“Chigau (It’s not me)! It’s not me!”
Jean, his face contorted in confusion, screamed this as he raised his dagger, then turned and slashed at his astonished companions.
“Jean!?”
“What are you doing!?”
“N-No, it’s not me, Slay! Cara!”
Cara stepped forward to shield Slay, whose arm had been slashed, but she couldn’t bring herself to point her weapon at Jean, who was spouting incomprehensible words.
“Move.”
I slipped in between them and slammed the palm of my right hand into Jean’s side.
“Guho!?”
Through the Magic Steel-lined glove, I felt the sensation of ribs cracking. Normally, that should have incapacitated him, but Jean, bent sideways in a bizarre posture, stood up and swung his dagger at me again.
“It’s not me! Stop attacking!”
“…”
Jean’s words and actions were clearly abnormal. Was he being controlled? But if so, I couldn’t understand the meaning of his words, ‘It’s not me.’
“This will hurt more than before… endure it.”
Analysis later. First, to neutralize him, I sheathed my knife and quietly took a stance.
“Please, it’s not like that!”
As Jean said that and thrust his dagger, I placed my hand on the flat of the Blade to deflect it, entangled my arm with his, and then shattered Jean’s bone with an upward knee strike from directly below.
“Gyaaaaah!”
He can still move…? I brought the leg I’d kicked up down onto Jean’s neck, slamming him to the ground. With a loud thud, Jean finally stopped moving.
“Ugh… gah.”
“Jean!!”
Cara rushed over to Jean, who was groaning and convulsing.
“You! You didn’t have to go this far! Collette! Heal him, quickly!”
“Y-Yes!”
“Wait.”
I stopped Collette as she tried to approach and knelt before Jean, who was still crouched over.
“Jean, are you conscious?”
“You…!”
Cara snapped at me for starting an interrogation before treatment, but Jean, whom she was protecting, seemed to possess reason but not sanity.
“I’m sorry, Cara, please stop. I never made such a ‘promise’…”
“…Jean.”
“…’Promise’?”
As I muttered back the strange word, out of place in this situation, Slay, clutching his injured arm with one hand, stepped in protectively in front of Jean.
“Sorry. Jean seems confused. We want to get him treated first, so could you let it go for today?”
“…”
At that moment, I intuitively felt that ‘questioning them further would be useless.’
They seemed surprised by what Jean had done, but they didn’t appear to think of it as ‘wrong.’ I couldn’t tell if this stemmed from their personalities or if they were becoming strange like Jean. Even if I wanted to restrain them, relying on this town for a dispute between adventurers would likely be futile.
For now, I’ll let them be and observe…
Is there something to Jean’s word, ‘promise’? I had thought the town’s abnormality was due to Miasma and undead, but I’m starting to feel that very idea might be wrong.
“…For now, why don’t you take him to a clinic?”
“Sorry, we’ll do that.”
When I said that, Slay helped Jean, who was still muttering some ‘excuse,’ to his feet.
“I’ll take a room at an inn near the Adventurers Guild.”
“Ah, understood.”
When I called out to their backs, only Slay’s voice replied. Cara, who was also supporting Jean, glared at me, but behind them, Collette, her face pale, was looking at me as if trying to convey something.
After parting with them, I headed towards the cemetery where the Orc zombie was said to have appeared, observing the town as I went. Villagers were supposed to be going missing in this town, but surprisingly, the atmosphere among the residents wasn’t particularly dark.
Some people wore anxious expressions, but when I passed by, their faces became blank, and they blended into the town’s scenery.
But that wasn’t particularly unusual. It’s common for rural towns to be cold towards outsiders. The town where the orphanage I grew up in was located was about the same size as this one, and they were very cold to the orphans, who were a burden to the town and its residents.
That’s why Collette and the others, who might also leave this town, are probably being shunned. A closed-off town… how does that relate to the word ‘promise’? How does it connect to the Miasma and the undead?
The cemetery was located outside the outer wall surrounding the town, behind the chapel. There were graves inside the walls too, but they probably ran out of space as the town continued for over a hundred years.
The outer cemetery was enclosed by a wooden fence, and there was one spot where the fence was broken, so I surmised that was where the Orc zombie had appeared.
There was certainly Miasma. Still, just as the Adventurers Guild receptionist had said, the Ostall family had apparently performed a purification, and there wasn’t enough dense Miasma left for corpses to reanimate.
“…Just as I thought.”
That’s precisely why I became convinced that a ‘devil’ was involved in this matter.
Normally, all creatures that become undead originally possess a Magic Stone. Skeletons have a Magic Stone within their skulls, and even incorporeal beings like evil spirits exist with a Magic Stone as their core.
The Orc zombie’s Magic Stone was indeed tainted with Miasma, but the amount of Miasma was clearly small.
Devils feed on Miasma, but in reality, they are spiritual life forms that use magical power as their life force, much like spirits.
