Death March to the Parallel World Rhapsody - Volume 01 Page 5

  Aside from Zena and me, the city-bound wagon also carried the heavily armored soldier named Iona—who, when she took off her armor, was even more attractive than I’d imagined—and five or so other young soldiers.

  The young woman named Lilio and the other female bodyguard stayed behind with the rest of the troops. Apparently, they were going to wait for more carts to pick up the bodies of fallen soldiers and the wyvern, then return to their scheduled patrol.

  The severely injured had already gone ahead, so no one riding with us had any life-threatening injuries. The coachman was a civilian manservant.

  Man, I was glad they didn’t ask me to drive this thing.

  The wagon was moving slowly out of consideration for the wounded soldiers, but that meant you could jog just as fast. The city was about ten miles away, but it would probably take three or four hours to get there.

  A few carts carrying the fallen soldiers and the remains of the wyvern passed by us. “Do they use the wyvern carcass for something?” I asked.

  “Yes, they do. They process the hide to make cloaks and leather armor and such, which apparently sell at a high price, since they’re so sturdy. Some traders even buy the fangs and bones.”

  “Though now if there’s meat in the army’s rations, one can’t help but suspect it’s wyvern.”

  “Doesn’t taste good?” I asked.

  In response, the two soldiers only looked at each other and exchanged wry smiles.

  The man driving the wagon replied in their place. “It’s disgusting. Almost as bad as rats! It’s tough as wolf tendons and smells like a striped raccoon dog. Anyone who’s eaten it once ain’t gonna give it a second try, that’s for sure!”

  “Is it really that bad, sir?”

  “There’s no need to call a manservant like me ‘sir,’ young’un. But I hear that awful stuff is a right feast for west quarter dwellers and slaves. When the butcher gets a wyvern carcass, it’s like a festival outside the shop.”

  Slaves? There was a slavery system here?

  Nobody was going to try to enslave me or anything once we got to the city, right? A bit concerned, I took a look at the map as the conversation continued.

  Seiryuu City’s population was about 80 percent citizens and 20 percent slaves. Only a small fraction of the citizens were wealthy people like nobles and merchants or priests and priestesses. But the first thing I noticed as I looked at the map was that the inhabitants weren’t all humans.

  Ordinary humans, who were referred to as “humanfolk,” made up about 90 percent of the population. The other 10 percent were fairyfolk, like dwarves and gnomes, and beastfolk, like cat- and dog-people. I always thought elves were the quintessential fantasy race, but surprisingly, there was only one elf here.

  I saw a lot of races I’d never heard of, too—rare sorts like white-wing folk and leopard-people. I was surprised to find lizardfolk among them, too. Wasn’t that the same kind of creature that attacked me yesterday?

  I’d assumed all these races coexisted peacefully, like in that Western game series Airrim, but aside from the fairyfolk, it looked like most of the demi-humans in the city were slaves.

  There was even one individual called a “hell demon” living there. Overall, it seemed like a pretty diverse country.

  “Look, you can see the city now!”

  “Wow, is that the outer wall?”

  “Yes! It’s so solid, we don’t even worry about wyvern attacks!”

  The wall was certainly impressive. It looked like it encircled the entire city—so maybe it was more apt to call the place a fortress city.

  Made up of enormous stones, the city wall seemed at least a hundred feet tall, judging by the nearby trees. According to the information on the map, it was about ten feet thick, too, with passageways inside. There were towers around one hundred and fifty feet tall, where I could see soldiers positioned as sentries.

  “Do you know anyone in Seiryuu City, Satou?” Zena asked, probably bringing it up because we were now in sight of the city.

  “Oh, no, unfortunately. I was planning to just find an inn for now.”

  “In that case, I suggest the Gatefront Inn,” Iona said. “It’s a bit expensive, since it’s right by the city’s main gate, but it’s famous for its cleanliness and good food.”

