Chapter 40
Murakumo Kariya has resolved to carry his secret with him to the grave.
Murakumo is a mage.
Yet no one knows it.
Not even the senior officials of the Tohoku Hunting Association, his direct superiors, know.
At first, he had no intention of keeping it secret.
Murakumo had originally worked at a restaurant and enjoyed gathering edible wild plants as a hobby. During the Gremlin disaster, he had even spent a night in a mountain hut, counting the mushrooms he had gathered. But that one night became three when he fell into a coma during his mutation.
When Murakumo awoke from the coma, he immediately became aware of the dramatic improvement in his physical abilities, the magical power surging through his entire body, and the magic spells etched into his brain.
After staying in the mountain hut for several days, confronting the changes in himself and somehow accepting them, Murakumo descended the mountain, determined to get himself examined at a proper hospital before doing anything else.
Sendai City, as seen from the foot of the mountain, was a scene from hell.
Monsters ran rampant while the Self-Defense Forces and police built defensive lines around evacuation shelters. Blood and flames, screams, chaos, and death had spread everywhere.
Murakumo had awakened to tremendous power, but he was an ordinary man with no preparation for any of this. Terrified and shrinking back from the disaster that looked nothing like modern Japan, he stumbled into a shelter.
But that shelter was wiped out within a few days. In its place, four Transcendents appeared, driving the monsters from Sendai City and bringing its citizens together.
That was the Tohoku Hunting Association.
The Tohoku Hunting Association was a family.
That is not a metaphor. Except for the one witch who joined later, they were all related by blood.
They apparently came from a sturdy family prone to developing the static-electricity constitution required to become witches and mages. Moreover, three of them were experienced hunters with hunting licenses. Their incredible teamwork and skill earned them an ecstatic welcome from the survivors of Sendai City.
However. Even so. And yet.
Murakumo's relief was short-lived.
Sendai's heroes, the Tohoku Hunting Association, soon revealed their limits. After accurately grasping that there was fundamentally not enough food and that the area they could protect was limited, the Association decided to reduce the number of mouths to feed. They carried it out despite the voices of opposition.
They drove the weak, the elderly, and the sick out beyond their defensive area, into the dead lands where man-eating monsters roamed.
In hindsight, it had been the right decision.
Even after reducing their numbers, so many people suffered from malnutrition that, if they had tried to protect everyone, they all would have been struck by starvation and died together.
But the fact that it was the right decision did not make it reassuring.
Murakumo learned that "the Tohoku Hunting Association does things like that" and decided to keep his own power secret at all costs.
They knew their limits. They knew there were things they could not protect. They knew that sacrifices were sometimes necessary.
Murakumo feared that if he revealed his power, he would be worked to the bone as part of the strong's duty, only to be discarded in the end.
Of course, the Tohoku Hunting Association was strict, but fair.
They would never oppress someone unnecessarily or force them to die for no reason.
But, conversely, if necessary, they would demand someone's death.
After all, when reducing their numbers, they had discarded even their blood relatives without making exceptions.
They were frightening precisely because they were fair.
Murakumo did not want to die.
No matter how much supernatural power he had awakened to, he had not become immortal. When his time came, he would die.
To begin with, mages had no obligation to protect people. Even if such an obligation existed, this ruined world offered no reward commensurate with the heavy responsibility of protecting tens of thousands of lives.
Murakumo suspected that there were other witches and mages like him, hiding their powers and quietly blending into the crowds.
No matter how mighty their power, there would certainly be people who believed it was better if they could avoid using it. Depending on how their mutations had altered their appearance, some might not be able to do that even if they wanted to.
Murakumo suppressed his magical power to the level of "rather impressive for a human," hid the distinctive traits of a mage, and successfully secured a place for himself in the Tohoku Hunting Association.
Murakumo was particularly skilled at controlling his magical power, even among mages. Pretending to be an ordinary person who could handle himself reasonably well was not difficult.
He obtained a position as the lookout at the Daidarabocchi watchtower on Mount Nishi-Azuma and managed well for several years.
The watchtower had been built just outside the very edge of Daidarabocchi's territory.
He would be the first to die if Daidarabocchi started rampaging, but as long as Daidarabocchi remained docile, there was no easier job in the world. And if Daidarabocchi did start rampaging, escaping would be easy enough for Murakumo if he used his abilities as a mage.
