Hell Mode: Volume 11, page 24
“Ignomasu, Sir Allen would like to use your power against the Demon Lord Army,” Rapsonil said.
“What?! You want me to fight the Demon Lord Army?!” Ignomasu cried.
“I’ll have you help us battle the Demon Lord Army, which you faced a few days ago,” Allen explained. “Since you claim to be Prostia’s strongest, I want you to use your spear skills against the monsters. Or would you rather stay in the imperial capital’s prison?”
I bet you’ll probably get killed or imprisoned for life anyway. Why not stand on the front lines and fight with us? We’ve got an opening in the middle guard for you. Ignomasu bit his lip.
“Will you be a hero, or will you be reduced to a criminal who overthrew the empire and accept your judgment?” Allen asked. “The choice is yours, but you have to make it now.”
Ignomasu raised his head and glared at the Summoner. “Are you sure you want me in your army? I might try to kill you in your sleep. You should keep one eye open.”
“Yeah? Be my guest. By the time I’m finished with you, you’ll wish you’d stayed in prison.”
Every one of Allen’s words weighed heavily on Ignomasu, and he swallowed a nervous mouthful of water. He looked down at the floor as he mulled over his future, then slowly turned his gaze to Princess Rapsonil, who sat in the back, on the other side of the oval table.
“I’ll become a hero,” Ignomasu declared. “And I’ll return to Prostia with glory. Rapsonil, when that time comes, would you please give serious thought to marrying me?”
The merfolk were more surprised than by Allen’s previous remarks.
“Are you out of your mind?!” Rapsonil cried, unable to hide her anger. “Do you honestly believe I could ever forgive the man who killed my father?!”
Ignomasu was undeterred. “I don’t think you’ll forgive me. That’s why I’ve decided to fight the Demon Lord Army. If I die in battle, your empire will be saved from the trouble of executing me for my revolt. But I vow that I will return as a hero—as one who saved this world.”
Even Princess Rapsonil was at a loss for words, quietly ruminating over Ignomasu’s bold claim. Everyone else was silent as well, leaving only the sound of Krena’s voracious chewing to fill the room.
“I suppose Prostia is called the Nation of Love for a reason,” Allen said, switching subjects. “Not everyone can talk about love in this dire situation.”
Rapsonil narrowed her eyes and turned to the Summoner. “May I ask what you’re implying?”
“We actually came to this empire with several goals. One of them was to get a Tear of the Holy Fish Macris, a legendary item that was mentioned in Tales of the Prostia Empire. Pelomas here needs it as part of his quest for love. I’d greatly appreciate it if you could help out with his mission.”
“I see... Very well. I shall speak with Sir Pelomas at a later date regarding that as well.” Rapsonil fell silent and closed her eyes for a while before she opened them once more and focused on Allen. “Sir Allen, we have a few requests of our own. I hope you’ll consider them.”
“And what would they be?” Allen asked.
“First, I’d like to continue hosting the Songstress Contest—as soon as next year. I would like Lord Macris to visit us at that time, but I’ve heard that he lost his life due to the Demon Lord Army’s cheap tricks and has been revived under your command. Would you be able to convince him to visit our nation for the annual contest?”
“Sure. That’s easy enough.”
“Second, and this is the most important request...”
“Yeah?”
“I’d like you to include our empire in conferences held by the Five Continent Alliance. The Demon Lord Army destroyed our capital. We can no longer sit idly by while others fight to stop them.”
Rapsonil stared at the Summoner without saying a word. It reminded him of the time three days ago when Krena’s eyes had been filled with rage.
“Of course,” Allen replied with a nod. “I believe a conference will be held very soon. Please let me confirm their schedule.”
They want to work with the Five Continent Alliance, do they? Then I guess handing Ignomasu over to us will benefit them too. The Prostia Empire might have wanted to immediately sentence Ignomasu to death for his act of rebellion as a way to signal the end of an era and welcome the dawn of a new one. But a Spear King and the strongest man in Prostia was the perfect candidate for the fight against the Demon Lord Army, as well as a way to make a positive impression on the Five Continent Alliance. The empire needed to be rebuilt after the rebellion, and the new empress, thinking of the future, felt that Allen inviting Ignomasu to his army would benefit Prostia greatly.
“There’s no need,” Sophie interjected. “The next meeting will be held after the new year, in Lord Allen’s home of Ratash.”
Rapsonil widened her eyes. “Then I am allowed to join?”
“Certainly. I will prepare a seat for you.”
Allen nodded, happy to know that Sophie, who held more political pull than him, would act in his stead. And so, the No-life Gamers were able to successfully negotiate with the Prostia Empire following the revolt.