  “That sounds great.” Cleanliness was definitely a must. Back in college, I’d traveled abroad on the cheap, staying in hostels, and I didn’t want any more bugs for roommates. Besides, trying new food was always one of the best parts of traveling. I’d bet anything there would be rye bread and salt-rich soups and other fantasy cuisine.

  That being said, as I was talking with Zena and Iona, a pair of male soldiers with relatively minor-looking injuries were boring holes into me with their eyes. They didn’t come over—maybe the jolting of the wagon had irritated their bone fractures—but I still would have preferred that they give it a rest with the openly jealous glares.

  If looks could kill, I’m pretty sure I would’ve been dead two or three times over.

  “Well then, Satou, please do stay at the Gatefront Inn. I want to come and thank you later.”

  “Oh, there’s no need for all that.”

  “Yes, there is! I swear on the Marienteil family name that I will find a way to thank you!”

  …She’d seemed like such a refined girl at first, but Zena was actually pretty intense. Even desperate, perhaps. If I were around her age, I’d definitely be getting the wrong idea about her feelings toward me here.

  Feeling a bit guilty about the injured soldiers, I promised to stay at the Gatefront Inn and parted ways with her at the entrance to the city.

  “Over here, please, Satou,” Iona called, leading me toward a guard station adjoined to the main gate. “Is the knight Sir Thorne here, by chance?” she asked a young sentry outside the station. The young man seemed flustered at being addressed by such a beautiful woman, and his face burned bright red as he called inside loudly for the knight in question.

  Iona thanked the sentry with an even expression and walked inside the station as comfortably as if it was the front door to her own home. I followed timidly behind her, like a duckling sticking close to its mother.

  It was a bit gloomy inside; there was only one tiny window for light.

  “It’s been a while, Sir Thorne.”

  “Oh, if it isn’t little Miss Iona! Is your old man still obsessed with his roses?”

  “You know I hate it when you say things like that, Thorne.”

  Clearly, this was an acquaintance of Iona’s. At almost six and a half feet tall, the enormous Sir Thorne could have been a half-giant.

  “Oh-ho! A younger man, eh? Nice clothes, but he’s kinda scrawny. You’ll have to put some meat on those bones if you want to be strong enough to protect our Iona!”

  Oh geez, it’s not like that at all! But I was in no place to reply with a huge hand smacking me on the back. I mean, sure, Iona was beautiful, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t find her attractive, but I don’t do well with the strong, calculating types. Besides, she’d never give me the time of day even if I tried, so my opinion was irrelevant from the get-go.

  “You misunderstand. This young man gave Zena some help earlier. He seems to have lost his identification papers, so I’d like you to reissue them.”

  “Ah, with the Yamato stone?”

  “Yes, if you wouldn’t mind.”

  I wish they’d stop using keywords I don’t understand. The room Sir Thorne led me to contained what looked like a twenty-inch LCD.

  “Right this way, sonny!” Thorne beckoned from behind the slate, and I went over to stand beside him. “Just to be sure, you’re not a wanted criminal or a thief, are you?”

  “No, of course not.” I’m just an ordinary guy, no crimes here.

  “All right, put your hands on top of the Yamato stone and tell it your name.”

  Was this a magical tool for checking someone’s criminal record? I did as I was told and put my palms down on the sla
te. Still, where did the name “Yamato” come from? Outer space?

  My name… Ichirou Suzuki? No, I had better say my character’s name.

  “Satou.”

  That seemed to be the right choice. A faint white light shone from the slate, and words started to appear. I had never seen this alphabet before, but I was able to read it with my “Shigan Language” skill.

  Crap, is it going to show my status screen? If they find out I’m level 310, it might cause an uproar… Wait, huh? That’s odd.

  “You can take your hands off now, son.”

  The information shown was very different from my own status screen.

  Race: human

  Age: fifteen

  Level: 1

  Affiliation: none

  Job: none

  Class: commoner

  Title: none

  Skills: none

  Bounty: none

  This was more like my stats from before I’d leveled up. An idea occurred to me, and I opened up the “networking info” screen from the menu. I was right: The information on this screen was what the Yamato stone had displayed.

