The sun had set, and the imperial capital was shrouded in twilight darkness when a horse-drawn carriage stopped in front of the Clan House.
It was an unremarkable box-shaped carriage drawn by two horses.
As proof it didn't belong to the clan, the carriage body bore no footprint emblem.
At a glance, this wouldn't look like something "Beginning Footprint" used.
Eva, who had taken on the task of arranging the carriage — something outside her usual duties — cast a questioning glance my way.
"You said you wanted something inconspicuous, so..."
"Mm-hmm, looks good."
As expected of her. Carriages normally had to be reserved well in advance to be rented.
If it belonged to the Explorer's Guild, some flexibility would be possible, but the carriage before us wasn't that type either.
It had only been a day since she'd been asked, yet she'd managed to produce one. Eva's competence truly shone.
"It's a rental, so if you break it, you'll have to pay for the damages. It's not expensive, but..."
"...I won't break it."
"...How many times have you said that before?"
Behind her glasses, her half-lidded eyes looked up at me.
It was a hopeless case — she clearly didn't trust me at all. I gave a small cough and spoke.
"I didn't break it. It broke on its own."
Not my fault. There was nothing I could have done.
I used to think carriages were sturdy. Now I knew their fragility all too well. Even one reinforced with metal armor wouldn't stand a chance against an ambush from a horde of monsters or Phantoms.
Of course, I wasn't doing it on purpose, and I wasn't charging into monster lairs either, but being a Hunter was just inherently a dangerous profession.
Nowadays, I couldn't even enroll in Hunter carriage insurance. Strange, wasn't it...
Eva studied me — decked out in Treasure Weapons from head to toe — and spoke in a businesslike tone.
"...It would be a great help if you could return as soon as possible."
"Yeah, of course I understand."
Eva might not have heard what Liliz had been saying about vacations. There was no thorn in her gaze.
Return as soon as possible. Yes, I would return as soon as possible. But I never said when. The earliest I'd return was after the "White Sword Gathering" was over.
"When is the 'White Sword Gathering' again?"
"Huh? ...It's the same day every year... exactly three weeks from now."
Three weeks, huh... longer than I expected. This was going to be a long vacation.
Just picking up Luke and the others would leave plenty of time to spare. Sightseeing outside the capital for the first time in a while might not be bad.
In the end, I couldn't find any clan members willing to accompany us. Some had religious ceremonies, some had weddings, some weren't feeling well — well, the blame partly lay with me for asking on such short notice, but the timing was just too unfortunate.
But looking at it another way, it was better that the number was narrowed down. We'd fit in just one carriage.
Though to begin with, I hadn't even decided where we were going... My apologies for the haphazard planning.
"Klye, I kept you waiting."
Just then, I spotted Citry jogging toward us from down the road.
She wore a deep green robe with a large gray bag slung over her back. In her hands she held a sturdy trunk case, making her look like any ordinary traveler at first glance. The impact was muted because Kirukilu, whom she usually brought along on hunts, wasn't with her.
Travel preparations — food and potions, information gathering about the Treasure Hall, and tools for contingencies — were always Citry's role. Luke and Liliz in particular were constantly forgetting things she needed, so she took on that support role as well.
The bag she carried wasn't a capacity-infinite...
Space-Time Bag ...was it? But it was a truly wondrous bag that somehow held everything she might need. Her ability as a rear-guard was nothing short of outstanding.
As I narrowed my eyes in fondness, Citry, now right in front of me, gave a light glance behind her.
"Klye, let me introduce them. These are our new collaborators."
"...Huh?"
Three large men with thoroughly villainous faces were glaring down at me with hostile eyes.
They'd been in my line of sight, but I hadn't even considered they might be companions of Citry's. All three were bigger than me, each with different hair and eye colors, but overall they had a thoroughly wicked appearance. Sun-bronzed skin, unkempt beards — one had an old scar on his cheek, another had a large tattoo covering most of his exposed shoulder. The last one had no scars or tattoos, but possessed the cunning eyes of a fox.
What stood out was the metal choker each of them wore around his neck.
These were the kind of people you'd immediately dodge if you encountered them on the street. I absolutely did not want to ride in the same carriage with them.
The three men said nothing when they saw me. Only a heavy silence and an oppressive aura. Even Eva was furrowing her brows.
Citry spoke with a bright smile. How could she possibly maintain that cheerful expression surrounded by three such archetypally menacing men.