The Nishi-Azuma watchtower had initially been staffed by three people, but because Daidarabocchi was so docile, their numbers were gradually reduced. Now Murakumo was alone.
Monsters feared Daidarabocchi and did not approach its territory. The watchtower at the territory's edge was generally safe as well.
What soothed Murakumo's safe but lonely life as a lookout was the supplies delivered once a month—and Itsuwara, the only woman in the Tohoku Hunting Association, who came on regular patrols carrying them.
Itsuwara was a witch with rabbit-like ears, just as her name suggested.
She was a small, slender woman with pink hair and nimble movements. With her cute face and cheerful, approachable personality, she had captured Murakumo's heart before he knew it.
Itsuwara was the Tohoku Hunting Association's only woman and only non-blood relative, yet she seemed to have blended smoothly into the organization through her natural charm.
Of course, the useful enhancement magic she wielded must also have helped immensely. Even so, the reason the notoriously stubborn old man who coordinated the group, "Itazu," liked her was undoubtedly her admirable character.
Once a month, Itsuwara came carrying supplies, collected Murakumo's Daidarabocchi observation diary, chatted with him about trivial things, and then left.
After realizing his feelings, Murakumo made subtle advances toward Itsuwara. He asked what she liked and cooked for her, or gave her bookmarks made with flowers in her favorite color.
He had thought about telling her that he was a mage more than once or twice, hoping to get closer to her.
Yet every time the words rose to his throat, they retreated when he saw the scarf around her neck. The scarf and the scars hidden beneath it inevitably reminded him of the bloody hunting accident in which Itsuwara's neck had nearly been severed.
Murakumo did not have the courage to abandon his peaceful life as a lookout and leap into a deadly battlefield.
She was cheerful, energetic, and bright—the sort of woman who used the power she had awakened to as naturally as breathing, for the sake of innocent civilians. If she learned that Murakumo possessed power, and that he was letting it lie unused, Itsuwara would never think well of him.
Murakumo was more comfortable being thought of as an ordinary person who simply had a little more magical power and mobility than most.
Even if it meant becoming something more than that would be difficult.
And Murakumo was about to have his naïve way of thinking thrust mercilessly in his face.
Why had he never considered that, just as he had been drawn to Itsuwara, there might be a man who was drawn to her?
One winter day, a silver ring gleamed on the left ring finger of Itsuwara, who had come to the watchtower fully armed for the operation to subjugate Daidarabocchi.
It was a wedding ring.
Itsuwara noticed Murakumo staring at the ring in speechless shock and gave him an embarrassed smile.
Oh, this? Okyaku told me we should get married after defeating Daidarabocchi. We haven't had the ceremony yet, but we have the rings.
Murakumo hoped that the words he managed to squeeze out—Congratulations—had sounded normal.
Itsuwara held the ring up to the sun and smiled with genuine happiness. She was more beautiful than he had ever seen her.
She shone as she gazed at the proof of love and romance, brighter than when she laughed at one of his jokes or smiled while thanking him for a gift.
Murakumo barely remembered how he had seen Itsuwara off as she departed for battle.
Before he knew it, he was climbing the watchtower and staring blankly through the telescope.
His insides boiled with rage at his own stupidity.
Why hadn't he found the courage sooner?
Why hadn't he told her his secret?
Why, why hadn't he told her he loved her...?
Murakumo shed tears, and his disgust with those pathetic tears only deepened his self-loathing.
He did not care what it was; he wanted to vent his aimless anger against something.
And the opening gunshot that signaled the outbreak of war between the Tohoku Hunting Association and Daidarabocchi was the perfect target for Murakumo to vent his feelings against.
Anything.
Kill it!!!
I'm in a foul mood right now.
For this operation, Murakumo had never seen the actual magic item said to have been imported from the Tokyo Witches' Gathering.
But if Itazu had gone so far as to retract his order, "Do not interfere with Daidarabocchi," it had to be something extraordinary.
That was also clear from Itsuwara's excitement immediately after last month's rehearsal.
In fact, after being struck by a special round called a "Sealing Bullet," Daidarabocchi rose slowly, like a turtle, and let out an unnaturally prolonged roar.
