"What? You're withdrawing from the Martial Emperor Festival and leaving town? Why... no... Kool, if you say so, you must have your reasons."
At Kool's words, Klah—the party's leader—briefly widened his eyes, then composed his expression into one of seriousness.
Inside the cramped inn, the members of the Mourning Wraith had gathered.
The Mourning Wraith was a party built around its leader, Klah Andrih. The assembled members, including Kool Saiko, were small-time crooks at best, and the group's existence hinged solely on Klah—whose strength was the real deal by sheer coincidence. As for Kool and the rest, they were second-rate at best in terms of ability, and none of them even held a title.
One reason they'd been overlooked for so long was probably that, aside from their leader Klah, they didn't possess any notable strength.
And as for Klah himself, he possessed the noble spirit befitting a Treasure Hunter—exactly because of that, no one could quite be certain whether he was truly a fake or not.
Until now, the Mourning Wraith's operating territory hadn't overlapped with the Mourning Specter's. They'd never intentionally participated in large-scale joint operations, and if they'd ever been exposed, they'd planned to brush it off as mere coincidental resemblance. But now that they'd come face-to-face with the real thing, there was nothing to be done.
The Mourning Specter didn't seem to hold any particular grudge against Kool and his people. However, they had been recognized.
If they kept using such a similar name and causing havoc, there was no telling what would happen to them. For Treasure Hunters, reputation at times took priority even over the law.
At this point, there was no choice but to run.
A female alchemist with a terrible scowl. A red-haired woman who sat with her legs crossed roughly on the table.
Kutori Smyat—of the "Lowest Ridge," with a meager, almost flat chest barely filling out her top—puffed on a cigar and let out a deep sigh.
It seemed business in Krito had gone well. Kutori, who stretched cheap potions thin and lined her own pockets, was probably the most despicable member of this party. With a bottle of cheap sake in her left hand and a cigar in her right, she looked like nothing more than a common thug no matter how you looked at her.
She was the biggest earner yet stingy to boot—a rare member who probably surpassed even the original Worst of the Worst in sheer awfulness.
"Well, y'know... Kool's the cautious type. But even setting that aside, there's no way you lot could beat the real thing."
"Ha!? How can you say that about big brother!? Big brother could absolutely, definitely beat the real thing!"
"Don't be an idiot. And even if he's fine, the party members are way too weak. We haven't even found Anthem, and I've already made a pretty good haul. It's time to call it quits, isn't it?"
Kutori's words were rough, but they hit the mark in their own way. If you had to name the biggest difference between the real thing and the fakes, it would be the weakness of the party members.
Among them, the most inexperienced was Rusha. In a party that included the powerful mage Klah, the still-green mage Rusha was dead weight. According to Klah, she had talent—but even so, comparing it to Klah's own talent, which he'd honed fighting alone with barely any master to speak of, was like comparing heaven and earth.
Rusha shook her head vigorously and screamed through tear-filled eyes.
"Shut up, shut up, shut up! You flat-chested hag! We finally got tickets, and the Martial Emperor Festival is the perfect chance to show everyone big brother's power!"
"............"
Zuri wore an expression that said she really couldn't care less about showing anyone anything. In fact, overall, Kool and the others were rather reluctant about the whole thing.
None of them—Kool, Zuri, or Kutori—particularly cared about being Treasure Hunters. They'd just seen someone who looked like the real thing, put on similar faces, and gotten dragged along from there.
No, the one with no interest in being a Hunter was probably Rusha as well. All she had was her devotion to Klah.
Klah wore a serious expression for a while, thinking deeply. Then he narrowed his eyes slightly and spoke with a hard-boiled look.
"I see... I understand what you're saying. But even so—even if defeat awaits, the Martial Emperor Festival is a tremendous opportunity. I want to challenge the real thing."
"The real thing?"
In response to Zuri's suspicious gaze, Klah spoke in a resonant, almost singing voice.
"Yes! Everyone gathered here is a genuine warrior! And even stronger fighters will appear in the main tournament! If I retreat now, I'll have betrayed all the powerful opponents I've faced until now! I may be a fake at this moment—but I will fight here, and prove my strength and pride! My soul as a Hunter demands it!"
"That's just your ego talking."
Even at Kutori's exasperated remark, Klah showed not the slightest offense.
It was beyond comprehension how he could spend so much time interacting with the real clan's members and yet remain completely oblivious. Beyond comprehension how he'd failed to notice that the real one had personally asked him to help catch criminals together. One would think he'd have caught on right away that they were imposters...
He didn't know what the real one was thinking. But it seemed there was no stopping him this time either.
Kool's stomach churned, and he reflexively pressed a hand to his abdomen.
Kool Saiko was the party's brains. But Klah Andrih merely pretended to listen to what Kool said, while doing exactly as he pleased.
As a Thief, Zuri was sensitive to that kind of danger, and whispered to Kool in a low voice.
"What do we do? Run for it?"
"Hmm..."
What should he do... Kool furrowed his brow and crossed his arms with a groan.
Running would be easy enough. He didn't have any strong attachment to the party, and if he fled, Klah would just rationalize it in his own convenient way anyway.
But Klah Andrih was the kind of man you just couldn't bring yourself to abandon.
§ § § It was a strange forest.
Trees planted at regular intervals stretched endlessly, yet it lacked virtually all trace of the life one would expect from a normal forest.
No birdsong, no sign of beasts, not even insects—and most bizarre of all was the soil.
The forest floor was composed of fine, loose sand that trickled through your fingers when you scooped it up. Earth so devoid of nutrients that plants could barely grow in it.
And indeed, numerous attempts at afforestation at this very location had all ended in failure.
Until the day a high-level Hunter visited.
[Toizant]. The land had only recently been known as the Land of Sand.