"Um... this is Kuro, Shiro, and Haiiro."
"...Are those their real names?"
"They're more like code names."
Code names... distinguished by hair color, apparently?
I didn't know what connection they had, but the people in question seemed satisfied with the arrangement.
The three behind her clearly looked displeased at those words. Blue veins bulged on their foreheads, and the sound of grinding teeth was audible. Their hands, hanging at their sides, trembled with rage. Why were they staying silent?
Citry was the type who never let anything slip. There was probably no problem, but just to be sure, I pulled Citry aside and asked in a quiet voice.
"Hmm... are they actually okay with being 'collaborators'?"
"Of course. I owe them a debt."
That sure didn't look like it. The gazes Kuro, Shiro, and Haiiro directed at me were the kind you'd give an enemy. I could even sense killing intent.
I didn't know what kind of debt she owed, but they didn't look like the type who'd make for a fun vacation. If anything, I'd rather they didn't come.
"You're bringing all three of them?"
"Um... I was planning to bring them on a trial basis, but—"
Citry glanced behind her once more, looked up at the three men, and then clapped her hands together as if struck by a brilliant idea.
"If there's any member that Klye doesn't like, I'll dispose of them. Before Big Sister arrives... it should be possible, I think."
"Dispose" was quite the ominous phrasing.
The three were probably Citry's subordinates. At her words, their expressions shifted dramatically, turning stiff.
They'd likely been hired for a job. The prospect of that employment being revoked would naturally make them pale.
Sometimes you had to do unpleasant work. Living was tough.
And while I felt extremely guilty saying it, three was simply too many. With Liliz and Tinno also coming, the carriage would be packed.
Citry wore a thin smile.
"Please don't hesitate to say so. You won't make any enemies."
"Let me see..."
With arms crossed, I studied Kuro, the one with black hair. His hardened physique marked him as a veteran who had weathered countless battlefields.
Kuro, still wearing that rigid expression, spoke for the first time.
"I'm... Kuro. I'm confident... when it comes to killing."
Killing, huh... Would there ever be an occasion to use that particular skill? Well, as far as bodyguarding went, he certainly looked capable enough.
Next I looked at Shiro, who had long white hair casually tied back. He wasn't as large as Kuro, but the tattoo covering his shoulder was clearly not the kind an ordinary person would get.
Shiro spoke in a dry voice.
"I'm... Shiro. It's an honor... to meet you. I'll do... anything."
"Anything?"
"Th... anything!"
Hmm... Full of enthusiasm, then. Whether carrying luggage or standing guard, he was willing. Despite his looks, he might actually be a decent person?
The last one — Haiiro, with gray hair — returned a gaze that seemed to be sizing me up.
All three, as Citry's picks, were clearly very strong. But still... thinking about it calmly, with Liliz and Tinno there, wasn't that enough for protection? If they were clan members, that would be one thing, but with strangers along, I wouldn't be able to relax.
I turned my gaze back to Citry and put on a half-hearted smile.
"Sorry, but all three might be a bit much..."
"!!"
Citry's eyes went wide. Just as she opened her mouth to say something, Shiro and Kuro punched Haiiro.
It was a blow without the slightest hesitation. The tremendous crack sounded as if a blunt weapon had been swung down with full force. Haiiro, the thinnest of the three, bounced off the pavement and went tumbling down the street.
Before I could even react to the sudden violence, furious shouts erupted. The pale-faced Shiro and Kuro mercilessly kicked at the rolling Haiiro.
"You! You piece of shit! You promised to behave, didn't you! Go die!"
"Apologize! Apologize to Citry... -san! You're fucking useless! Got your pride all twisted — Aaah!?"
The impact of his skull hitting the pavement cracked the ground, and blood splattered. But Citry's expression hadn't changed one bit.
Eva was going pale. It felt like she was witnessing a nightmare.
Standing frozen, unable to intervene and not knowing what to do, I watched as Citry put a hand to her cheek and spoke with a troubled look.
"I suppose one example might have been in order, but I didn't expect all three of them to go at it..."
"I... I was joking. Just a joke."
Yes, a joke. Sure, come along. All I had to do was endure. I should have been the one to endure.
Citry sighed in relief, then turned to look at the battered Haiiro.
"Eh...? What, it was just a joke? That's a relief... Actually, their discipline isn't complete yet. I'll try to reason with them as much as possible, so please bear with them if they're a bit noisy."
