"ROOOAAARRR!! Don't look down on me, Klye Andriiiiiich!!"
From far away, Arnold's roar overlapped with rumbling and screams. Arnold and the others were fighting the Barrel Thieves who had been attacked by the Thunder Dragon of the Mist.
He seemed to have lost his greatsword, but apparently once you reached Level 7, being without a weapon was no real obstacle.
Anthem was also Level 7, and he was the kind of person who could fight just fine without a weapon, so perhaps that was simply what Level 7 meant.
But why did this keep happening when all we came here for was a vacation? Trapped in a siege inside a luxury inn with no idea what was going on, all I could do was nod along with a vacant smile.
Everything I did, everything I tried, seemed to backfire. And also — not that it matters — but could you please stop fighting while screaming my name?
"Klye-san, your tea is ready."
"Oh, thanks…"
Citry's demeanor was as calm as ever, and I let out a sigh of relief as I slurped down my tea.
Tino was looking over at me with a terrified expression, but there was nothing to be done even if I panicked.
I had been through countless life-or-death situations before, but there had never been anything I could do about them. You could call it resignation.
If I hadn't just gotten out of the hot spring, I'd be back in it right now.
"Mastaa… um… is it all right if I don't join the fight?"
"Hmm… if you want to fight, go ahead and join them?"
"!?"
What do you expect me to do? Look at me — see? I don't have a weapon, right? I'm clearly not dressed for battle, right?
…Well, Tino in her yukata wasn't exactly dressed for battle either. But even so, me in my usual outfit was far weaker than Tino in a yukata.
Tino shuddered once, then fell silent for a while. Eventually she spoke in a voice so faint it was about to vanish. Her eyes glistened.
"…Y-Yes, Mastaa. I want to fight."
"Y-You don't have to force yourself."
"…Please. Let me fight."
It was almost as if I were the one pushing her to say it…
Tino had already worked really hard. Arnold was here, so wasn't that enough?
Right — Citry was here. Why not have her go instead? She was an Alchemist, but back in the day she used to hang around with Luke and the others on the front lines, hurling potions everywhere. It wasn't like she couldn't fight.
When I turned to Citry, she smiled warmly as if she had read my mind.
She picked up the "Evolving Demon Mask" that had been sitting on the table and handed it to Tino, who was looking up at me with puppy-dog eyes, pressing it into her hands.
"Here you go, Tee-chan. Klye-san says go get 'em."
"…Huh?"
"Come on, put it on — you want to show off, right? Go for it!"
"Eh? Eh…? Mastaa…?"
I always think this, but that's not actually me saying that, is it?
I didn't mind Citry speaking for me, but the fact that Tino recognized those words as mine was a bit much. You're allowed to say no, you know…
With a wry smile, I took the mask from Tino's trembling hands.
And the moment my fingers touched the damp surface of the mask — Tino, who had been standing right in front of me, vanished without a trace.
There had been absolutely no warning. A moment ago, she had been gazing at me with desperate eyes. Now there wasn't even a shadow of her. Even Citry's eyes went wide.
Huh? What? What just happened?
While I stood there frozen, Citry let out a small sigh, picked something up from the tatami mat, and placed it in the palm of her hand.
With an unusually troubled expression, she said to me, who had no idea what was going on: "Klye-san, this is bad… Lucia-chan is in a panic. Look — Tee-chan is…"
"!?"
In the palm of Citry's hand, a tiny, adorable black frog was spinning around frantically, glancing in every direction.
§ § § Geoffroy's brain, already in a state of confusion from the suddenly appeared gray creature of unknown origin, had frozen completely at its appearance.
He couldn't understand the situation at all.
The wall created by his Treasure Weapon was three meters high. But "that thing" had its head peeking over the top of it.
Almost twice the size of Geoffroy — himself a large man by Hunter standards — it was truly enormous, clearly inhuman — a colossal figure.
The dull-gray helmet tilted slightly as it looked down at Geoffroy.
Was it alive? No — was it even a living creature? Or perhaps a Golem of some kind? He couldn't even tell that much.
With trembling hands, he picked up the axe he had dropped. Even a massive battleaxe looked like a twig compared to this giant.
"Hey! What the — what is that thing!? Why didn't we notice it approaching!?"
"S-Sorry, sir, but something that enormous —"
Should he run? Could he run? Was it all show? What was its purpose?
A whirlwind of thoughts churned through his mind.
Among Monsters, there were species of truly extreme size. Some exceeded three meters by a wide margin, and he had even hunted them before.
But the existence before him was far too alien.
It was not human. It was definitely not human. No — something like this should not be human.
The amount of Mana Material that such a massive body should emit was unbelievably sparse. But could that truly be called good news for Geoffroy?
The elite mercenaries, Hunters, and knights he had deceived and slaughtered one after another were now paralyzed with fear at the sight of this towering presence.
He swung his beloved axe in a wide arc and roared up at the head looming above.
"Wh-Who are you…!? What do you want!?"
"Well now… things are getting interesting."
Just then, something burst out from behind the giant figure.
A figure in a deep-crimson cloak that billowed in the wind, blocking out the sunlight as it soared through the air, before landing with one hand planted on the ground right in front of Geoffroy.
It was a figure wearing a deep hood. Far smaller than the giant, and carrying no weapon.
Without a word, the figure slowly raised its face.
Its features became clear. Geoffroy's subordinates gasped softly.
