Shirude-tei was as packed as ever today.
Day after day, Agaro had been racking up wins in unrestricted drinking contests, his streak unbroken.
The onlookers swelled by the day, and the owner, Burns, was seriously considering expanding the establishment.
Meanwhile, at a table removed from the noise, four men sat together.
Two of them in particular had the sort of look that made even the staff reluctant to approach.
"Hmm. I am the victor, naturally."
One of them—a man in a tailcoat with an entire fish, head to tail, perched atop his head.
"Marine Lord" Gimnema Sylvester.
"Hey, you, you! You really don't get the rules, do ya? I won, see!"
Another—a man with a tremendous afro—slammed his card on the table.
He wore outrageous sunglasses shaped like a golden moon and silver star.
Sallow-skinned, tall.
He had on a weird silvery jacket—broad-shouldered, but barely reaching half the torso.
His white shirt bore the words "GRAND CHAMP" in sloppy black lettering.
Cross-belted pants, otherwise ordinary enough, paired with old sandals.
"Dokkha"—Dokkha.
"Oh my. How embarrassing. The winner was, as it happens, Saao-in."
"Huh? Me?"
The handsome young man in a blue willow-patterned kimono inclined his head.
Cherry-blossom pink hair that fell long, with eyes that gave an impression of fragility. Fine-featured, slender-faced.
A single white horn grew from his head—one only—and it was as long as his hair.
From a distance, he could almost pass for a woman. But he was a man.
There was something indescribably alluring about him. But he was a man.
"Drifting Mighty"—Kessai.
"No way, none of you won. You lot. You don't know a thing about Oomoto's rules."
A blond man who looked every bit the wandering minstrel let out a sigh.
His golden hair fell in gentle waves around a refined, handsome face.
Long ears marked him unmistakably as an elf.
A vivid red cloak, an outrageously decorated wide-brimmed hat covered in garish flowers, a red shirt. White pants. Gold shoes—every bit as outlandish an outfit as Dokkha's.
A battered old lute leaned against his chair.
In olden days, it was called a Lanzknecht.
Modern bards no longer dressed like traveling showmen.
But he held to this look.
"The Wandering Bard"—Saao-in.
Four Class-1 delvers gathered at a single table.
"All right, let's put the cards aside and get to the real topic."
Dokkha placed a single sheet of paper on the table.
"This year has been nothing but exceptions," Gimnema said, looking it over.
"Not just the location, either—this truly did make me laugh," Kessai said, grinning. Saao-in offered a wry smile.
"I didn't even know what to say. Impenetrable. And four of them at that... impossible. Listen—it's because they're impossible that they're Impenetrable. Countless men of every status and power challenged them. But not one could even set foot inside. Hence, Impenetrable. And now, Attendant selection, and half of them at that... this is beyond extraordinary. Nothing like this has ever happened."
"Hey, hey, calm down. Saao-in. Who is this Wof person, anyway?"
"The Witch's disciple."
"That Witch's... Whoa, no way, for real?!"
"Oh my. I'd heard the rumors."
"A man, apparently. But what sort of person, I wonder?"
"Hmm. I have actually met them, you know."
Gimnema puffed up proudly.
"Hey, really?"
"That's unexpected. What were they like?"
"They saved me from drowning in a river. A benefactor."
"So a good person, then?"
"Mmm. They were a fine person."
"So that's who can breach an Impenetrable fortress, is it?"
"But just that alone wouldn't be enough to bring them down, would it?"
Dokkha's words silenced the other three.
"Well, either way. One more week and we'll meet them."
"I'm looking forward to seeing what they're like."
"I've already met them, you know."
"Hey, who even is this Wof? Hey!"
And unbeknownst to anyone, Wof kept sneezing, over and over.
A gleaming blade. The foolish ones, split in two.
"Why must lives be scattered so? I cannot comprehend this, truly."
She parted her pale pink lips in distaste.
Jet-black hair gathered together with a single white cloth. Her eyes were entirely concealed beneath a white cloth.
Long, pointed ears and a cool, striking beauty on full display.
She wore white hakama—the mark of the Yamaudo—over light armor, and carried a great black hat on her back.
Two swords hung at her hip. The primary blade, however, was already in her hand.
The Yamaudo people were scattered across the world.
This country had its own village, and she hailed from it.
Those who harbored dishonorable intentions and attempted to act on them were, without exception, split in two.
In other words—one cut, two halves.
"One-Slash" Kaede Akima. One of the Impenetrable.
She hadn't become Impenetrable by choice, of course. Her standards for romance were simply far too strict, and she remained single to this day.
"This is not even worth practicing on."
She murmured with a sigh, and a floating pink sphere drew near.
The sphere had rings like a planet, with countless smaller orbs drifting around it.
Kaede Akima glanced at it and asked:
"What business have you with me?"
"Pea... pea-pea——pea... ——pea-pea... ——pea............poh"
With each sound, the pink sphere's core flickered between red and blue.
"Hmm. Hmph. As always, I have no idea."
"Pea... pea... pea-pea... ——poh"
The countless orbs touched the corpses, and they vanished.
"You're disposing of them for me?"
"Pea-pea... ——poh"
One by one, the bisected corpses disappeared.
Kaede Akima watched the efficient work with quiet admiration.
And she wondered: what on earth was this pink sphere?
It was a Class-1 delver just like her, but was it even, at minimum, a living thing?
"Pea-pea... ——pea... pea-pea... pea... ——poh"
The only thing she knew was its name.
Afterlife Vision System ver.β
And even how she knew that name was unclear. In other words—she knew nothing at all.
Once all the corpses were cleared, the Afterlife Vision System ver.β departed.
With the cold, mechanical air of one who'd finished taking out the trash.
Perhaps that was exactly what it was. Perhaps not.
No one would ever know its true intent.
"It properly maintains its record as a Class-1 even now, so I suppose its nature remains a mystery."
She gave a faint, wry smile, flicked the blood from her blade, clicked the scabbard's mouth, and sheathed her sword.
A presence drew near. She turned and smiled softly.
A large blue dog sat there, wearing a black collar and carrying a greatsword on its back.
"Are you sending your disciple to search for me again? Finding you is certainly fine training, but doing so in an unfamiliar city strikes me as ill-advised, truly."
"............"
"It seems you were drawn by the scent of blood—what a shame. It's all cleaned up already."
"........"
"Or perhaps you mean to fight me to the death? The Yamaudo spirit means seeking death when one finds it."
"……"
"—That was a joke. If we must fight here, an... exhibition match would be preferable."
"........"
The blue dog turned and walked away, looking thoroughly bored.
Kaede Akima walked alongside it, gently stroking the dog's back.
The dog didn't mind. And so—with that—Kaede Akima settled onto the dog's back.
She sat primly atop the greatsword's scabbard, legs together. The dog didn't care in the least.
But it was hard to miss, and Celest spotted them before long.
Watching it all was a thoroughly unremarkable man.
He immediately transformed into a woman and walked away.
"Thousand Faces"—a being with a thousand faces.