Shuumatsu Nani Shitemasuka? Mou Ichido Dake, Aemasuka? Volume 2 Chapter 2 Part3

Recently, the wails of children have been heard coming from within the forests on the outskirts of Lyell.

Even if one tried their best to ignore them, the screams wouldn't stop. However, even if one entered the forest and searched, the aforementioned children were nowhere to be found.

"The cries are far away from here, so they aren't doing any harm. But no matter how you look at it, it's creepy… or so I hear."

His explanation finished, the Armado serving as the leader of the Winged Guard's 5th Division swept his gaze across the group gathered in the room. "How does it sound?"

"Hmm…" The girl with bright green hair - Tiat - murmured thoughtfully. "What do you guys think?" she asked.

Panival nodded, her long purple hair fluttering. "Judging by the situation, we can probably consider it a high possibility."

"We need to hurry and go find out," Lakish added, her expression worried. "It's fine if n.o.body's there, but on the chance someone is, I want to meet them."

"Yep!" Collon bounced in excitement, her arms raised high. "It'll be the Great Capture Mission!"

"…Now hold on." Standing a small distance away from the four girls, Feodor hesitantly held up his hand. "I can't help but feel somehow left out here. Did you four understand something from that explanation that I didn't?"

Tiat sighed, exasperation written on her face for all to see. He'd been waiting for a reaction like that; from the start, he wasn't expecting the slightest bit of friendly treatment from her. On the other hand, Collon burst out in unreserved laughter and Panival also chuckled as she patted him on the back cheerfully.

"Oh, I forgot!"

"Sorry, I felt like you were family already."

The treatment from those two had also been within his expectations. Lakish apologized as well, looking remorseful as she started to explain. "Um, you see, the thing is… inside the forest, there might be someone who's the same race as us."

This, too, had been what he'd expected - or rather, hoped for. Out of the four peculiar girls, Lakish was the only one with proper people skills. She cleaned up after the messes the other three made, and Feodor had grown to see her as the diligent communicator of the group.

Now then, regarding the details of the problem… "Same race?"

"Y-Yes, Leprechauns."

He thought for a bit. "Sorry, I don't think I understand. What exactly do you mean?"

"Our younger sister might've been born, so we want to go meet her soon." That explanation just gave Feodor even more to think about.

…Yeah. I don't get it at all.

"I see, I see… so it's like that, is it?" The master of the room, the 5th Division's leader who had been silent up to this point, nodded his carapace-armored head. "Normally, a certain sorcerer specialized in these things would arbitrarily arrive, arbitrarily investigate, and arbitrarily capture the target. This time, however, it'll be up to you guys."

His gaze landed on the girls, who nodded together.

"Yes, leaving it up to you four should be fine." The First Officer nodded again. "Okay, Fourth Officer Jessman, I'll entrust the responsibility of overseer to you. If a new Leprechaun is found, immediately secure it and bring it back."

I see, so that's how it's going to be.

Foedor might not understand what to do, but he was still nominally the supervisor of the four girls. If there was a task they needed to perform, it'd be given in the form of an order for him to pa.s.s down.

"Understood." On the inside, he was growing sick of it, but of course he didn't let that show. As always, he buried his resentment on the other side of his carefully fabricated expression. "I, Fourth Officer Feodor Jessman, will now begin the task of overseeing the situation."

Roughly three hours later, Feodor was sitting on a stump near the forest's outer perimeter. Said forest was on a slightly elevated section of the island, high enough to look down upon a portion of Lyell. Only the four fairies had gone off into the deepest parts of the forest, leaving Feodor behind to send bored yawns towards the sky.

The descriptions of fairies in fairy tales often said, "Only children who are pure of heart may glimpse them." More than mere hearsay, it appeared that was an unique characteristic of fairies. Although it defied all reason, it was apparently difficult for unformed Leprechauns to come into being near anyone except innocent children or other fairies.

"U-Um, not that we're saying your heart is tainted or anything, of course!" a fl.u.s.tered Lakish had spluttered, making Tiat burst out in raucous laughter. "This is just in case, so please don't take it the wrong way!"

Feodor was well aware of the filth within his heart, and at any rate didn't have a solid reason to insist on partic.i.p.ating. He was supposed to be supervising them and not leave them out of his sight, but all things considered, that was just a formality. And so, he was now waiting outside of the forest for them to return.