"Mm-hmm, sure..."
Was this really going to be okay?
Watching Citry wedged between the two of them, serious doubts arose, but I shook them off and decided to forget about it.
Worrying about it wouldn't change anything for me.
"Don't apologize to me — apologize to Klye! With that attitude, you'd be better off not here!"
The sun had already set, but there were still people around. They were watching from a distance, but if this kept up, the knights might get called.
Listening to Citry's sharp rebuke from behind, I smiled at Eva.
"...It's going to be a fun, fun vacation."
"...Y-yes. ...Please enjoy yourself."
It seemed even Eva wasn't going to humor me on this one.
I wanted to go home.
Just as my spirit was about to break, noisy voices reached my ears.
"No way! Please, Big Sis! I can't show my face to Mastaa like this!"
"Shut it! I told you to come! Don't mope forever — Tinno's a weakling and Klye knows that perfectly well! I told you it's fine, didn't I?!"
Watching Liliz drag along the screaming Tinno, I silently climbed into the carriage, hugged my knees, and pretended I hadn't seen anything.
I wanted to go home...
§ § § Something had to be done to turn things around. The "Thunder Dragon of the Mist's" standing in Zebuldia was declining by the day.
Under normal circumstances, this would have been unthinkable. A Level 7 dragon-slayer. That title could just as well be rephrased as "hero."
In truth, Arnold and his party had reigned as the top hunters in their homeland of Nebulnes.
All of their failures stemmed from the high caliber of hunters in this imperial capital.
They'd expected the high levels, but they'd thought they could at least reach a certain threshold — that they could be counted among the strongest hunters in the capital.
A high-level hunter with immense combat ability who could bring back treasures from the Treasure Hall was the kind of asset a nation would desperately want. Being recruited by nobility was entirely plausible at Level 7.
But as things stood, Arnold's position was precarious.
They'd gotten into a quarrel with the "Mourning Specter" as soon as they entered the country, and then proceeded to clash with the "Magic Wand." This had been witnessed by numerous hunters and citizens alike.
No one would take up with a hunter who only caused trouble. If high-level hunters were scarce, it might be different, but this country had no shortage of hunters whose levels exceeded Arnold's.
But the biggest problem of all was that Arnold and his party had been unable to demonstrate their strength in any way.
For hunters, "power" was the most important factor. A hunter who caused nothing but trouble was bad enough, but a hunter without strength was considered worthless.
The situation had been unfavorable. There had been a disparity in combat power. None of that served as an excuse.
To completely reverse their current standing, they needed an achievement that would make people think, "So the Thunder Dragon of the Mist truly does possess power on par with a Level 7." It had to be a demonstration of their current ability — not something from the past. They had to prove their strength no matter what.
Otherwise, they'd be looked down upon not only by higher-ranked hunters and the Explorer's Guild, but also by lower-ranked hunters and ordinary citizens. Even resorting to force had its limits.
The quickest method was to deal a crushing blow to the "Mourning Specter," the very group that had been the catalyst for the Thunder Dragon of the Mist's decline.
The Thunder Dragon of the Mist versus the Mourning Specter. The gap in combat power between their parties was clear. Even just comparing average member levels, Arnold's party was significantly inferior to the Mourning Specter.
But that was fine. They didn't need to win. All they had to do was issue a challenge and demonstrate their valor.
That alone would prove that the Thunder Dragon of the Mist wasn't a coward. The fact that there was a clear disparity in their respective strength would actually work in their favor.
And Arnold had the confidence to do exactly that. Even if there was a gap in party combat power, when it came to Arnold's individual ability alone, he was confident he could hold his own against the Mourning Specter's members.
He would take down one or two of them. And if those opponents happened to be the Thousand Transformations, all the better.
He would make the name of the Thunder Dragon of the Mist — the name of the Mighty Thunder Flash — ring throughout the imperial capital.
At the inn's training ground, Arnold was furiously swinging his beloved sword as if to wash away the day's humiliation when one of his companions came running up.
"Arnold, it's terrible! I overheard some of the 'Footprint' crowd talking — the 'Thousand Transformations' is leaving the capital today. Something about a vacation, and there's no telling when they'll be back."
They'd humiliated him like that during the day, and now they were going on vacation?!
For an instant, his blood rushed to his head, but he held himself in check, letting out only a rough breath, and gave a curt order.
"...We'll give chase. Prepare to move out."