452: Shino-san’s Mutter
The test for all nineteen candidates was over.
Number eighteen had targeted a sentry—a death knight—and had been defeated and disqualified. I thought there were some opponents you shouldn’t mess with.
Number nineteen had gotten caught on a string while crawling and had rung a bell. …But the moment she had, she had jumped up and had even managed to evade the pursuit of the death knight and the Black Hound Barghest and had escaped, so her evaluation was a little difficult.
“Number nineteen has a lot of potential. Her physical ability, and above all, her judgment is good. The fact that she focused on escaping is a good sign for an assassin.”
From Shino-san’s assessment, number nineteen must have passed. And she stared at Liz.
“What is it, senpai?”
“No? I was just thinking that I would rather have a subordinate who would run away than one who would charge in, with a misplaced sense of their own strength.”
“Actually, I kind of agree. She even jumped off a griffin.”
“Jumped… off? I don’t quite understand what you’re saying.”
“At that time, I was not an assassin, but a vice-commander and a guard.”
“Normally, you wouldn’t leave your protectee behind.”
“The Sixth Army’s job description for a vice-commander includes jumping off a griffin?”
I and Shino-san both retorted, but Liz did not yield.
“The situation on a battlefield is fluid, and a chance for victory is fleeting.”
“But I was so worried.”
“…Yes.” Liz, who had been hit with an emotion rather than a logical argument, nodded obediently.
—I was done with that kind of a battle.
You shouldn’t make an enemy. You shouldn’t fight. I hoped that the only thing the assassins of the future would kill would be the seeds of war.
Shino-san, who had been holding my hand, let go and stood up. The warmth I had felt through her white gloves disappeared. Her black hair was gently blown by the wind, and she held it down with her hand.
“I wonder if things would have been different if the Nokthausen mansion had been like this…”
At her words, which she had muttered, even more so than usual, I couldn’t help but look at her. She looked back at me.
“Thank you for your cooperation in the test.”
Her expression was, as always, a mask. To endure, with a blade over your heart—she was truly a creature of the darkness, a legend. She would probably never stand in the spotlight. She would probably never be in a position to be officially praised, to be recorded in history.
“In return, I will do anything I can for you.”
“…Anything?”
For a moment, the personality in my brain, who was delighted to have gotten her to say that, smiled, a smile that was dripping with poison. I glanced at Liz, and she, who was still crouching, was smiling. The Liz in my brain was saying, with a smile, “You know there’s a limit to ‘anything,’ don’t you?”
“Then I have one request for you, Shino-san…”
“Yes. —From the assassination of an unstable element to the disclosure of an interesting episode from Lizlit’s time in the Royal Guard, I will accept.”
I heard something rather disturbing. And something rather interesting.
“Wait, that interesting episode—”
“Master, I have no memory of it, but if I hear it, I will be angry.”
To avoid a marital crisis, I quickly gave up. I turned back to Shino-san.
“There’s something I want you to say.”
“Something you want me to say…?”
I let go of Liz’s hand and stood up.
“Yes, to me—”
I placed a hand on my chest and, with a serious expression, I told her my request.
“I want you to say… ‘Good day.’”
“…Hah.”
Shino-san blinked. Though her expression didn’t show it, I had a feeling she was a little bewildered.
She, on the small foothold on the wall, skillfully turned to face me. Her stable posture conveyed a sense of a core within her.
“…Good day, Lord of Disease?”
Shino-san, who had pinched the hem of her maid uniform’s skirt and had given an elegant greeting.
…There might have been a future where she—‘Shino Nokthausen’—had worn a dress and had acted as a young lady.
This was the first time I had heard ‘good day’ in Listrea.
Shino-san tilted her head.
“Is that all?”
“Yes. Thank you. I’ve always wanted to hear it in person, at least once in my life.”
“…You have no desires.”
“…No, I don’t think so.”
I shook my head lightly and denied it. I was a person of deep desires. Or rather, of deep obsessions. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have done ‘this much.’
“That’s right. …But the object of your desires is a little strange.”
Liz, who had stood up, said, with an exasperated voice. I laughed it off.
“Otherwise, I wouldn’t be able to be the Lord of Disease.”
“Is that something to be proud of?”
“It is.”
What I had raised was a proper, unashamed, and pure objective—
‘It was not.’
I had decided to destroy my own race. And I had done it.
A punishment for a crime. The basis of law was the presentation of a rule, and the punishment for a violation of that rule. A punishment was a compensation for the damage, a deterrent, an example—and a measure to permanently prevent a re-offense.
I had committed a crime. But it was not my crime alone. It wasn’t that I was trying to evade responsibility… everyone had said so.
That they would go to hell with me.
…I didn’t really believe in such a thing. If there was such a convenient thing, then it wouldn’t be a deterrent unless it was thoroughly publicized from the beginning. The damage in this world had not been compensated. It had not been an example. It had not functioned as a prevention of a re-offense. Therefore, even if it existed, it was only an incomplete system.
To be judged by such a thing was unbearable. Because there was no god, because there was no convenient salvation in this world, we had fought to save ourselves.
What we had done was evil. —I knew that. And yet, there was a world I had wished for.
…For me, who was so full of desires, an abstract ideal of a world where everyone was happy was not enough to be a principle of action.
I had fought for my comrades. For my friends. …For my lover. For Liz.
“I love you, Liz.”
—And for myself.
The day of reckoning, the day of karma, might come. But it was not today.
…If I could meet those who had gone before me again, then I would even wish for a hell.
Liz stood up.
“…Your desires and your wishes are a little strange, Master.”
“Yes, that is exactly right.” Shino-san nodded at Liz’s words. And she muttered.
“I’m a little envious, maybe.”
“Senpai. …What are you envious of?”
“Huh? Liz, what did Shino-san just say? Envious?”
Even though she was in a maid uniform, I didn’t understand what she was saying. I couldn’t hear her well, and I couldn’t grasp the meaning. Had she directed her consciousness in a way that only Liz could hear—or so I had thought, but that didn’t seem to be the case.
“Oh, Lizlit. …You’ve become a fine person. There is nothing more I can teach you.”
“No, don’t try to change the subject… wait, senpai! Shino-senpai?!”
Shino-san lightly jumped over the wall. And she waved, her expression unchanged.
“This is the first time you’ve called me by my name. —Well then.”
And she turned and ran—and in a moment, her figure blurred, became faint, and I could no longer follow her. The distance had probably become too great.
