MaruMA:Volume05:Chapter8

Chapter 8

The whole time, I heard the song Bésame Mucho playing in my head.

It even has muted alto saxophones perfectly setting the mood. I only know part of the lyrics, though.

"... Ugh... my ears hurt... I feel sick..."

"You got tea in your ears, most likely."

Since this had happened to me several times before, I realized that my head was in someone's lap even before I opened my eyes. But Wolfram isn't with me and Murata would be a little bonier and harder. What is this superb elasticity?

"Miss Maid- gyaah!"

I rolled away like a log on a steep decline and put as much distance between me and 'pillow' as I can. My clothes get soaked in tea, but they're cheap so it's okay.

"W-w-w-w-why was I lying on American Football Macho's lap?!"

"I try to be nice for once... you're pretty rude."

With my head out of his lap, Adalbert stretched his legs and stood up. That being said, ugh, that was some superb gayness- no, elasticity.

I needed to find out what had happened and what type of natural disaster I let loose this time. While my white self was enjoying the music, my black self possibly stamped out an entire city. These different selves were both me so I couldn't deny what I had done.

"In truth, since last time... I pretty much remembered..."

After I got past that white darkness, I was already in the middle of a scathing diatribe in Ue-sama Mode.

Ahh, even if I'm embarrassed by what I was saying, there was nothing I could do to stop (Linda).

I had stopped hearing that woman's voice that had helped me a little until now. Was my trial period over, and now I was a full-fledged member? Actually, did something like a trial period really exist for the Maou?

The room looked horrible, but at least the maid was free. She was crying loudly against the chest of Beard Butler. So she preferred that type.

Murata came towards me at a leisurely pace and held out the tablecloth to me. Right in the middle was a large brown stain with the word 'justice.'

"Here it is, your completed masterpiece."

"Muraken..."

How was I supposed to talk my way out of this one after showing him the most otherworldly spectacle yet? Or was this maybe the perfect opportunity to take the bull by the horns and lay it all out in plain English?

"Hey, Murata."

"Man, that was an amazing illusion! This was the first time I saw someone do Saltimbanco up close so I almost pissed myself. A question, though, Shibuya - when and where exactly did you manage to become an apprentice? So after you've been going on about how you're a career catcher and the catcher is everything in baseball, your dream job turns out to be a magician?"

"Huuuh? Errrrrrr, wellll, magic is... just a hobby. Nothing but a hobby."

"Nonsense! You put professional magicians to shame far moreso than professional baseball players."

That was also a shocking utterance.

It's amazing that he can explain this unending parade of unrealistic occurrences under magic tricks and foreign culture. At first when we reunited, I had considered him a bookworm that got bullied a lot, but recently this impression of him is being challenged.

"So cool~. An illusionist that saves girls with magic tricks. Thanks to your lack of chest hair, you leave a more favorable impression than David Copperfield."

"Well I'm still in my teens so I might get some chest hair in my twenties, you know?" I say as stealthily glance around 360 degrees to check out the damage.

Flynn Gilbit's dining room was totally trashed and the walls, ceilings, and even the window frames were completely drenched. The room was filled with the aroma of tea.

The bundle of tattered rags that were crawling across the floor turned out to be a thoroughly cut up Nigel Weiss Maxine. Propping himself against a wall, he was finally successful in pulling himself upright and he looked down on me with a bloodied face.

"You're really bloody..."

"Don't get any closer!" Maxine pressed the back of his head against the wall and held out his right hand to stop me. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes. "... I don't have any fatal wounds or broken bones. There are only these impressively thin cuts... Who exactly are you? You seem to be an acquaintance of Adalbert's."

"A glance at his hair and eyes should be enough to answer that question," Adalbert grumbled.

Only after having it pointed out by the American Football Macho did I notice that my cap had been blown off of my head.

Murata picked it up from a corner of the room and forced it down over my skull.

"A baseball boy can't forget his cap."

"I'm a catcher so I spend more time wearing a helmet."

"... Black hair, black eyes," Maxine whispered to himself and then immediately shifted his gaze away.

It seems like he's had enough of me.

"Hey there."

Adalbert raises his hand in a pointedly friendly way.

Mutely I turned away, but I couldn't walk away even if I tried because I was held fast by the shoulder. Only the bottom half of my body was trying to escape while my feet kept stepping down in the same exact spot.

The man who wanted to kill the brand new Maou was highly amused by my panic just like when we met for the first time.

"I have a mountain of things I want to ask you, Captain Crusoe, if I'm not mistaken?"

Murata, not knowing anything about the situation, steps in with an innocent smile.

"Hey now, he was an acquaintance of yours, Shibuya? If so you should have said something sooner."

"I don't want anything to do with you," I said. "Günter and Conrad have told me that much as well!"

"Where have those two got to? And what about that third son? What is an inexperienced guy like you doing travelling to an area so far removed from the kingdom with an even more inexperienced comrade in tow?"

Since the conversation had come around to him, Murata answered in a genial, conversational tone.

"Oh, pleased to make your acquaintance. I'm Robinson. I was in the same class as Crusoe in the second and third year of middle school."