  In the original game, that screen had just been for writing a profile that other users could see with tags, but this version was much more detailed. And you could probably change the contents manually, since each item had a drop-down box with the original value as the upper limit. You could even set your name, title, and skill to “none.”

  I could understand having no title or skill, but what was the point of making your name “none”? Telling everyone you didn’t want to socialize, maybe?

  “Hmm! So you’ve come of age, have you? I thought you were younger. You must still live a sheltered life to be level one as an adult.”

  Huh? He didn’t think I was an adult? Oh, right… I’d noticed earlier that I looked like I did when I started high school, hadn’t I?

  So fifteen was the age of majority in this country. I checked the information on the map with a perfunctory reply to the knight. Sure enough, most people who were level 1 were under the age of ten. When I looked up fifteen-year-olds, most were around level 3. So was everyone going to assume I had the life experience of a ten-year-old?

  As my mind wandered, Sir Thorne was using a quill pen to fill out a form with the information from the Yamato stone with surprisingly delicate handwriting. Finally, he wrote, VERIFIED BY: SEIRYUU COUNTY VASSAL SIR THORNE at the bottom and stamped a seal above my name.

  “Don’t lose it this time, got it? The reissuing fee is one silver.”

  The certificate was issued on what looked like Japanese paper. I was a little disappointed that it wasn’t on parchment, to be honest. Accepting the paper from him, I reached into my pocket and pulled one Shigan silver coin out of Storage. I had at least one hundred of every kind of coin in the Shigan currency, so change shouldn’t be a problem.

  “What, so you keep your money in your pockets? At least you’re cautious about that. Make sure you keep your ID there from now on, too!” Thorne turned toward Iona. “And the city tax?” he asked. Was there a tax just for entering the city?

  Apparently, the fee was normally one large copper for commoners, but according to Iona, they were going to waive the tax as thanks for saving Zena.

  “Take this, too. It’s your visa token. It’s good for ten days. If you want to stay longer, come back to this station or to the town hall in the central ward and apply for an extension. They’ll take care of the process at either place for three copper coins.”

  The object he gave me was a wooden tag with some information branded into it: a few numbers and the crest that I’d also seen over the main gate. The numbers seemed to indicate the length of my stay; of course, they were unfamiliar symbols, not any numerals I knew. One character seemed to symbolize one number, so it was probably safe to assume they worked the same way as Arabic numerals.

  “If it expires and you don’t apply for an extension, the guards can fine you a silver. And if you can’t pay that, you might end up as a slave, so be careful.” Sir Thorne’s warning sounded well practiced. I figured I’d better not forget it.

  Still, getting sentenced to slavery over an expired visa? That’s pretty harsh! It reminded me of the headhunters picking up homeless people in the Edo period in Japan.

  I put my visa token and ID papers into my Garage Bag. Naturally, once they were safely out of sight, I stowed them away in Storage.

  “Thank you very much.”

  “Think nothing of it, my boy. If you have any problems, go see the general merchant next to the guard station for advice. It won’t be free, but he’ll do you right.”

  With my business taken care of, I thanked the pair courteously and made to leave the station.

  “Satou, I’m terribly sorry, but I have further business with Sir Thorne, so this is where we part ways. That building there with the yellow signboard is the inn we talked about, so I doubt you’ll get lost on the way.”

  I looked in the direction Iona was pointing. Naturally, I was searching for a large billboard like you’d see in Japan, but I couldn’t find anything of the sort. Upon closer inspection, though, I saw a tiny wooden plank hanging from the doorway of a building that just looked like a house. Was that the “signboard”?

  I thanked Iona and headed toward the inn. I could hear her talking with Thorne inside the station as I walked away, but since it didn’t seem to have anything to do with me, I didn’t bother listening in.