＊ ＊ ＊
December rolled around, marking a month since Allen’s battle against the Demon Lord in Patlanta. Count Granvelle had left the royal capital of Ratash and made it back to his home in Granvelle City. He had been promoted to a count earlier in the year, putting him among the ranks of the highest echelons of high society and permitting him to attend Five Continent Alliance conferences, the next of which would be held for the first time in Ratash, following the new year.
Count Granvelle had thus decided to spend the end of the year in the royal capital, but he had opted to greet the powerful people of his fief first—those who had supported him during his time as a destitute baron. A small gathering, perhaps fittingly referred to as a banquet, was being hosted in the banquet hall of a lavish inn located in a prime spot, facing the central square of Granvelle City, bordering the main streets that traveled in all four cardinal directions.
“Ah, Captain Zenof!” Chester said. “I hear you’ve become a baron! That’s wonderful news!”
Zenof was one of the supporters of the count and the very man who, with the help of the wealthy Chester, had booked this venue. The captain was accompanying the count to the inn.
“All thanks to my lord,” Zenof said.
The very moment Granvelle became a count, he had pleaded with the Ratashian royal family to confer a peerage onto Captain Zenof. It was customary for the knight captain of a high-ranking noble to be a baron, and naturally, Count Granvelle’s request was immediately granted. The captain of the royal knights generally held the rank of viscount or higher. Even if bestowing a peerage was not custom, Zenof had fought in the northern region of the Central Continent for the past decade, clashing with the Demon Lord Army, and had greatly contributed to the development of the Granvelle fief. His accomplishments were impressive, and no one had been against bestowing him a title. Count Granvelle, in particular, had wished to reward the captain. As the three men engaged in pleasant conversation, a certain woman piped up.
“Count Granvelle, may I have a word?” Fiona, Chester’s daughter, asked as she stood beside her father.
“Go on,” Count Granvelle said.
“Have Master Allen and his friends returned yet?”
“You ask of his friends as well, I see. I hear that they will be back soon.”
The count recalled that Allen had saved Fiona from a murdergalsh six years ago, prompting her to pursue him. It was a nostalgic memory. Pelomas, the son of the chief of Krena Village, had then asked to date Fiona with the intention of marrying her, and Chester had mentioned that the boy had become a splendid merchant befitting Fiona. The count smiled when he heard Fiona speak of Allen and his friends.
“Then...” Fiona started.
“But there is one who returned before the others,” Count Granvelle said. “Zenof, bring him in.”
The count believed that now was the perfect time to bring in a certain boy. He had spoken with Allen about this beforehand, and so Zenof left to retrieve that boy. Pelomas quickly emerged, dressed in the finest formal attire that Prostia had to offer. Princess Rapsonil even used her authority to have clothes tailored to fit Pelomas’s needs.
“Fiona! I’ve got the Tear of Holy Fish Macris!” the merchant cried. “Please marry me!”
Pelomas had returned, more dashing and handsome than ever before. His usual timid self was no more; he spoke loudly so that the entire venue could hear him. The powerful nobles of the Granvelle fief turned with surprise at the merchant’s outburst.
“Really?” Fiona asked faintly. She turned red and gazed at the ground, possibly from the attention she was attracting, or perhaps feeling bashful due to Pelomas’s words.
“R-Really! I’m not lying!” Pelomas insisted. “Could you come outside to the square? As promised, I’ll hand you a Tear that has never touched anyone else’s hands.” His face turned red, and he shouted, “If any of the nobles here wish to watch, I’d be very honored!”
He then turned around, his face still a bright scarlet, and confidently walked out of the inn.
“Then let us watch, shall we?” Count Granvelle offered as loudly as he could. He made sure to sound natural, speaking just as Allen had coached him.
Upon hearing the count’s words, his supporters elected to follow him and Captain Zenof outside. Only Chester and Fiona remained in the venue, neither having heard a word of this from Allen.
“What are you going to do, Fiona?” Chester asked gently.
Fiona fell silent and turned to face the ground.
“If you really don’t like the boy, feel free to reject him,” Chester said. “But...”
“Yes, father?” Fiona asked.
“That youngster has fulfilled every promise he’s made. He hasn’t broken a single one. Trust is everything for merchants like us, and while we always strive to keep our word, we’re forced to renege at times. But that young man has never done so. I know his character better than anyone, for he was the very person who triumphed over me, my dear.”
Fiona fell silent once more, and Chester decided to give his final words of advice to her, speaking from the bottom of his heart.