Its movements—or rather, time itself—had slowed. In principle, the Sealing Bullet seemed to work in a way similar to the Monster Tongs.
While Daidarabocchi was slowed, five figures burst out from five watch posts and rushed toward the giant's feet at tremendous speed, closing in from five directions to surround it.
Murakumo's mutated superhuman vision identified them as four mages and one witch.
Daidarabocchi noticed the hunters approaching and spewed a huge amount of vile purple gas from its waist. But a gigantic tornado that suddenly appeared blew the gas far up into the sky.
It was the magic of one of the Tohoku Hunting Association's members, Aokera.
The gigantic tornado, powerful enough to blow away and crush houses, had no effect on Daidarabocchi.
But the lethal magical smoke vanished from the ground, and the hunters reached the giant's feet.
More Sealing Bullets were fired, and a simultaneous barrage began.
Because he was a mage, Murakumo knew the limits of magic. Yet every one of the hunters' spells had surpassed those limits by several levels.
The benefits of the Tokyo Witches' Gathering's fabled "Wands" were even more tremendous than rumor had suggested.
Storms raged, pillars of light descended from the heavens, blinding violet lightning like bundled thunderbolts crackled, and the jaws of a gigantic translucent wolf clamped down on the giant's leg. It was as though natural disasters had gained wills of their own and were attacking the giant.
By the time five Sealing Bullets had struck, Daidarabocchi's rocky armor had been completely stripped away. Copper-red fur was exposed, revealing an ugly, distorted, ape-like face.
Murakumo was certain of victory.
The troublesome armor was gone. All that remained was to beat it into a bloody pulp.
Murakumo's anger swelled into incoherence. If only you had not existed, I would surely have had a good relationship with Itsuwara by now. But his excitement gradually cooled, and he began to feel uneasy.
The operation, which had proceeded smoothly up to the destruction of the armor, was taking a troubling turn.
The time delay was unquestionably working. Daidarabocchi's stomping feet and swinging arms were far too slow to even graze the hunters.
The concentrated barrage of supercharged magic was striking Daidarabocchi without a single spell going to waste.
But Daidarabocchi was regenerating.
Its injured parts were healing at a terrifying speed.
Although the damage was greater and its wounds were gradually multiplying and deepening, it was still alive despite having been struck by enough magic to kill it twice already. Its only major injury was one leg that had nearly been torn off.
Its toughness exceeded all expectations. Daidarabocchi's regenerative ability was well known, but no one had expected it to be this powerful or this enduring.
Nearly thirty minutes passed after the battle began.
As the thirteenth Sealing Bullet struck, all four of Daidarabocchi's limbs were destroyed.
Daidarabocchi's head, high above where magic had difficulty reaching, finally fell to the ground.
For a moment, Murakumo felt the atmosphere of the battlefield relax.
There were still two Sealing Bullets left.
All that remained was to deliver the finishing blow to Daidarabocchi, now reduced to a torso and neck without limbs.
Even seasoned hunters could not maintain their intense concentration through a battle lasting thirty minutes. Moreover, they had only been bombarding it with attacks, facing almost no meaningful resistance. Murakumo, too, thought they could push through and finish the job.
Daidarabocchi had probably been waiting for that opening.
Daidarabocchi possessed only two spells: a sticky, lethal cloud of poison gas covering a wide area, and regeneration.
But at the critical moment when its life hung in the balance, a third spell activated.
Daidarabocchi's huge body, stripped of all four limbs, sprang upward.
Its leap was ominous.
It was not the slow, ponderous leap of something underwater. It was a vigorous leap, like a fresh fish flopping after being thrown onto land.
Limbs rapidly sprouted from the giant body as it leaped into the air.
A torrent of cold sweat burst from Murakumo's entire body.
The worst trump card.
Daidarabocchi had concealed a time-acceleration spell that canceled out the time delay caused by the Sealing Bullets.
The hunters had no chance of winning.
They had been forced to expend spell after spell, their concentration was failing, and their magical power was nearly depleted.
They could barely manage one last push, much less escape.
Even so, the hunters had far more experience in the field. The moment the five realized the emergency, they began retreating all at once.
The five scattered and fled in five different directions.