"Are you also a mazoku?"

"Excuse me? I'm more of a guy with a mother complex than a mazoku."

"... Murata... are you like, the emperor of puns?"

In any case, Japanese hair bleach was pretty good. Mr. Image Change had done it himself at home, but you couldn't really tell that it was originally black. But Murata, please don't get too friendly with him. He betrayed his country and is a traitor who is trying to kill me.

"Wh-wh-wh-what about you? Why are you with such a villainous man?"

"Villainous? Him? Haha, I feel like he just has a few bad hobbies."

"What do you mean 'hobbies?' What kind of habits are those!? If you're not going to answer me seriously then I'm not going to give you a serious answer either."

Murata had been watching us with a smile, but now he clapped us both on the shoulder and said, "Well, look at that! In spite of the age difference, you two are having fun. Two people of different ages and nationalities meeting again in another country - you must have pretty strong bonds of fate. Maybe you were teammates in a previous life, huh?"

"... Mu-Murata."

I don't know about my previous lives, but I have no intention of joining anything but the All-Pacific.

Suddenly, American Football Macho grabbed me by the neck and stuffed his hand down my collar. Thinking he was going to throw me for a long pass, I unconsciously curl up my body.

However, what Adalbert grabbed was the magic stone that had belonged to his previous fiancee.

It was surrounded by silver metalwork and was a blue deeper than the sky. The Lion's Blue talisman changed color just slightly in the heat of his hand. It was the same color as his turkish blue eyes.

"... The stone has already taken on your color..."

"Mine? The color hasn't changed since it was given to me."

"Not so."

When Adalbert gently released it, the stone fell back to my chest with a soft noise.

"... Before it was more white. You said it was given to you. Where and who did you get this from?"

Thinking about the relationship between the two, I wondered if I should tell the truth and I hesitated for just a moment. But, I couldn't think of a solid reason why I should lie so I'll tell him the truth.

"Right after I came to this world for the first time, I was given the stone as a talisman... from Conrad."

"... I see."

"Ah, but don't take your frustrations out on Conrad! Right now he's... he's got... a lot of problems..."

Even while feeling nauseous once again from the stress and exhaustion, I desperately deny the feeling of despair rising within me. He's fine. He's not dead. He's alive. Absolutely!

"Did something happen to Lord Weller?"

"Not really, thanks for asking."

He probably sensed that something was wrong with my awkward answer, but Adalbert didn't press further on the issue and instead asked one final question.

"Is it true that you're a descendent of the Wincotts and the son of Susanna Julia?"

Of course it's not true.

"That's all nonsense that Robinson thought up. I never thought that anyone would believe it. And especially you - didn't you know Julia personally? You should know if I resemble her or not right away."

"That's right... you’re probably right," Adalbert repeats as if to convince himself. On top of that, he gazed at me with a serious expression and nodded twice before finally coming to a conclusion. "I didn't kill you because I was curious about that."

"What!? So now you don't have any reservations anymore?"

"Well, seems so."

The hallway suddenly got loud. Through the open door, we heard the boots of a group approaching. Flynn Gilbit might have been bringing some young soldiers.

"But it looks like I don't have time for that today. That's a relief, huh, Your Majesty the rookie. Your life has been spared."

You aren't the one who calls me that. Suddenly my tear ducts feel like they're going to open up.

I hastily covered my mouth, nose, and left eye with the flat of my hand. I don't even know myself why I felt this urge.

Grantz shoved his companion onto the balcony and he put a leg onto the window frame.

"No... those soldiers aren't from here," he said. "Judging from the sound of their military boots, they're from Dai Shimaron. Hey, Maxine! Stop staring off into space. Hurry up and get down- oops."

Because he was bodily lifted up instead of given a helping hand, Nigel Weiss Maxine fell from the balcony leaving a long, drawn out cry in his wake.

"Hey, that was too fast, Nigel."

"That was your fault... What floor is this, anyway? Is he alright?"

"Nah, he will never die."

I see a glimpse into his scary confidence.

It happened when Adalbert jumped over the balcony's iron railing and started to let himself down

"Shibuya!" Murata called out from a step behind me in a near shriek. "They have guns!"

"Guns!? In this world-"

The door was ripped open and a dozen soldiers stormed in.

One of them has something at under his arm...

"That's a gun, right?"

The blood ran out of my face all at once and I was hit by dizziness. No matter how much I tried to push it away, that horrible scene comes back in my thoughts.

Several soldiers with machines under their arms that looked like small super-dustbusters you would see on an infomercial.

Since their bodies were completed enshrouded and their faces were hidden by red-green masks, it was impossible to tell where they were from.

With a tremble through the long barrel, it spit out a blazing fireball.

That object bigger than a basketball and steered directly towards their target and...

That time, in front of me Conrad was...

"... Was it you?"

These people had the same fire devices handing from their shoulders and under their arms.

This time they weren't wearing the red and green masks or the grey cloths. They were wearing normal military outfits and had everyday, human faces.

