[70] At the Summit (4)
"Even so, if you don't become a mage, it's all for nothing. Isn't that right, Shirone?"
"Huh? Ah, of course."
"Relying on other people's money to do something is like handing your life over to someone else. If you succeed, fine, but if you fail you end up with nothing. Shirone, you can't do that. For your parents' sake at least, secure a way to earn a living and then learn magic. Are you going to live off your parents forever? It's not like you're strong enough to do hard labor."
Even if he didn't become a mage, Shirone could still get a job with the knowledge he'd learned. Being a commoner, if he swallowed his pride there were plenty of places that would hire him. Still, it was true he'd never seriously thought about what would happen if he failed—just as Altor had said.
How could I not have thought about that? A desperate last stand? Arrogance? If I fail to become a mage, what kind of life will I have?
His stomach churned. Failure. Anyone could fail, and Shirone was no exception. The practical questions from the kids of the slash-and-burn village chilled his chest.
When the mood sank, Altor proposed a game. Part of it was an attempt to reclaim his authority as leader.
"All right, enough heavy talk. Hey, Shirone. How about an arm-wrestling match, for old time's sake?"
"Huh? With me?"
"Yeah. You used to be unexpectedly tough. Let's see if any of that toughness is left."
The kids drummed the table, egging them on.
"Ooooo! Warrior versus mage! A showdown of the ages!"
As the tavern warmed up, Shirone shoved his gloomy thoughts aside and forced a smile. Arm-wrestling someone who could hoist an adult—beyond pride, it was just absurd.
"How about a bet? Drinks on the loser?"
Altor planted his thick forearm on the table; Shirone didn't back down and offered his hand. If there was a wager, a man's pride meant he had to accept, win or lose.
"All right. Let's do it. No holding back."
"Of course not."
The moment their hands locked, Shirone felt like he was gripping a boulder. If he'd turned himself into photons and tossed Altor aside, the drinks would have been free—but that was only a fanciful thought.
Martin volunteered as referee.
"Everyone ready… start!"
Shirone squeezed out every ounce of strength. But Altor's brute force surged like a wave, and before he could react Shirone was flipped to the other side. He crashed to the floor under the table, rubbing his elbow. It wasn't mere strength— it was raw, monstrous power.
"Ow ow ow. He's really strong."
"Wow! Of course it's Altor. Shirone's a mage and he tossed him in one go!"
Magic had nothing to do with arm-wrestling, but the title of mage still carried weight for the kids.
"Of course! Altor once even hunted a bear before!"
Having reclaimed his authority, Altor finally laughed heartily.
"Hahaha! Shirone, you've really weakened. You used to be better than this. This bet's pointless now. Drinks are on me, Shirone."
Lumina came over and helped Shirone to his feet. Her eyes were full of apology.
"Shirone, you okay? Seriously, Altor—what are you doing being so rough?"
She was from the slash-and-burn village too, so she knew why Altor had pushed him so hard. But Shirone was also used to mountain life, so he wasn't upset.
"I'm fine. But Altor's gotten really strong."
As Shirone stood up, a pouch of gold coins slipped free and spilled open. The little, lovely coins rolled across the floor. The kids' eyes widened.
"Huh? Those are gold coins, real gold coins!"
"What? Where? Wow! Really! There are five of them?"
Even the kids at the far end of the table clustered around, mesmerized by the coins. In the slash-and-burn village even adults rarely used gold; for kids who made a little pocket money, the gleam of gold looked almost sacred.
"You've got a lot of money. Why are you carrying five gold coins?"
Shirone blushed as he bent to pick them up.
"I brought a lot just in case. There's a book I really want, and it would be terrible if I didn't have the money."
"Books are expensive, after all."
The children already knew Shirone liked books. Even when he'd come before with Vincent, he always had a book tucked under his arm. The village folk who couldn't read didn't care for books, but the number of gold coins made them understand at a glance how different Shirone's life must be.
"Shirone. So can we spend these as we please? Since they're yours, you'll buy whatever you want, right?"
Shirone looked troubled. He'd never been careless with money. As Altor had said, it was money from others. But the kids were stunned just by the amount. Worried he might hurt their feelings, he chose his words carefully.
"There's almost nothing I need to spend on. School eats up so much time I end up skipping meals most days, that's about it."
"Still, you can pay for the drinks, right? You lost the bet."
"The bet? Ah, right."
Shirone had heard Altor offer to pay, but if he pretended not to notice the gold now it might only offend him. Altor wasn't stupid; he'd follow the natural flow of things.
"All right. I'll pay. I lost, after all."
The kids erupted in cheers.
"Yes! Then we get to use the gold, right? Shirone, can you hand it to me now? I've never touched a gold coin."
"I'll do the bill. It's been my dream to take out a gold coin!"
"No, I'll do it!"
Before long, Shirone had become the kids' little leader. Lumina watched Altor with concern. As expected, his face showed bruised pride.
He didn't get angry because he was like Lumina. She'd watched Shirone since childhood and knew he hadn't changed. He was still the kind kid who thought of others first.
"Enough of that! Men being stingy over a gold coin! When will you grow up? Let's drop it and talk about something else."
Lumina scolded them, and the kids slunk back to their seats. Shirone was grateful.
Quick-witted Martin changed the subject.