After fully regenerating its body, Daidarabocchi seized a massive boulder from the mountain beneath its feet and drew back to hurl it at one of the fleeing hunters—Okyaku. Even from nearly twenty kilometers away, Murakumo's mutated eyes clearly saw Okyaku's back as he fled without looking aside.
A foreboding feeling crossed Murakumo's mind.
It was not Itsuwara who had been targeted.
It was the man who had stolen Itsuwara's heart while Murakumo stood helplessly by.
Murakumo imagined the worst.
Itsuwara grieving over the loss of the man who had promised to marry her, with Murakumo standing beside her and gently comforting her...
Having thought that far, Murakumo gave a sudden laugh, aimed an invisible bow into empty space, and assumed the stance of nocking an arrow.
Murakumo loved Itsuwara.
Whatever the reason, he did not want to see her crying.
For the hunt, three things are enough: a weapon, resolve, and a wife's farewell.
He poured every last bit of magical power into it, just short of losing control, and a golden bow and arrow suffused with a gentle phosphorescence formed in empty space.
The hunter crept behind the creeping monster.
With the continuation of the incantation, the golden bow and arrow vanished, leaving only the sensation of drawing the bowstring taut in both his hands.
All sound and scent disappeared, and even magical power became hazy.
Murakumo did not hesitate to chant the third spell, one he had never used even once before.
Hunt or be hunted.
In exchange for an explosive increase in power, missing the target would cause the arrow to pierce him.
He drew an arrow filled with magic right up to the limit, stopping just short of producing symptoms of magical deficiency, and then drew it back as far as it would go. With a strangely calm and tranquil heart, Murakumo gently released his fingers.
The invisible arrow flew in a straight line, cleaving through the sky.
Ignoring air resistance and producing none of the sonic boom that should have naturally occurred, it flew silently and without a trace of presence, in inverse proportion to its destructive power.
The deadly arrow crossed twenty kilometers in only a few seconds, blasting apart Daidarabocchi's torso just as it was about to throw the boulder and tearing its upper and lower halves apart.
He had not aimed for the head because he wanted to avoid even the slightest chance of missing a smaller target.
By blasting the torso apart and forcing it to spend time regenerating, he could buy Okyaku enough time to escape. Even if Okyaku could not get outside the territory, he would at least be beyond the boulder's guaranteed-hit range.
Murakumo had no magical power left for a second shot, but he held his follow-through stance and watched the battle.
The upper and lower halves of Daidarabocchi's body, separated at the torso, fell to the ground with earth-shaking thuds.
And then...
...and then, it did not regenerate.
Blood flowed out like a river, staining the trees and earth red, but Daidarabocchi did not twitch.
Once again, the atmosphere of the battlefield changed.
It looked dead, but they had only just been caught off guard by that very hasty assumption. Neither the hunters nor Murakumo let down their guard; they watched in battle-ready positions without approaching.
An hour passed without the tension easing.
Daidarabocchi did not move.
But another hour passed, and just as the sun began to sink beyond the mountains, a small bird perched on Daidarabocchi's wide-open eye.
Even then, Daidarabocchi did not move.
The great river of blood had stopped, and Daidarabocchi's huge body had shriveled from massive blood loss.
It was clearly devoid of life.
Daidarabocchi was dead.
Even Daidarabocchi's seemingly limitless regenerative ability had its limits.
With its final burst of strength, time acceleration, and rapid regeneration, Daidarabocchi had exhausted every last bit of its power.
Murakumo finally let out a deep breath and collapsed on the spot.
After a long war of attrition, Daidarabocchi was dead.
Itsuwara was safe.
Okyaku was alive as well.
Could there be a happier ending than this?
Murakumo surrendered himself to the heavy fatigue weighing on him and lay on the cold floor of the watchtower. Even when the Tohoku Hunting Association asked him, "Did you see what happened at the end?" he decided to feign ignorance to the bitter end.
Murakumo Kariya has resolved to carry his secret with him to the grave.
The only woman to whom he might have revealed his secret had married another man.
Murakumo had never even managed to step onto the same stage as his rival.
Some people might laugh at him as a pathetic loser.
But Murakumo was proud that he had been able to save the man the woman he loved had fallen in love with.
With that pride in his heart, Murakumo would live out his life and die as an obscure, ordinary man—not a mage or anything special.