Beneath dark red hair. A grinning skull mask — with no openings for eyes or mouth — was looking their way.
He knew that mask. The grinning skull.
Every criminal who had settled in this country knew it — the sight of it alone was enough to make one tremble.
Before the figure even opened its mouth, a muffled voice came from behind the mask.
A voice slightly high for a man's, echoing through the silence.
"You don't know who we are — old man, that means you must be a total newcomer, huh?"
"That's not fair! Luke, that's exactly what I wanted to say!"
A pink-blonde woman, who at some point had taken a seat on the giant's shoulder, let out a shrill voice.
The instant he heard that voice, Geoffroy understood everything.
His head boiled over in an instant. With a roar of fury, he drove his axe into the ground.
Though the massive blade landed right beside him, the masked man before him didn't flinch in the slightest.
His gaze remained locked straight on Geoffroy.
"Damn it… a trap… was it…?"
"…"
Geoffroy had come from outside the country. He had looked into the Mourning Specter, who primarily operated in this nation, but not to any great depth.
He did know their numbers and role composition, however. Having captured two of their men, the only male member left should have been from the Thousand Transformations.
And now the woman above had called the man before him Luke.
"You… are you the Thousand Swords…!?"
He had been had. Trapped. He didn't know what the trick was, but those two had been bait. They had predicted the Barrel Thieves' escape route.
He raised his axe and took a step back.
This was Zebuldia's top-tier swordsman. A man so greedy for the truth of the blade that he had mastered every style and technique from every era and every land, and who had cut down countless renowned swordsmen — earning him the epithet of "Luke of the Thousand Swords."
His stance was positively riddled with openings, as though done deliberately. The two they had captured in the mountains had looked more composed than this.
But Geoffroy, who carried the Barrel Thieves on his back and had seen all manner of strong fighters, knew it was all a bluff.
Geoffroy was the larger man, but strength couldn't be measured by build alone.
Could he win? How many enemies were there?
No — there was no choice but to fight. The only path to survival was to fight. They had the advantage in numbers.
Was he being underestimated? Luke showed no sign of carrying a weapon.
Geoffroy was confident in his own combat ability. He might lose in a pure sword fight, but this wasn't a duel.
If all it took was a single downward swing — I'm faster!
Just as he was about to lunge, Luke raised his palm toward him and spoke in a low voice, sounding genuinely exasperated.
"Wait. Let's talk this out first."
"…What…?"
The unexpected words made him stop.
The members of the infamous Mourning Specter wanted to talk it out…?
Luke, without a trace of his usual joking manner, spoke in a serious voice.
"Listen carefully. Klye is always telling me that communication is important… to talk before you cut someone down. Annoying, but apparently that's what makes you cool. I'm aiming to be the coolest and strongest swordsman there is."
"What… are you saying?"
"You heard our goal just now, right? Our goal — is a vacation."
His eloquence was unimaginable for someone wearing a grinning skull mask, and Geoffroy couldn't help but stare wide-eyed.
Was this some kind of ruse…?
As Geoffroy wore a suspicious expression, Luke continued.
"We cleared the Treasure Hall, and when we marched triumphantly back to the Imperial Capital, that bastard Klye had gone off to a hot spring on vacation. Ditching his own Party to go on vacation — that's pretty unfair, right? So we rushed after him. Oh, here — look at this! I brought something good along too, check it out!"
Luke reached into his cloak. Geoffroy reflexively raised his axe, but all Luke produced was a dark-blue bundle.
He unfolded it proudly. It was made of thin vinyl and shaped like a donut.
What was it? What on earth was it?
Geoffroy and his subordinates both stared at it in confusion. Luke spoke in a serious voice.
"It's a floatie! Turns out that guy can't actually swim. So I thought I'd be nice and bring one along. There's a chance there might be deep water, or that you could get swallowed by a whirlpool. This time it was Thieves — or bandits? Anyway, it sounds like they were attacking the town, so there probably won't be any of that. But still, I think he'd be happy if I gave it to him."
What… was this guy saying?
Realizing that Geoffroy was dumbfounded, Luke irritably pressed his fingers to the forehead of his mask and sighed.
"Ah… damn. Communication is tough. What I'm trying to say is, basically, we don't have much time to waste on you guys. Lucia's been looking forward to the hot spring the whole way here, and Anthem — well, he just needs a big hot spring to soak in. Worst case, we can just dig one."
"Luke, you're taking too long! Klye-chan's idea of 'communication' probably doesn't mean all that!"
"Shut up! I'm almost done, so zip it!"
Geoffroy couldn't make sense of it. Not a single thing Luke said made sense. At the very least, it wasn't a conversation suited to the situation.
He glanced at his subordinates, but they were shaking their heads.
"…So you're saying you'll let us go?"
It had been an absurd conversation, but the man before him was undoubtedly formidable. And especially dangerous was the giant.
The Barrel Thieves' specialty was ambush. Going head-to-head against an unscathed opponent like this was far too risky.
As Geoffroy lowered his voice to confirm, Luke stood frozen for a moment, then casually blurted out: "No, old man… were you even listening to me? I'm going to cut you down. Of course I'm going to cut you down. It's not like I pick and choose. But old man, you only have two arms, right? I just cut down a swordsman with six arms the other day, so I'm truly sorry, but this is a vacation and all, so two arms feels like… well, you know. I'm looking for someone with eight arms for my next one."