They were normal soldiers with a normal commander. Flynn Gilbit was watching from behind them.

But they had the same unique and evil weapons.

"So it was you?"

The man on the far right was distracted by my voice for a moment, but he immediately retrained his sights and after tremor ran through his machine, a fireball shot out.

The target wasn't me. I knew that by instinct.

But I can not forgive that weapon!

"Shibuya!"

Murata wrapped his arms around my waist as if he was trying to tackle me.

It's fine, I don't need to dodge. I'm not the target. Even if I was...

They would never hit me.

---

I'm screaming.

My whole body was in pain. My arms and legs were being pulled hard enough to tear off. Blood sprayed from my fingertips. All of my fingernails felt like they were about to rip off. My spine was bent too far backwards. My head hung so far back it was about to fall off. I was yanked back by the hair. Something shot hot and cold through my throat, my windpipe, and my organs. Claws gripped at my heart and my head felt like it was on fire.

But, I wasn't screaming in pain.

This is probably anger.

One side of my vision is pure white, the other side is clear.

It's like there are four scopes or cameras on top of my head.

Like I was in the middle of a huge wave, everything around me was being swept along by the raging water's pressure.

Even though everything was being broken, smashed, and washed away, there was a soft and invisible wall around me that was around the same height as a man. Rather than a wall, it seemed more like a curtain.

There was something... someone clinging to my waist so I had to be a little careful that they stayed inside my shelter.

If not then that... he would immediately be swept up in the flow and get smashed against something and be broken.

And, if he left me, I wouldn't be able to scream anymore.

I would lose my anger if I couldn't scream anymore, but if I lost my anger, I wouldn't be myself anymore.

If I'm not myself and I go back to being just water, I won't be able to feel pain and sadness anymore.

Quiet water that can no longer feel anything just keeps on flowing.

---

She walked along with bare feet.

The third story had been almost completely destroyed and even the windows and walls had been broken through.

Water fell ceaselessly from the ceiling that had just barely survived.

This was how it had been in the flood of the century, when the whole estate had been flooded. But no, if she remembered correctly, the water had only reached the first floor and the stone walls and ceilings had been fine. Only the window panes and wood frames had been destroyed. It was nothing compared to the disastrous scenario that was playing out before her eyes at this moment.

Most importantly, where had all of that water come from? Even though there were large rivers nearby, this place wasn't directly next to the ocean.

It had suddenly materialized in the air and destroyed only the third floor. There are no mountains or waterfalls, but it cut through like a flash flood.

Flynn Gilbit lifted the hem of her dress, revealing her bare ankles.

She stepped through the puddles of water, like a little girl on a rainy day.

"... Is this the power of the Wincott clan?"

History told of the ten clans that had protected this world from the Originators and sealed it away. However, humans feared their immense power and, whether they were the same race or not, drove them out of these lands.

The Wincott family had fled from Caloria to the west, found peaceful land, and established a homeland.

Flynn frowned at a young soldier who came splashing towards her. Be more quiet so you don't wake the 'something' sleeping here.

"The ground floor and the second floor are almost completely undamaged. The only issue is the water dripping down. For now, no soldiers or anyone..."

So was this the power of mazoku?

No wonder humans feared them.

There was a blank-eyed boy sitting and leaning against the only remaining iron railing on her balcony. She hadn't realized until now that his hair and eyes were both pitch black. The other boy was leaning against him with his arm around the other's shoulders.

That one was still conscious and his eyes were alert. They were alert and taking in his surroundings.

"Why aren't your clothes wet?" Flynn asked.

The two boys had been at the center of the water flow and should have taken the brunt of the flood that sprang forth.

"The water flowed around us," the blond answered. The other showed no reaction.

She remembers hearing their names, but they had probably been false names anyway. Yes, they were Crusoe and Robinson. They did not seem like the names of people who had power. They sounded almost like names from a child's picture book.

Flynn called a powerfully built subordinate over and ordered him to take the two boys away.

"No matter much how they resist, do not put them in the same room. Do not let them be in the same place together. Ah, and gather some people so you do not injure either of them. You'll need another 4 or 5 men."

"But... Sir Norman..."

"Ah, that."

Flynn Gilbit had been wondering why they were looking at her oddly and it was because she had removed her mask.

She had worn the silver mask and depended on her butler, not speaking from her own mouth.

That had been the masked feudal lord, Norman Gilbit.

"... You wanted to be the feudal lord, right?" murmured the blond as he embraced the black-haired boy's head. Flynn shrank back a bit when his gaze fell upon her. "I won't let you use him for evil."

"It's not my intention to use him for evil."

"... Many humans become prideful after they gain power. However, if that power doesn't come from yourself, you have to just be satisfied by the 'things' that you gained from that power."

"Using his power is not part of my job."

"... How much do you all want? Land? People? Money? Oil?"

His right eye was blue, his left eye black as night.

Presumably it wasn't real. There couldn't be that many who had black hair and black eyes.

"Or do you want the world?"

When one wants the world, many things stand in their way.

Back to Chapter 7

Return to MA Series

Forward to Chapter 9