“If you have something to say, say it plainly.”
—Time, for us, overflows; we have more than enough. That’s why we are patient by nature, and it’s easy for us to keep the feelings we once hold. But they are different. Their time is short and limited, so their hearts are fickle, and their feelings change all too easily.
—TIt was the inevitable nature of beings who must constantly sense their life dwindling away. Unlike us, who are nowhere near eternity, they make choices—consciously and unconsciously—each moment to escape the creeping anxiety and fear that comes with mortality. These choices are never consistent, bound as they are not only to mind but to their imperfect bodies as well.
—You, I’m sure, can wait. You believe that if you endure, unchanged, for just a brief moment, you’ll eventually have everything you wish for.
Within those words, there was self-mockery, sarcasm, and even a hint of anger.
—That is a delusion. While you wait, he will change—so easily.
“Anak would never change.”
Her voice was filled only with defiance; there was no conviction behind it.
—How long do you think a human can live? A hundred years? Perhaps. That may sound reasonable to you, since you believe he still has seventy years ahead of him.
His words were no longer just for Flame Legion Commander Ropena, but for himself as well.
—But humans age quickly. Their minds and emotions are deeply affected by their bodies. Do you really think he’ll be the same as he is now, twenty or thirty years from today?
She couldn’t answer. She had thought long and hard about Anak, tried to understand him, but she had never considered this. She tried desperately not to show it, but her eyes were already trembling.
—Don’t be mistaken. Time isn’t something you have in abundance. Even now, the moments you have with him as he is, the time you cherish, is slipping away much faster than you realize—and it will never return.
“Then what am I supposed to do?!”
Her emotions, which she had tried so hard to contain, burst forth.
“He doesn’t want things to change! Why are you telling me this? What do you expect me to do?!”
As her feelings erupted, fierce flames surged along her body, striking the Barrier’s wall. The flames filled the inside of the Barrier and then vanished; in that moment, Granviphra, who had paused, began to speak again.
—…I don’t know what you should do. That’s something you’ll have to figure out from here on.
Perhaps her outburst brought things back to balance, because Granviphra’s voice, which had grown heavier and heavier, and the emotions beneath it, seemed to return somewhat to normal.
—I only said it because I hope you won’t make the same mistake.
There was nothing more between Flame Legion Commander Ropena and Granviphra. Ropena needed to reconsider her feelings and her circumstances, and Granviphra clung to the remnants of choices he had never made—choices that no longer meant anything, buried in ancient memories.
***
“Fine. So, over there, then.”
At Eril’s signal from above, she began to move to the other side. Surveying the area from the sky was essential for finding a suitable spot, but since Eril herself drew so much attention, this was the only way.
Eril drew the gazes of others and moved farther away to the opposite side, and I quietly walked in the other direction, setting up a Self-Operating Barrier to erase my presence and scent.
Even surrounded by the Barrier, walking through the Forest of Evil without a path and with the constant fear of discovery was far from pleasant. I tried to comfort myself by recalling the time I’d infiltrated an enemy fortress through the sewers.
Finding a place as perfectly concealed as where Granviphra had been was nearly impossible. Sooner or later, we’d be discovered—that was a given. The best I could do was find a defensible spot.
I could have tried burying it deep in the ground, but that wouldn’t guarantee safety. Monsters that dig burrows are common, and who knows how many of them dwell in the Forest of Evil.
After walking a bit more, I came upon a spot like the one Eril had pointed out earlier. It wasn’t a clearing; in fact, it was dense with trees and undergrowth. From above, the ground would be hidden, and the thick vegetation would obscure the view from all but the closest vantage.
Not the best place for a fight, but the terrain would make attacking much harder than defending, so it was good enough. After picking a suitable spot to place the egg, I took out a crystal. I moved a few more steps to make sure of the location, then activated the crystal.
“All right. I’ve found a suitable spot, so now…”
But something felt off. I hadn’t expected the mood to be cheerful with just the two of them left behind, but the air itself felt different. I couldn’t see Granviphra’s face—just the eggshell—but Flame Legion Commander Ropena was standing silently with a grave expression.
“Is something wrong, you two?”
No answer.
“Flame Legion Commander Ropena?”
“No, nothing’s wrong. Hurry up and go.”
I didn’t believe her, but pressing further wouldn’t change anything, and wasting time would do no good.
“Understood. I’ll see you in two days.”
I placed my hand on Granviphra’s shell and activated the crystal, and we returned to the previous spot. I’d tried to match the position precisely, but there was a slight misalignment—the egg tilted a bit, but it settled properly.
“…What did you say to her?”
—I simply made a few presumptuous remarks about the feelings you two have for each other.
I couldn’t guess what exactly had been said. Or rather, there were too many possibilities to settle on just one. What was certain was that it was nothing pleasant.
“…It was indeed a presumptuous remark.”
At my gesture, sentences floated in the air around us. As I’d said, I wasn’t just hoping not to be discovered. Sooner or later, we would be, and I had to be ready.
From among the floating sentences, creatures that looked like clumps of green moss began to crawl out. Behind the moss, each one had a long tail like a scorpion’s, tipped with a brown stinger.
The difference from a scorpion’s tail was that these stingers could be fired at their targets.
These creatures were called Shtis Dazlang. “Dazlang” is the name of a tree native to the south—literally, “Shooting Tree.”
The creatures crawled toward the outermost trees and climbed up. They settled on leaves, branches, and trunks, and within seconds, their bodies shifted to match the color of their surroundings perfectly.