At the heart of the forest lay a small village.
A curious settlement where brick structures stood alongside wooden houses.
A sun-darkened man with a thick cloth turban wound around his head noticed something was wrong and shouted in alarm.
"Hey, the fox spirit's gone! Has anyone seen her!?"
"What!?"
"She's probably off somewhere taking a nap again, isn't she?"
Villagers gathered with worried expressions at the sound of the commotion.
The one who had created this miracle forest was a girl wearing a fox mask.
Her true identity was unknown. All the villagers knew was that the one who had brought her was the renowned Thousand Transformations, and that in exchange for fried tofu, the girl would wield her mysterious power for them.
While it was unlikely she was actually a god, the girl's power was immense.
The afforestation that had failed no matter how many famous mages they'd invited before was accomplished in an instant.
The village head—a man who had led the afforestation efforts—looked up at the tree standing at the village center.
It was a colossal tree that should have taken a thousand years to grow to such a size. So thick that ten people linking arms could barely encircle its trunk, and towering even above the forest that grew day and night around it. From a distance, it must have looked like a single absurdly massive tree jutting out of the landscape.
It had grown directly above something tail-like that Thousand Transformations had placed. Nearby, as the girl had warned before departing, a small shrine had been built—and the girl had always been napping there.
But the girl, who should have been sprawled out there for most of the day, had vanished without a trace. Three pieces of fried tofu sat in a bowl, dried to a crisp.
This was clearly an emergency. That fox spirit, who loved fried tofu so much she'd eat it the moment it was offered, would never leave tofu to dry out like that.
She might go for a walk, but she never forgot her meals—that was the fox spirit.
"............"
But the villagers didn't panic further. They simply exchanged troubled glances.
This green, verdant land had been an oasis longed for by the desert people. Everyone was grateful for the miracle forest, and the voices calling for Thousand Transformations to be awarded a medal had only grown stronger.
But even greenery had its limits.
The forest's growth knew no restraint. Without anyone replanting, it spread further with each passing day, dyeing the desert green at a terrifying pace.
The wooden houses were the result of the villagers' desperate attempt to hold back the forest as it threatened to swallow the village whole.
Desert-adapted flora and fauna were driven out, and some people caught colds from the sudden temperature drops caused by the unexpected forestation.
Most frightening of all, there was no end in sight. Even when the fox spirit was asked to stop around here, she wouldn't.
Eventually, one villager spoke in desperation.
"Could... could Thousand Transformations have taken her away?"
"That's it! You're right!"
"That man must have taken the fox spirit with him!"
"I saw him fiddling with some kind of square board! He was using that to communicate!"
Voices rose in agreement, eventually turning into cheers.
The truth of the matter didn't matter. The forest's encroachment had stopped. Toizant had been saved.
The relief and excitement did not subside even after night fell, and a feast of gratitude began.
§ A Phantom was a memory of the past reproduced by Mana Material. Therefore, a Phantom had no natural lifespan unless there was a particular reason for one to.
Being non-biological, it was untethered from the desires of living creatures. Even its individual quirks were rooted not in experience but in the reason for its existence.
And so, the Phantom that had arrived from [The Wandering Inn]—a nameless little sister fox born from powerful Mana Material—was now moving as though driven by compulsion.
She had to move.
A Phantom had no need for food. She couldn't really tell good taste from bad. And she certainly wasn't acting on behalf of that stubborn human.
But a habit deeply carved into her very existence was demanding the object known as fried tofu with an intensity that bordered on burning.
"L-Lady White Fox, you're really sure it'll be all right!?"
A woman dressed as a shrine maiden approached the little sister fox, who had seated herself in the kitchen, and prostrated herself.
Having lost count of how many times she'd been asked this, the little sister fox answered in a cold voice.
"It will be fine. Everything has been calculated with precision. I understand everything."
"Y-yes... this is... this is the Boss's order. The Boss's order—"
She had no interest in human affairs. The little sister fox was a Phantom born as a divine being—that is to say, she was a god.
Gods were imperious. A god did not trouble itself with the affairs of mere mortals.
The little sister fox simply wanted to eat fried tofu.
That she had obeyed the human her brother called "the deaf one" was nothing more than the result of a negotiation.
Even if thousands of humans died, even if an organization collapsed—the little sister fox was a fox. If her heart was read ever so slightly and she was tricked, that was her own fault for being deceived.
She should learn from the deaf one. That human—impossibly—wasn't thinking about anything productive.
From the very start, he'd practically been letting himself be deceived of his own volition. It made sense that the mother had lost. Wisdom contests were, surprisingly, most troublesome against people of that sort.
Even the little sister fox didn't know what to do.
Opportunities to deceive humans had been rare when she'd lived in the Treasure Hall.
As her tail swished back and forth in a good mood, the Resonance Stone she'd taken from the priest vibrated.
She accepted the call, but heard no voice.
???
She tilted her head and stared at the stone for a while. Then a voice came abruptly.
"You—are who?"
"............"
She realized her mistake. Even the little sister fox's power had its limitations. She wasn't omnipotent, and there were things she was good at and things she wasn't.
Deceiving someone at a distance was difficult. Without being face-to-face, reading their heart was harder still. This particular opponent, moreover, seemed to possess considerable mental defenses. She could barely read what was inside their head.
That voice carried power. The kind of powerful force that could intimidate even the little sister fox, raised in one of the world's most elite Treasure Halls.
Now then, whom should she impersonate?
Sora? Gaf? Sora's master?
The situation was of no consequence—but that didn't mean she was ignorant of it.
She stroked her tail and thought. Then, the little sister fox changed her voice and spoke.
"Nice to meet you, Boss. No, wait—that doesn't sound right. I've been watching you for some time now. I am Thousand Transformations. Without the deaf one here, I'm your enemy."