Sitting in one place and immersed in his thoughts, Feodor was surprised to find it wasn't a bad chance of pace. There's actually a lot to think about, huh…

The daily duties of the Winged Guard in the three months leading up to the decisive battle. The aftereffects of the Croyance incident, which still felt recent. Whether or not to take action against the increasing numbers of suspicious individuals in Lyell, not as an officer of the Winged Guard, but as Feodor Jessman. And of course, he couldn't forget to check the Candy Shoppe on West Street for their new seasonal treats.

Now then, on to planning.

Feodor Jessman had a goal.

Even if it meant throwing away everything else, he had to seize his dream. For five years he had devoted everything towards that purpose: entering the Winged Guard, playing the role of a model soldier, climbing the ladder of promotions.

Meeting the fairies.

Although learning about the Winged Guard's so-called secret weapons had been purely accidental, it was still a necessary step towards his objective. It might be called a stroke of good fortune, greatly advancing his plans to the point where he could move on to the next stage.

The next stage… in other words, taking control of those secret weapons, and if that wasn't possible, discovering a weakness to reduce their effectiveness.

I've still got time… but I can't let myself relax for too long.

Feodor looked upwards to try and calm the burgeoning impatience in his heart. A white bird of unidentified species flew across his view of the pure-blue sky.

"…Feeling hungry." The mumbled words were out of his mouth before he realized how empty his stomach felt. He went through his pockets, but didn't have anything fit to put in his mouth. Normally he'd have a hard candy or two on hand to eat, but he'd forgotten to restock his supply today.

Next, Feodor tried his bag and found a single apple. "I guess it'll do," he grumped; a sweet candy would've changed his mood more, but beggars couldn't be choosers. Just be glad you have something you can eat, Feodor admonished himself as he took a folding knife out of his pocket and began peeling the apple. He'd become more or less accustomed to handling knives; the narrow strip of red skin hanging off the fruit quickly lengthened.

A bush near him began rustling. "Hmm?" Feodor glanced in its direction, thinking it was only a rabbit or some other small woodland creature.

A small child - seemingly lacking fangs, horns, wings, and scales, something that could be called Markless - poked their face out of the shadows of the bush, staring intently at Feodor's hands.

He froze as the child tilted its head. A strange silence pa.s.sed for some time as, most likely, the child struggled between its urges of caution and curiosity. Ultimately, the latter won out. The bush rustled once more as the child stood up on its short, stumpy legs and earnestly waddled its way towards Feodor, all the while keeping its eyes focused on the apple peel dangling from his hands.

Its untidy hair was bright and reddish-brown. If one judged its age by using Imps as a reference point, it would be around two years old - though of course different races had different lifespans and such estimations held no real meaning. The child was naked, its whole body exposed to the environment. Feodor would've expected it to be covered with cuts, appearing that way in the middle of a forest, but it didn't appear to have any. He hesitated, then quickly verified its gender. It was a girl.

"Uwaa…" As the apple peel in his hands swayed, the toddler's eyes also swayed, as if following it.

This is definitely - probably - what they're looking for.

"…There's no way there's a house around here with a lost child or something, right? What a terrible punchline that would be…" Feodor fell silent, not sure who he was talking to. Naturally, no sort of reply came.

The girl was still intently staring. Looking closely at her left nothing to doubt. He vaguely wondered where that story about how only pure-hearted children would be able to see fairies had gone to.

"Sorry," he said at last, "but I'm not giving this to you. It's my snack."

The girl raised her head to look Feodor in the eyes. She blinked once, as if to say "Huh?"

For a child yet to develop reasoning, there wasn't much difference between the whispers of the wind, the murmurs of a stream, or the sour grumblings of a man. I wonder what that weird noise was - simple curiosity directed their attention in the direction of such sounds.

…I really am bad at dealing with kids, aren't I?

Admitting such a thing was difficult for descendents of Imps, beings who relied on surface-level techniques and experience to function in society, but Feodor had to be honest with himself.

A child's interests ran on extremes. In the world of a child, nothing existed beyond whatever they might like or not like, and establishing an untiring moderate relationship that satisfied both sides of the equation was impossible.