Those on leaves turned a deep green; those on branches became brown; those on trunks even developed rough, bark-like patterns.
This is why they’re called Shtis Dazlang, Shooting Trees. They usually dwell in trees, firing their venomous stingers indiscriminately at approaching prey. A single stinger isn’t particularly deadly, but if struck by enough, even ogres or trolls with powerful regeneration can’t withstand it.
Controlling them was easy enough, but unless I kept my mind tightly linked to theirs, they couldn’t distinguish friend from foe—they were that primitive. That’s why I hadn’t used them much in the last war, but in this situation, it didn’t matter. Anyone approaching would be an enemy.
Next, sentences appeared all over the ground. Most had been used up, so only a few remained, but there were still some creatures worth summoning.
The sentences vanished, revealing round green bodies with five vine-like tentacles raised high—at a glance, they could be mistaken for plants.
Ashid Trapper. They catch prey with acidic tentacles and dissolve them. I’d used them so much for delaying and sieges during the last war that only these eight were left for me to summon. Maybe there are more out there, but these are all I could reach now.
To fill the gaps, I called on similar, yet different, creatures.
Round bodies with three or four tentacles reaching upward. But what set them apart was the wide, gaping mouth in the center, lined with sharp teeth—nothing like the Ashid Trapper.
Their name was Kwoolli. Monsters that shove anything approaching straight into their mouths. They weren’t as effective as the Ashid Trapper, but they’d serve as traps to block or at least slow the enemy.
Will that be enough?
Granviphra asked, sounding a bit doubtful. It was a reasonable reaction. What I’d summoned and deployed were little more than traps, and their effect would be limited. If our position was found and a large force attacked, these alone would only buy us time.
“Well, wasn’t our goal to buy time anyway?”
—That’s true. But if one of the Managers comes, this won’t be enough. Of course, Duru Satal wouldn’t come in person, but Hirde or Toquas surely would.
“Are those the names of the other Managers?”
He gave a short nod. It was a pointless question. I wanted to ask why he was so sure Duru Satal wouldn’t come in person, but I let it go for now.
“Don’t worry. I’m only doing this much to avoid drawing attention. Once the battle starts, Eril will arrive, and I’ll summon other creatures as well.”
—I know it’s ungracious for one receiving help to say this, but even though you and she are strong, it will be hard to protect me from two Managers and countless monsters.
He included me out of courtesy, but it was clear from his earlier words that he didn’t see me and Eril as equals. I wasn’t offended; rather, I was impressed by his constant politeness, even in small things.
In fact, it’s normal for a summoner to be considered weaker than their summons. Even when we of the Order of the Dark Priests inspired fear, it was the same.
“Don’t worry. I chose this spot for a reason.”
At that, he said no more. Whether he truly believed me or was just being polite, I couldn’t say.
***
—What are Hirde and Toquas doing?
Duru Satal was growing anxious over the sudden disappearance of Elde Toquas and Wabutu Hirde. Their minions and soldiers still seemed to be searching for Granviphra, but in such a tense situation, the sudden absence of two fellow Managers was enough to unsettle him.
—Could they have been defeated? Has Granviphra already revived? No, that can’t be!
Under his command, countless monsters in the Forest of Evil were searching, especially keeping an eye on the Phoenix flying overhead, but there was no sign of Granviphra anywhere.
That human—where did that human come from?
When he first heard of the human and the unfamiliar monsters he commanded, Duru Satal paid it little mind. Humans were not common, but they did occasionally enter the forest, only to leave or, more often, die.
When his army marched toward the cave where Granviphra was hiding, he saw the human himself through their linked consciousness. He watched as the human blocked and slaughtered his army with strange monsters and spells, but even then, he wasn’t too concerned.
Whether the human was helping Granviphra, foolishly trying to capture Granviphra, or simply chasing the Phoenix, he didn’t know. Regardless, the army marching on the cave was just a diversion; the real force was preparing to collapse the ground above the cave.
Besides, the human soon fled. Duru Satal put the human out of his mind and watched with satisfaction as the cave collapsed. Granviphra would surely reappear somewhere in the Forest of Evil as an egg, waiting for the day of resurrection, but for now, the immediate crisis was over.
But when he checked the cave’s remains, Granviphra’s egg was missing, and only then did he focus all his attention on the human he’d seen.
Yet even now, with nearly a whole day gone, there was no sign of Granviphra or the human, and to make matters worse, he’d lost contact with the other two Managers. No wonder he was impatient.
—If only I had a body I could move!
Duru Satal, Asta Frte. The one who hides everywhere. The one who is always adrift. True to those titles, he linked and shared consciousness with countless other beings, present everywhere and possessing many things. But his main body—far from hidden—couldn’t even move.
The scenery was nothing but ordinary trees, nothing special to mark Duru Satal’s presence. But this was Duru Satal.
The roots of nearly twenty trees were intertwined beneath the ground, forming a tangled mass like a giant brain.
A collective consciousness of trees—this was Duru Satal’s true form.
—…!
He felt one of his soldiers’ minds break off in agony. At the same time, his impatience faded.
Not every creature in the Forest of Evil was under the Managers’ control, but in all his long years, he had never encountered a creature that could inflict such pain.
It was clear—this was the work of those strange creatures the human commanded. He sent all the soldiers linked to him in that direction. There was no need for tricks or special tactics like yesterday.
He summoned even the minions of Hirde and Toquas. This time, he would end it for good.