Death March to the Parallel World Rhapsody Read online

  Uh, what do I do now?

  We’d been drinking together as the woman relayed tales of the royal capital and her journey to Seiryuu City, but it seemed I’d made two grave miscalculations.

  First, apparently my high level made my tolerance to alcohol quite strong. I’d felt mildly intoxicated when I drank the mead, but it seemed to wear off pretty fast. I’d even picked up an “Alcohol Resistance” skill somewhere along the way. Luckily, perhaps because the mead was watered down, I hadn’t gotten an Alcoholic title or anything like that.

  The second miscalculation was that the woman drinking alongside me was now leaning heavily over the table. If this had been a college mixer, I might have thought of bringing her home, but I could see that was wrong now, especially since she was recently widowed.

  Instead, I waited until Martha had a free moment and asked her to guide me to the woman’s room so I could carry her to the bed. I wouldn’t have been able to fit up the cramped staircase if I’d carried her bridal-style, so I had to sling her over my shoulder instead.

  “What a gentleman you are, Mr. Satou!”

  “Oh, not at all.” I bade the admiring Martha good night and returned to my room.

  I could still feel the pleasant warmth of the woman I’d carried on my back.

  Taking off my robe and placing it in Storage, I dove into bed.

  Man, this inn was a good choice. The food was delicious, the bed was clean, the staff was adorable, and the woman in the neighboring room was beautiful. This was much better service than I’d come to expect from my dreams.

  The surprisingly comfortable bed seemed like it should put me straight to sleep, but the excitement of the day and my conversation with the beautiful woman kept me up for a while. As I waited for sleep to come, I started playing back in my head the events of the dream so far.

  The lizardmen and dragons I defeated with the Meteor Showers. I hadn’t been able to see the dragons, but the lizardmen had been realistic enough to make all of Hollywood weep for joy. This dream of mine had an impressive attention to detail.

  The battle between the count’s army and the wyvern. The encounter with Zena and her comrades was intense enough for an RPG commercial. I’d committed a hit-and-run by mistake, and now that wyvern was probably in little Yuni’s stomach.

  The streets and people of Seiryuu City. Ever since my arrival, the realism of the city streets and the variety of outfits the people wore had amazed me. The disparity of wealth in the city, the different kinds of clothing for different occupations, the patchwork clothes and dirty shoes—there was such immense variety that it was hard to believe this was a dream. I wish Mr. Tubs would step it up and put the same level of effort into his setting designs.

  And the food I’d had earlier. The mead, which I’d never tasted before, was delicious, and the wild boar steak was absurdly good. It would be no exaggeration to say the combination of the steak and my first-ever rye bread was probably the best thing I’d ever eaten. I had never had meat like that in Japan. My subconscious had a better imagination than I’d thought, inventing all these scenes, languages, and even tastes I’d never experienced before.

  …Hmm.

  The realization had been slowly sinking in all along, but putting it together now… There is no way I can go on calling this a dream.

  When had I first gotten the sense that something was off? I’d definitely felt it when I saw the realistic detail of the city streets, but even the people I’d met along the way hadn’t looked or thought like anyone from the stories or games I knew.

  And I didn’t know anything about phrases like trimoon or Zena’s father’s full rank, a hereditary knight, which was apparently different from a regular knight or viscount. I had a feeling there was just too much information in this dream that didn’t come from my own knowledge.

  The most extreme cases of this were the languages, like Shigan and the “ancient scalefolk language.” Even when I was in middle school with delusions of being a sorcerer, I’d never created my own language. At best, I’d patched together words from foreign languages.

  And that food! I’d had quiche before, so my afternoon meal could have been my imagination, but I had no idea what mead tasted like, and if I was able to invent a taste as incredible as that wild boar, I might as well just start living in my dreams.

  At any rate, I didn’t have enough information to figure out how I’d ended up in this situation, so I put that question on hold. I still couldn’t entirely dismiss the possibility that this was a dream, but for now, my best bet was probably to assume this was some kind of gamelike parallel world.