"By the way, did you hear? It showed up on the mountainside again yesterday."
"Ah, I heard that too. At this rate there won't be any wild animals left. How long is it going to keep eating everything?"
"It must be a pregnant Cowbear. Its appetite's huge."
The Cowbear was the largest gray bear. Especially when a female was pregnant she ate twice her normal amount, which made hunters' lives difficult.
Shirone had hunted a fair bit himself, so he showed interest.
"A Cowbear came this far down? Aren't they supposed to live on the other side of the range? This is a real problem."
"Don't mention it. My father's a hunter and he's been coming up empty. The beasts are almost gone, what can we do?"
"Then why don't we all hunt it together? Cowbears aren't particularly aggressive. Five people should be enough, right?"
"It's logging season, so everyone's busy. They said, judging by its range, it probably won't give birth here. If we wait about a week it should go back to normal."
"I see. That must be hard for you, mister."
Altor's eyes sparkled as he snapped his fingers.
"Hey, Bread. What if we hunted that Cowbear ourselves?"
"What? Us? Isn't that dangerous?"
"How do you take me? I've hunted red bears—the ones people call vicious—until I was sick of them. A Cowbear is nothing."
Altor planned to restore his tarnished honor with this hunt. His advantages over Shirone were brute force and hunting skill; this was a chance from the gods.
"Hey, what do you think? Let's all help Bread."
"Well, I'd be grateful if you did."
If they failed to bring back game, families would starve. The children couldn't ignore Bread's situation. Besides, Altor had once taken down a red bear despite his size.
"All right! Then tomorrow we hunt the Cowbear!"
"Woooo! My blood's boiling! Bread, don't worry! I'll sink an arrow into that bear's skull!"
"Idiot! You? We'll set a trap and leave it to Altor."
"We leave at dawn! Shirone, you're coming too, right?"
Altor asked with bright eyes. To reclaim his place as leader he needed Shirone to join. Shirone, understanding that, nodded—almost relieved.
"Okay. My father taught me some things, so I can pull my weight."
"Good! Then cheers!"
Foaming beer mugs clinked in the air.
* * *
The next morning at dawn.
Shirone woke at first light and prepared for the hunt.
The specialized tools would be divided among the kids, but everyone had to bring their own basic gear.
He coiled a rope neatly so it wouldn't tangle and slung it on his pack, checked his bow and arrows.
He packed cloth for torches and glue, and made sure he had big nails and a hammer.
Extra arrowheads went into a leather pouch, and he carefully packed dried rations and a whistle in case they got lost.
When he lifted his pack, the familiar weight made him glad.
Shirone thought, I'm still alive, and opened the door to find the other kids already gathered in front of his house with their gear.
"Hey, Shirone. You're late. Forgot something? Heh heh."
He smiled awkwardly. Those who actually worked out in the fields were different, he thought.
"Haha, sorry. I'm rusty from not doing this in a while."
"Anyway, let's go. We should be back before dark."
Altor took the lead; Shirone followed in the middle with Lumina. Martin brought up the rear.
When they reached the Cowbear's territory, the sun had risen.
Lumina lit a fire and started cooking. Breakfast was corn soup with melted goat cheese and bread. Shirone dipped the hard bread in the soup and swallowed.
"Tastes great. Lumina really can cook."
"Hehe."
Lumina smiled shyly. If it had been before she'd have fussed about paying her share, but everyone had changed a lot. It was a good change, and Shirone felt relieved his friends were doing well.
"If you've finished, let's head out. I think it's up higher."
Altor led the kids up the mountainside. His guess proved right—trees were marked as bear territory. Martin pointed to a tree deeply clawed.
"Look at this. The bark's actually gouged out. It must have some serious strength."
Altor inspected the claw marks closely.
"Hmph. This is nothing. The paw doesn't look that big."
"Still, isn't this dangerous?"
"Bears are known for their strength. They're faster than you think. But Cowbears are pretty sluggish. With this number of people we can take it."
Shirone, a step behind, examined the marks and frowned at a subtle unease. They were just scars, but he couldn't picture a bear marking territory like that.
'Strange. This doesn't feel like something done by blunt force. It's more like something very fast and sharp swung at it…'
Altor notched an arrow and bent his torso, looking back as he said, "We should start here. Be careful. Let's go a little further up and set traps."
The kids following Altor moved quietly up the slope. Mountain life had made them nimble.
Shirone entered his Spirit Zone and scanned the surroundings. Its forty-meter radius was narrower than a skilled hunter's full perception, but once he felt off he figured caution wouldn't hurt.
By the time they neared the summit, a very unpleasant aura hit Shirone's synesthesia. He stopped to identify it, and Altor turned.
"Shirone, what are you doing? We're not setting traps here."
"Altor. Something's wrong."
"What do you mean wrong? I don't feel anything."
Altor tried to shut down Shirone's objection in advance. No matter how smart Shirone was, when it came to hunting Altor considered himself the expert. But Shirone didn't relent; he stepped off the path and walked toward somewhere he'd sensed. Altor, angry, followed. Acting alone on a mountain could put everyone at risk.
"Shirone. If you keep acting like this, then just go—ugh!"
Altor stopped short and his face went pale. Even Shirone was speechless at the sight before them. Nausea rose and the smell of the goat cheese at breakfast turned foul in his throat.
"What on earth is this?"