Chapter 36: True Intention (1)
“Yaaawnnn—”
The fall of Sinain Village, entry into the Silver Blades, witch hunter training, the final test and the assault of a powerful witch, the chimera and distortion point, and even the witch’s nest.
Since stepping into the world, Nike had lived through a turbulent time.
The last few months had been far more eventful than the boring fifteen years of his life before.
After surviving that busy stretch, Nike finally settled here, and after extracting information from Sestria’s nest, the incidents were wrapped up. The disorder in the Order had at last settled into stability.
Now that they knew who the true enemy was, Morgana was leading preparations for a counterattack.
That was a top secret matter and needed more time, so Nike had been given a small window of rest.
Before living fully as a hunter, Nike and his peers were enjoying what was essentially their final respite.
“Nike. You’re lying around again today.”
“Lou Gehrig? Meat?”
“All you ever say to me is meat. Do you think my name is Meat…?”
Lou Gehrig came to Nike’s quarters and sat down beside him. The room was a complete mess.
‘He never buys anything at all.’
Normally a hunter would leave books, weapons, personal items, or food in their quarters so they could rest comfortably after a mission.
Nike, indifferent to such trappings of human civilization, had nothing in his room. It looked just as it had when first assigned.
Knock knock.
Hestia seemed like she just got back from training and fresh from a wash, as her platinum hair was damp and fragrant. She opened the door to Nike’s room.
“…Hello.”
“Hestia. Hi.”
Holding something in her hands, Hestia peeked her head in and spoke softly. Lou Gehrig returned the greeting.
She didn’t even gaze at Lou Gehri and only nodded in response, and sat across from Nike.
Then, glancing around the room, she naturally began to clean up the mess.
“…Nike. Are you an animal?”
“Hah?”
Hestia’s blank face twisted in annoyance.
She had pointed it out many times, but Nike never cleaned his room. He had lived his whole life that way and saw no problem in it.
“I am human!”
“…Humans clean their own rooms.”
“Hestia. You’re annoying.”
“…Nike. You’re an animal.”
Grumbling, Nike finally bent to pick up trash, pushed back by Hestia’s unyielding insistence.
‘They’re an amusing pair.’
Lou Gehrig quietly observed the two.
“…If you’re just going to stare, get out.”
The sparks of her fury jumped to him without warning.
Lou Gehrig froze like a gazelle before a lioness.
He hadn’t even been stared at or called by name, but his body reacted automatically.
“Uh, uhm, r-right!”
Flustered, he started helping clean the room. As he picked up trash, a question came to him.
“B-but why are you cleaning Nike’s room?”
It was a natural thought. At his question, Hestia paused then glared at him with her pale blue eyes.
“…Because Nike is a precious being.”
After a moment’s hesitation, she said it. It felt strange, but Lou Gehrig could only nod at her words.
“…Y-Yeah, right.”
Nike had saved his life during training, and in the recent assault he had protected the Order. Even if he acted like a wild child, everyone liked him.
‘I guess cleaning his room is the least we could do for him…’
To refuse might even invite criticism.
Feeling he should not complain, Lou Gehrig quietly helped clean, even carrying out the trash himself.
When the room was finally tidy, the three sat down again.
Hestia placed what she had brought on the table and unwrapped it.
“What’s that?”
“…What do you think?”
“Meat?”
“…No.”
Was meat all he ever thought of? Hestia gave a wry smile, then glanced at Lou Gehrig as if to have him guess.
“Me? Um… well.”
She was cold to him and rarely spoke with him. She may have been awkward to deal with, but she was not a bad companion.
Though of course, it was just always so hard to read her thoughts.
“No idea at all.”
Lou Gehrig scratched the back of his head with an awkward laugh. He couldn’t guess.
Given her habit of casually saying things like, “Ahaha— Lou Gehrig, if you’re going to grind your teeth every night, just die instead for me.” it wouldn’t be strange if the package contained a rat carcass.
But when Nike opened it,
“Oh! Rings!”
“Rings?”
“…They are matching rings for comrades. Since no one else thought of it, I bought them.”
Crunch! Lou Gehrig bit his tongue, ashamed of his ugly suspicions.
“W-Woah haha! H-Hestia, when did you think of this…”
“…Lou Gehrig. Your expression is weird.”
“No? What do you mean? Nope, not at all.”
“…What do you keep saying no?”
“Huh? Uhhm? I meant… um…”
She stared coldly, then placed two rings in front of him.
“You get two.”
“Huh, why… oh.”
Lou Gehrig fell silent, heart sinking as he read the engraving.
[Order of the Silver Blades, Class 696, Ginter Osborne]
[Order of the Silver Blades, Class 696, Lou Gehrig Osborne]
“…”
“…Keep them well.”
‘I’m a trash human being. Should I just die?’
Lou Gehrig pressed his lips inward, holding back tears of shame.
“…Thanks.”
“Mhm.”
Hestia too slipped on her own silver ring engraved with her name.
Nike had to be told what a ring was and what it meant.
“Oh! Treasure! It’s precious, right?”
“…Yes.”
“Hestia, you’re the best! Let’s sell it later for meat!”
“…If you sell it, Nike, you’ll die.”
“Joke...”
Hestia smirked. Lou Gehrig hid his mouth as he smiled. Everyone was pleased.
The surprise gift was a complete success.
“…I also brought snacks. Two portions for Nike.”
“Serve your lord 10 portions!”
“…Nike. You don’t want to eat?”
“S-Sorry.”