  As for my current course of action, I figured I might as well continue enjoying my travels here while still looking for a way back home.

  Yep, sightseeing was the primary goal.

  Of course, it wasn’t like I didn’t want to ever return to my normal routine, but hey, I was in another world! I wanted to live it up as much as possible and use my experiences as inspiration for my work as a game creator.

  Besides, we’d already turned in FFL, and all that was left to do for WW were some numerical adjustments. And there was perfect documentation for that already, so I was sure even Mr. Tubs could take care of it somehow if it came to that.

  I might get fired for taking time off from work without permission, but luckily, my old coworkers who had retired could always lend me some cash. I’d get by just fine until I found another job.

  And as for my personal life, my girlfriend had long since dumped me, and my parents were happily living in the countryside with my older sister and her husband. My family’s pretty laid-back, so even if I disappeared for a while, I doubted they’d worry much.

  My sister might get mad at me, but she did take over my old room with great pleasure the second I moved to Tokyo and all, and I was sure I could get back on her good side with tales of my travels.

  And if, for any reason, it turned out that I couldn’t return to my own world, it didn’t seem like I’d have too much trouble getting by here; the only things that could threaten my peaceful existence were probably demon lords or gods.

  Surely, as long as I kept living quietly, beings like that would have no reason to go out of their way to mess with me. I could just go on seeing the sights and living a modest life.

  I was afraid that if I started picking fights and throwing around barrages of Meteor Showers, it would raise an event flag for me to become a huge demon lord myself. And I certainly wasn’t looking to cause any (additional) mass genocides in the first place.

  Peace was the priority, after all.

  Date

  Satou here. I’ve always been relatively popular with younger girls, but I make sure it never goes any further than friendship, and I’ve never dated any of them. Whenever I fall in love with someone, for some reason it’s always an older woman.

  I awoke to the loud noise of someone rudely knocking on my door.

  “Mr. Satou, are you awake?”

  “Yeah, I am now.”

  A slim ray of sunlight snuck in through a crack in the closed-up window. It was the sole window in the room, big enough only to peek your head through, without any glass. Maybe it was just for ventilation? I remembered that Martha had advised that I close it overnight to prevent crime.

  I did a quick check of my appearance before heading to the door. A whole night had passed, yet there wasn’t any stubble on my face. Oh, right, I couldn’t grow any facial hair when I was fifteen. When it finally happened after I started college, I was so thrilled that I went around showing it off to everyone.

  …Though my girlfriend at the time immediately told me to shave it.

  I didn’t have any bedhead, either, so I put on the white embroidered robe I’d bought yesterday and left my room.

  “Good morning.”

  “If you don’t hurry up, your girlfriend’s going to come looking for you!”

  Excuse me? My girlfriend dumped me over six months ago because I was too busy with work, you know. And I knew
virtually no one in this city to begin with.

  When I followed Martha downstairs, I found the magic soldier Zena waiting for me. “Good morning, Satou!”

  “Oh, good morning. That’s a very cute outfit you’re wearing today.” Zena must have been off duty, because she wasn’t in her uniform. Instead, she wore a white blouse with a light-blue skirt, with a somewhat large yellow-green shawl over her shoulders. It wasn’t particularly fashionable, but on Zena, it gave a neat and wholesome impression.

  Must be nice, being a pretty girl.

  Didn’t she sprain her ankle? Is she all right walking around like that?

  “Is your leg doing better now?”

  “Yes, a priest at Garleon Temple healed it for me yesterday!”

  Ah, so a priest healed it. That’s fantasy for you! It must have been Holy Magic or something.

  “And, um, since I’m off duty today…I thought maybe…that is, um…I could show you around the city…!” She looked like she was going to faint. No need to be so tense…

  I must have made a strange face as I suppressed my amusement at her anxious gestures, because her face started to fall.