In other words, isn’t it possible that both that Orc zombie and the bones manipulated by the devil were not true undead, but rather puppets created by magical power, controlled by a devil?
But that doesn’t explain Jean and the others’ behavior. However, now is not the time to find that answer. It should change depending on what she brings.
“…Aria-san.”
That night, she visited me at the inn I had taken near the Adventurers Guild.
“Alone?”
“…Yes.”
I invited Collette, who had come alone at night, into my room.
I had her sit on the only chair in the room, and as I sat on the bed, Collette, who had been looking around hesitantly, slowly began to speak.
“…When I said ‘the town is strange,’ I wasn’t just talking about the undead.”
The clear abnormalities were the Miasma and the undead, but she said she had felt a ‘sense of unease’ even before that.
It was a small sense of unease, one you wouldn’t notice unless told, but Collette, having noticed it, had grown increasingly anxious.
Several weeks ago, someone, somewhere, started talking about a ‘promise.’ No one ever clarified ‘with whom’ this promise was made, nor did they speak of its contents. But in such a closed-off region, they valued harmony with the original inhabitants and, above all, feared deviating from it. So, the days passed with no one touching upon its contents.
But one day, when adventurers who had been using that word went outside, a few of them returned splattered with blood. Collette, who among her companions still had contact with other adventurers, asked one of them about it, and he, with a bewildered face, said this:
‘It wasn’t me who made the “promise.”‘ —
After that, people started disappearing more frequently. All those who vanished were either outsiders or people who had lived in other towns.
At first, search parties formed by the guards looked for the missing people. Their families also sometimes submitted search requests to the Adventurers Guild, but after a while, no one spoke of it anymore. While that was happening, the Miasma incident occurred, and no one paid it any mind.
“When did Jean’s behavior become strange?”
“Today… yes. No, he hasn’t become strange. Before and after receiving treatment, he was truly his usual self.”
“What about the ‘promise’?”
“I asked, but I didn’t really understand. He said something like… ‘I saw it in a Dream.'”
…Another strange word has come up. To summarize Collette’s rambling story, Jean apparently saw a scene in a Dream where ‘someone’ made a ‘promise’ with ‘someone.’
Even he himself doesn’t know with whom the promise was made. But does that mean he attacked me because of that promise?
But if that’s the case, I realized that everyone who doesn’t question it might be having that ‘Dream,’ and a slight chill ran down my spine.
“…Collette?”
“I-I haven’t seen it.”
Collette hasn’t seen that Dream. If it’s related to the disappearance of the townspeople, then those who don’t question it also become suspicious.
But that raises a question. The two devils that were witnessed didn’t display such an ability. It’s possible they were hiding it, but another possibility comes to mind.
“…’Incubus’…”
A third devil…
“…Eh?”
“No, it’s nothing. More importantly, Collette, you should leave this town.”
“But, everyone… Cara!”
“If Slay and Cara are still sane, convince them and get them out. If Jean refuses, it’s better to leave him behind.”
“That’s…”
In the worst-case scenario, I’ll have to face the Bone Devil and the third ‘Incubus’ simultaneously.
If that Dream is truly the work of a demon, it would be best to let those who haven’t had the Dream yet escape, but this time, the insular nature of this town gets in the way. Did it choose this place knowing that…?
The insular townspeople probably wouldn’t believe the words of a mere adventurer. There was also the option of persuading the town’s lord to let them escape, but this town’s lord is a representative of the Ostore family.
It seems there’s no more time to gather evidence, nor to seek instructions from Elena. In that case, there’s only one solution I can manage.
“I’m going to the lord’s mansion. Collette, if there’s anyone you know who hasn’t had the ‘Promised’ ‘Dream’, please warn them.”
“O-Okay…”
Collette’s reply lacked spirit. She probably understands how difficult that would be. That’s why I will defeat the demon, the source of all this.
I finished my battle preparations and left the inn with Collette. Collette said she would head straight to their usual inn to persuade Cara and the others.
“…Huh?”
When we went outside, it was night, but there were still a few people on the street. Collette gasped upon seeing one of them, and when I looked too, Jean, who we should have immobilized, was there.
“Collette… I’m sorry.”
“Jean?!”
For some reason, Jean was looking at Collette with a face on the verge of tears. Seeing him like that, I remembered the initial sense of unease I felt when I first saw this town.
Back then too, it seemed normal 〝on the surface〟. But I felt an indescribable sense of wrongness somewhere. Looking at Jean, I realized what it meant. Why couldn’t I feel any life force from him now?
“Help me…”
Jean, who whispered that, shed tears of blood, and dark, clotted blood spilled from his mouth.
“N-Nooooooooooooooo?!”
Right before the screaming Collette, Jean, while spilling dark blood from every orifice in his body, turned his dead-fish-like eyes towards me.
“Chigau n da… That… was 〝me〟.”