For the time being, he might be able to fake an artificial smile, and could put her in a good mood. But if he succeeded, she would inevitably become attached to him and start following him around. If that happened… he felt irritated just thinking about it.

"Go back into the forest," he said as coldly as he could. "Your nice older sisters are searching for you. Go back and let yourself be found."

"Uweh?"

No reaction. The girl's eyes soon returned to the apple peel, her round pupils swaying left and right as it blew in the end.

Feodor's smiling face twitched, then he undid it and sighed heavily. A fiendish liar's greatest weapon was rendered ineffective against someone indifferent to words. Now what am I to do…?

Grumbling to n.o.body in particular, he resumed peeling his apple. As the peel grew longer and longer, the child's attention became increasingly fixed upon it.

"I'm not giving it to you," he said frostily. The apple rind fell to the ground with a plop, the last of the peeling finished. "Dammit, where are those four even searching?"

She's right here. The new one was right here.

As he kept on complaining quietly, a small hand grabbed onto his uniform-clad leg. The young girl was trying to clamber up onto his knee. Her grasp felt strong but gentle, and her high body heat radiated through the cloth.

It would be so easy to shake her off, but if he did, the child might be hurt. Feodor hesitated, and the girl seized the opportunity to finish climbing onto his knee. She happily stretched out her short arms towards his apple-

"Hey, stop that!" Her extended hand fruitlessly swung through the air as Feodor bent backwards, raising the apple and knife in his hands skywards. "Knock it off, that's dangerous! Stop moving around and get off me!"

The girl didn't listen to his objections. She cried out unhappily, one hand grasping onto Feodor's chest as the other eagerly reached up. Again and again it didn't cross the distance; again and again she refused to give up, whimpering all the while.

"Ahh… stop, dammit! I'm not giving it to you, so quit it already!" Feodor said once more, repeating the words that'd already failed to reach the girl, feeling as if he was talking to himself.

"We're back."

"Sorry to keep you waiting!"

Feodor heard Tiat's cold voice coming from behind him, followed by Lakish's fl.u.s.tered tones. He turned slowly, with dull movements reminiscent of a rusted gear. The girl lost her balance as he moved, almost falling off his knee before she clung on to his neck.

Standing at the forest's border was the owners of the voices he'd heard, along with their companions. And…

Huh?

In Lakish's arms was a sleeping girl swaddled in a blanket. She seemed to be about two years old, and her hair was sky blue.

"…It seems that something odd has occurred," Feodor could only remark.

"That girl…" Tiat squinted. "Is she… yours?" she asked awkwardly. True to form, it seemed like she'd found herself confused by the strange situation, and decided to ask a ridiculously out-of-place question that completely failed to reach the issue at hand.

"…Do I look that old?" Feodor answered her out-of-place question with an out-of-place answer. With both of his arms still raised and the naked toddler hanging from his neck, he could only shake his head horizontally. The girl looked up at him, her crimson eyes flickering as if asking a question.

Of course, the blue-haired girl the four had brought from the forest was a recently-born fairy. That meant the red-haired girl that'd been dangling from his neck was the same.

One occurance birthing two fairies wasn't something that could be considered common, but neither was it entirely unheard-of. Two lives were produced through the process where one would normally be born. Feodor figured it to be similar to other races giving birth to twins.

"Lantolq and Noft were born the same way," Tiat said. "But I guess you didn't know that, huh?"

Naturally. It was the first he'd ever heard either name. "There's some problem when it happens, right? It's… a story you hear often, where one person's strength is split between two when they're born, so both babies are frail, or something like that?"

"Ah, it's fine," Tiat replied airily. "There might be an effect like that, but it won't be enough for us to see any kind of individual difference."

Feodor looked back at Collon and Panival, who were carrying the two sleeping children on their backs. Lakish trailed a bit behind them, smiling gently.

"Before fairies are 'born' they don't have physical bodies and don't eat or sleep," Tiat said. "Sleeping like that is proof that they have a firm grasp on their bodies as Leprechauns. You don't need to worry about them."

It's not like I was worried or anything. I just had a small - miniscule - interest. That's all. What I'm actually concerned about is… something else.

"Those two… will they become like you guys before long?"

"Huh?"

"Suicidal girls swinging around big swords?"

"Ahh. That's a mean way to put it, you know." Tiat laughed, not appearing hurt at all.

He never did get an answer.