  Oh dear.

  “Thank you very much! I’d certainly appreciate that.”

  “Really? Great!” Zena rewarded my acceptance of her offer with a huge smile, like a blooming sunflower.

  Yep, her youthfulness was blindingly radiant, all right.

  I washed my face and set out with Zena.

  She suggested we get breakfast from the food carts at the morning market on South Street. I guess she had no reservations about going there, despite being the daughter of an aristocrat.

  Carried by the wind, the scent of soy sauce tickled my nose.

  “Is that soy sauce I smell…?”

  “That’s right! It’s one of the two great seasonings created by the ancestral king Yamato. It’s even exported to other countries! Did they not have it where you came from, Satou?”

  “They did—I just haven’t smelled it in a long time.”

  “Ohh, I see!”

  I wondered if Yamato was written with the same kanji as the old name for Japan. Was the other “great seasoning” miso, perhaps?

  Zena beckoned me over toward a cart where they were cooking something in oil. Croquettes, maybe?

  “Good morning! Two Seiryuu croquettes, please.”

  “Certainly! Just a moment.”

  It seemed like the oil was made from tallow; the smell was awfully intense.

  “Miss Lilio isn’t with you today?”

  “She just got back from a long expedition yesterday, so she’s still asleep in her room.”

  The man gave Zena two croquettes wrapped in leaves, and she held one out to me. They were a copper coin each, so while her hands were still full, I paid the vendor myself.

  “Wait, I wanted to treat you as thanks for yesterday!”

  “No, no, it’s fine. You’ve done more than enough already by bringing me to the city and helping me get settled.”

  We sat on a stone bench near the cart to eat our croquettes. The bench was a bit dirty, so I took out a pair of handkerchiefs and spread them on the bench before we sat down.

  Zena giggled. “I feel a bit like a princess.” Looking pleased and a little embarrassed, she took tiny, delicate bites of the croquette in her hands. I admired the scene as I ate my own croquette.

  The deep-fried, meatless potato croquette was pretty good, but it was a little too heavy, maybe because of the oil. I got the feeling that if I ate more than two, I’d have heartburn for the rest of the day.

  “Lilio’s boyfriend is actually the one who popularized the Seiryuu croquette.”

  “Oh? Is he a chef?”

  “No, not exactly. He can’t really cook himself, but he knows how a lot of things are made. It’s very unusual.”

  Hmm. I know it’s bad to jump to conclusions, but that sounded like a Japanese person to me. It seemed like other Japanese people had come to this world, too, like that “ancestral king Yamato.” Maybe there was an easy way to get here and back, like walking through a wardrobe or something.

  I finished eating first, and as I sat there idly, a little girl with flowers in a small wicker basket approached me. She stopped in front of me, holding out one small blossom.

  “Excuse me, sir! Buy a flower, please?”

  The little girl had been glancing in my direction repeatedly for a while, so she must have waited till I finished eating to take her chance. Pretty smart for such a young girl.

  “Sure, I’ll buy one. How much?”

  “It’s one penny.”

  I handed her the asking price and received a flower in return. The girl thanked me happily before racing off to find her next prospective customer.

  I handed the flower to Zena—after waiting for her to finish eating her croquette and wiping her hands clean, of course. She looked unusually surprised. Uh, what else was I going to do with it?

  “Um…are you sure it’s okay for me to take it?”

  “Of course. It would trouble me if you didn’t.”

  I mean, I’m not gonna throw it away.

  Zena smiled like she was trying in vain to disguise her happiness. Is it really that big of a deal? Well, I’m glad she’s happy about it, I guess.

  I bought some melon-like fruit cut into bite-size slices to clear my palate, then tried some kind of plant stalks fried with soy sauce. I was a bit doubtful based on their looks, but they turned out to be perfectly tasty.

  The next cart that Zena brought me to, however, was even more off-putting.

  “These are called dragon wings! They’re fried bat wings coated in black miso sauce. It’s a Seiryuu City specialty!”