“…Pfft.”
Hestia’s laughter spilled out softly. Lou Gehrig laughed awkwardly with her, and Nike scratched his head as he accepted the snacks.
Nike’s room was filled with cheerful noise.
In the desolate Order of the Silver Blades, such laughter was rare.
Hunters were people who had lost their smiles, and the city was cold.
Only Nike’s room was warm. Outside, early autumn wind blew, the sky was clear, and the sunlight was dazzling.
It was a September afternoon that felt like it would last forever.
* * *
The quiet ones carried on with trivial chatter. As sunset stained the central tower where the Captain stayed, Lou Gehrig finally broached the avoided subject, being tired after three hours of pointless talk.
He purposely avoided it, but now was the time to talk about it.
“…So, Hestia, what mission are you on?”
Missions.
For those who had become official hunters, an endless hell of missions awaited.
Their vow to hunt witches meant the work would never end unless every witch was dead or they themselves were.
Even close comrades had to part and pursue separate duties.
Parting loomed.
They felt attachment as peers, but distance was inevitable.
There were too many witches and monsters, and at that very moment others were dying for the same reason.
At his question, Hestia’s face grew colder, as if the stress she had held back burst forth.
The air froze.
Lou Gehrig worried he had made a mistake.
A heavy silence stretched until Hestia finally spoke.
“…My mission is a secret. But I leave the day after tomorrow with my master.”
It was sooner than expected. Lou Gehrig’s eyes widened, and Nike turned his head toward her.
“I-I see. Haha. That’s quick.”
“Hestia! Your first mission?”
“…Mhm.”
“Congratulations!”
“…Thanks. What about you, Nike?”
“The vice boss abandoned me!”
“Ahaha. Understandable.”
Though she gave a bitter chuckle, Hestia’s eyes showed she didn’t want to leave. Despite her cold exterior, she had grown attached to her peers.
After she finished, Lou Gehrig spoke with difficulty.
“I-I’ve been… assigned a new master. After some practice together… I’ll leave for Winster Province. It’s a monster subjugation expedition.”
“…You’re going far.”
“Lou Gehrig, you’ve grown well!”
Hestia nodded with her gentle eyes.
Nike congratulated his friend heartily again.
It should have been good news, yet no one felt happy.
The games were over. They were about to step into battlefields where lives were risked.
New recruits often died on their first missions.
This might be their last time together.
The emptiness in Hestia’s pupils reflected the hollow feeling that swept over them. Lou Gehrig touched the ring engraved with his brother’s name and made a pained face.
Only Nike, with his usual indifference, spoke. ,
“Next time we meet, let’s eat meat! Lou Gehrig’s buying!”
Nike naturally assumed there would be a next time.
But even those simple words gave strength.
“W-W-Why me?!”
“Because you’re the weakest!”
“…Pfft. That was fairly logical, Nike.”
“I’m a genius.”
“…F-Fine. I’ll buy it. Whatever!”
* * *
Two days later.
— Nike. Don’t die.
— You too, Lou Gehrig. You still owe us a meal.
Hestia left them with a fragile smile.
Lou Gehrig wept beside Nike, then departed Vilnogos with his new master as well.
The farewells left Nike painfully empty.
He wished he could vent by hunting monsters or witches, but freedom was not granted to him easily.
As the number one person of interest in Vilnogos, it was only natural.
Thus he spent idle days, with no promise of change, until—
“Nike? Come. The Captain is calling you.”
“Hah?”
Rowen, who was usually too busy to see him, summoned Nike.
Even with her schedule full, Rowen visited Nike every three days to check on him.
She was the only one who did, always persuading Nike when he complained about wanting to go out.
“Looks like you’re finally getting a mission. The chaos has settled and the counterattack plan is ready.”
Rowen’s dark circles showed she was part of the planning.
Helping Rowen up the stairs, Nike asked,
“Now I can kill witches?”
“Hmm… this time, you’ll be facing the Golden Dawn, probably?”
“Tch.”
Nike pouted as if unimpressed. Rowen chuckled and warned him.
“Trust me when I say this, those fanatics are more revolting than most witches.”
“…Hm.”
“Even the master speaks of the Golden Dawn with dread.”
“The boss?”
“Yeah.”
How tough were they, if even Vigo spoke that way?
Boredom lifted and Nike’s curiosity stirred again.
“Behave yourself. Now go inside.”
He entered the Captain’s chamber.
The cold, ancient air pierced Nike’s nose.
The once Witch of Regret.
Now Captain of the Silver Blades.
Morgana stood like a noble statue in the center, exuding mystery and grace.
[It has been a while, Nike.]
A voice as beautiful as her form intruded into his mind without warning.
“Ugh— Kgh.”
The telepathy was as unpleasant as ever. As Nike scowled,
[Ohoho…]
Morgana let out a sultry, chilling laugh.
It was a witch’s laugh, one she had never shared with anyone in the Order.
“I’ll kill you!”
[Don’t kill me just yet, Nike. Now, come closer…]
She brushed aside his words easily, soothing him as if handling a child.
Annoyed, Nike stepped forward. A hooded figure pulled back a black cloth covering something.
“…”
Nike frowned.
It was a familiar face. A corpse.
[You recognize her, I imagine. It’s the first-rank witch you captured.]
It was the witch known as the Ascending Star, once acquainted with Hestia. Why was she showing him this body?
Morgana, with the eerie rhetoric of a witch, spoke as if it were only natural.
[Now—consume it. That witch’s heart.]