  A City Stroll

  Satou here. Back in college, whenever I’d saved up enough money from my part-time job, I’d go on trips with my group of friends or my girlfriend. When you go abroad once in a while, you really start to appreciate Japan’s good points. I’ve never been anywhere with better service or cleanliness than Japan.

  With a big stretch, I took in all the exotic sights and sounds of the street.

  I hadn’t really noticed before, since I’d been taken straight to the guard station, but there was a semicircle of open space between the gate and the street with a radius of about sixty feet. I wasn’t sure if this clearing was to keep the bustle of traffic going in and out of the main gate from interfering with the rest of the town or more for military purposes.

  The city was made largely of stone, like the kind you’d see in a movie or a Western game. Even the passersby looked like designs I’d seen in game docs: men in tunics, women in old-fashioned dresses.

  It seemed like there was a large wealth gap here, too; I saw quite a few people wearing patchwork dresses or stained shirts and ripped trousers.

  Next, I turned my attention to the buildings. From where I was standing, most of them seemed to be two-story stone buildings. I did see some that looked like wood or brick, though.

  A tower peeked out beyond the roofs of the houses with a windmill attached to its pointed steeple; maybe it was a flour mill or something? All my knowledge about this stuff came from games and novels, so I wasn’t sure. I planned to stay here in the city for a while, so I’d check it out later.

  The street stretched out before me, continuing straight to the inner wall that I could just barely make out in the distance. The road itself was about twenty feet across. On the other side of the inner wall was what looked like a lord’s keep.

  Clearly, Seiryuu City was a bigger fortress city than I’d thought.

  It was an incredible sight! As a game programmer, there was no way I could not get excited about a fantasy scene like this.

  But was this spectacle really all part of a dream? I couldn’t shake the doubt from my mind. I certainly didn’t have the design sense to come up with such a realistic cityscape. Anything my mind would conceive would probably have a cheaper look, with vague details.

  If this really is a dream, it must be somebody else’s.

  And if so, whoever’s dreaming this definitely likes games. I hope they don’t do anything to mess with my sanity stat—

  My thoughts were abruptly cut off when something soft and warm suddenly assaulted my arm.


  “Hey, you there! You just came from the front gate, right? Right?! Instead of looking around with your mouth hanging open, you should come over to our inn if you haven’t chosen one yet! I’ll throw in a free meal or something!”

  “Wh-what…?”

  “Don’t worry about it! I can’t say we’re cheaper than the competition, but we’ve got clean beds and tasty food that’s made with love!”

  Hastily closing the map screen, I was greeted by the reddish-brown eyes of a very cute girl. A thin ribbon tied her tawny-brown hair into a side ponytail. She was too close for me to see her outfit very well, but she looked to be around middle school age; the AR display confirmed that she was thirteen, although the disproportionately ample chest pushing into me suggested otherwise.

  Still hanging onto my arm, the enthusiastic girl dragged me along. Maybe she was a barker or tout for attracting customers—something you rarely saw in Japan these days outside of school festivals.

  At any rate, before I knew it, she was dragging me into some kind of barroom. It seemed a little dark, although that might have been because we’d just entered from the bright street. A glance at the sign above the door told me this was the very place I’d been heading for—the Gatefront Inn.

  “Mom! Mommm! I got us a guest!”

  “Goodness, you’re so pushy! You shouldn’t harass people like that.” A well-built older woman emerged from the kitchen, scolding the young lady as she came up to the counter.

  Considering the soft warmth my arm had been treated to, I had no complaints about the aggressive advertising. Yep, it was worth it all right!

  The older woman at the counter had a lovely face, even if her figure had a rather large presence. She might be around thirty or so…? In that case, it was probably rude to call her an older woman, then. Let’s call her the landlady instead.

  An AR display popped up beside the landlady’s face when I looked at her. This dream just kept using game mechanics. The info screen that appeared was similar to the one I’d seen on the Yamato stone earlier, but the fields were a little different. This one seemed to show more specific information.