  So did dragon wings look similar to bat wings? Apparently, this food was supposed to bring good luck. Zena promised they tasted better than they looked, so I trusted her and bought two.

  As I was paying for our wings, I heard Zena let out a short cry behind me.

  “Sorry, lady!”

  A kid had bumped into Zena as he ran by. That was fine in itself, but unfortunately, the goopy miso sauce from the dragon wing had gotten all over Zena’s white blouse.

  “The blouse I borrowed from my mother…,” she whispered, her eyes filling with tears. Maybe if we went to Teputa Avenue we could find someone to remove the stain?

  “Excuse me? I couldn’t help but notice your troubles. Are you by chance in need of a charmer?”

  “Sorry, but what we need is a laundromat where we can get out this stain.” Why is this person peddling charms or whatever at a time like this? Be a little more sensitive.

  “Well, you see, I happen to be skilled at Everyday Magic. I could use it to clean that stain.”

  Oh, so that’s what a charmer does? Her perfect timing was awfully suspicious, but for the moment, getting rid of the stain was the top priority. “Please do, then.”

  “Certainly. That’ll be three large coppers for the cleaning-and-drying spell set.”

  I didn’t want to bother with haggling, so I simply paid her the three coins to work her magic.

  “Now then, first I’ll remove the stain… Soft Wash Juusenjou!”

  The Everyday Magic cast on Zena left her sopping wet. The chest wrap that she wore in place of a bra was showing through her now-transparent shirt, so I quickly pulled a largish towel out of Storage and put it around her shoulders. I heard a few grumbles of disappointment from some unsavory men around us, but I ignored them.

  The sticky miso stain that had been on Zena’s blouse moments ago had vanished completely. Just like magic!

  “And now I’m going to dry you off… Dry Kansou!”

  Just as if it’d been put through a drying machine, the blouse was suddenly free of water. Once I checked that her shirt was no longer see-through, I reached out to take back the towel. My hand must have entered the field of the drying spell when I did so, because I suddenly felt dry warmth and static as if I’d put my hand in a dryer.

  > Skill Acqui
red: “Everyday Magic”

  Wow, that’s all it took for me to learn it? Magic skills are super easy to pick up.

  That being said, the incantations seemed much harder to learn, so maybe it balanced out.

  As soon as the spells were finished, the young charmer girl vanished into the crowd.

  Well, I have a magic user with me right here, so maybe she can tell me about it. If I could learn Everyday Magic, I could use that in place of a washer and dryer.

  “Zena, how do you recite the incantations for spells?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, the pronunciation seems pretty strange to me…”

  “I see… Well, most Wind Magic spells start with . If I had to sound it out, it’d be something like ‘lyuuu lia (etc.)…laaa luleli laaaao,’ maybe? But even if they can memorize them, most beginners still can’t sing the incantations at first. It’s…”

  Zena tilted her head pensively, trying to figure out how best to explain it.

  “…rhythm. Yeah, that’s it. You take that slow chant I said before and sing it to a steady rhythm. And if you keep that rhythm and increase the tempo, you’ll have ! In theory, anyway.”

  Curious, I tried to practice the phrase she’d taught me, but after a few minutes, I had the feeling I wasn’t going to get anywhere. “That’s pretty difficult.”

  “Well, yes, of course it is! It normally takes years to learn the incantations.”

  “How many years did you have to study before you could use Wind Magic, then, Zena?”

  “Technically, I’d say about three years of training. But thinking about it now, it feels like I’ve been training to be a sorcerer every day of my life.”

  What did that mean? The faintest trace of a shadow, or maybe bitterness, clouded Zena’s usually bright smile. “For starters, I had children’s books about the history of magic read aloud to me, practiced reading poems aloud and abdominal breathing… I had toys that taught me the flow of magic, too. From lessons to playtime, everything was designed to help me grow into a sorcerer.”