tell that this was probably the kind of bow used by the noble lords and ladies in the towns. With no idea how to return it in kind, he only thought it looked very pretty, and gave a slightly silly little "haha" of a laugh.
"Speaking of which — I have a question."
"Hm?" The man looked a touch puzzled.
"The ending of that story... those Demon Race who invaded the village — were they defeated in the end?"
"Ah — well, as for that..."
Timmy beat his old man to it: "After Pops was lightly... ahem, ambushed and knocked down, another band of Demon Race showed up. There seemed to have been some kind of internal feud between them — the two bands started fighting each other. By the time the villagers got there, only the second band was left standing. Unlike the first lot, this band of Demon Race seemed to bear us no ill will. They said they'd driven off the bad Demon Race, and wanted to come live in our village. But in the end, they were still driven out by us all the same."
"How surprising — Demon Race who bore goodwill toward Humans..."
In Yuna's understanding, the only Demon Race like that ever seemed to be Lady Nanoda. If that band of Demon Race had ever met Lady Nanoda, how might things have gone?
"At the time, the village chief turned them away. After all, this was over a decade ago — the Demon King had only just been defeated, and the bad blood between Humans and the Demon Race simply wasn't something that could be reconciled. Still — thanks to them, you might say I managed to claw my own life back from the brink." Timmy's old man chimed in from the side to round things out.
"I see. That was a fine story to hear."
—
Meanwhile, on another road, another journey was underway—
"Miss... Miss, wake up. We'll have to stop off a bit at the town up ahead."
The voice roused the lazily dozing Nanoda. She came to amid a heap of weapons and battle armor, gave a long stretch, and poked her head out from under the wagon's awning.
"You really do have a remarkable nerve, miss..."
To be able to sleep this soundly amid a pile of cold, sharp weapons — that was rare indeed.
"Tired..."
Returning from a thousand years past, then dealing with the matter of Macht without a moment's pause, then setting out from Gaderia to track down Yuna's whereabouts—
It almost felt like the first time she'd slept this well...
"You'd best keep yourself in one piece until I've had the chance to repay you, miss."
"My thanks. I'm fine. Though... with all those annoying ones from around me nowhere in sight, I'm finding it a little hard to get used to..."
"Sounds like you had quite a few companions before you set off, miss."
"Mm-hm..."
The wagon-driver was a middle-aged man. His meeting Nanoda had been pure coincidence.
Originally a traveling merchant looking to capitalize on the war to peddle weapons, he hadn't yet managed to sell off any of his wares when, along the road, he ran into a magical beast.
You see, the closer one drew toward the Central Lands — the territory of the various nations and the Continental Magic Association — the lower the odds of encountering a magical beast.
To run into a magical beast on a road that saw regular foot-traffic was, in a certain sense, the very pinnacle of bad luck.
For a lone traveling merchant out trying to turn a profit, that was a certain-death, despair-laden event.
As for why he hadn't hired any guards in the first place... well, to save the money, of course?
Fortunately, a wild pheasant that happened to be passing by saved the merchant's life.
A maiden descending from the sky, using a magic the likes of which he had never seen, cleaved both the wild pheasant and the magical beast clean in two—
____
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🔥 New history: A Martial Arts Master Will Never Be Humiliated
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