“I recall that you once mentioned that you liked strong men. No doubt he always wished to become one, but wishing for something doesn’t guarantee that it will happen. And yet, he has made it happen. That alone proves not only his physical strength, but the strength of his character as well. Surely you’re aware of that. Or have I raised my daughter to be an oblivious airhead?”
Fiona raised her head. Then, as Chester watched with a smile, she clutched the hem of her dress and rushed outside, not even bothering to grab her coat from the checkroom. Pelomas stood there, the orange, cloudy sky behind him as powdery snow fluttered down. A thin sheet of white had begun to cover the city square, but the merchant stood there proudly. Fiona slowly walked toward him while glancing at the crowd around them. In it, she spotted Allen, Cecil, and a couple of other familiar faces.
“Pelomas...” she murmured.
“I’m here to keep my word!” Pelomas shouted. “I’ll give you a Tear of the Holy Fish Macris, one that no one has ever touched before! Please accept it!”
“Really? Have you really, truly obtained a Tear of Holy Fish Macris?”
“I have. Really and truly. No one has touched it—not even me, in fact.”
“Huh? Whatever do you mean?”
“I...had Macris personally come here instead.”
He turned to the reddening sunset behind him and motioned a certain figure over. Fiona and the crowd all turned to look behind Pelomas, where they spotted something floating within the orange sky. At first, everyone thought it was a magic ship of sorts, but they were quickly proven wrong.
“What?!” Fiona gasped as she watched on.
The floating shadow got larger and larger the closer it drew. She had known even from a distance that it boasted impressive size, but when it finally appeared in front of her, she was astonished by the colossal, white whale swimming through the skies of Granvelle City.
“This is the Holy Fish, Lord Macris,” Pelomas said in a quivering voice.
“Where’s the guy called Pelomas?” Macris boomed as he turned his massive head toward the city. “Is he here or what?”
“Yes! I’m right here!”
“Then is the girl standing in front of you Miss Fiona, the one you’re in love with?”
“That’s right!”
Macris drew his face closer to the couple. “See, Pelomas here worked really, really hard and overcame his Trial, so I’m here to reward him! Miss Fiona, could you stick out your hand?”
Fiona’s eyes grew larger than saucers. She was unable to make heads or tails of this situation.
“H-Huh?!” she gasped. “What’s going on here?!”
“Fiona, could you put your hands out?” Pelomas asked. “Form a little bowl with them, like you’re trying to cup some water.”
“L-Like this?”
The girl’s hands trembled as she placed them in front of her chest. As soon as she did, Macris’s round, adorable eyes glimmered and grew damp. A single tear slipped out of one of them and slid down his cheek, falling faster than the snow dancing in the wind. His tear reflected the breathtaking, orange light that was so fiery that it could melt the cloudy skies. By the time it fell into Fiona’s hands, his tear had already turned into a clear crystal.
“I have hereby fulfilled my promise with the valiant Pelomas!” Macris shouted, his voice echoing throughout Granvelle City. “Pelomas, Fiona, I pray that the love between you lasts forever!”
Fiona could only stare at the glittering crystal in her hands, dumbfounded, before turning to face Pelomas, her eyes damp with tears of her own. He, too, turned his glimmering eyes to his beloved.
“Fiona,” Pelomas started, his voice trembling. “I promise to make you happy. Will you marry me?”
“I will,” Fiona replied as she wept.
Pelomas immediately pulled her in for a tight embrace, hugging her as she clutched the Tear in her hands.
“Eek?!” she shrieked.
“S-Sorry. I couldn’t help myself,” Pelomas replied, hastily freeing his beloved and stepping back. But then, Fiona jumped into his arms.
“Just be a bit more gentle, will you?”
“I will. I love you, Fiona.”
She closed her eyes and raised her face, planting a gentle kiss on his lips. The crowd went wild, their cheers filling the square as they rejoiced at the pair’s union. The couple turned toward the boisterous celebration, and a merfolk with orange hair, smiling in front of the reddening sky, began singing.
No one in Granvelle City had ever heard such a lovely voice before, and it was only accentuated by the band of merfolk creating a melody that accompanied her song. Elves, dark elves, beastkin, and dwarves appeared from every direction as they played their instruments, elevating the beauty of her singing. It’s thanks to a month of practice, Allen thought.
Rosalina happily sang her heart out along with the now-official Empress Rapsonil’s Prostia Empire Imperial Palace Band, as well as the residents of Hardcore User Island. Count Granvelle and the rest of Granvelle City’s residents came out and gathered around, seduced by the noise, and Allen gave a satisfied nod at the cheery scene.
“It went well,” Empress Rapsonil said from behind Allen. She leaned forward from within the heavy tank that someone carried for her.
“It did,” Allen agreed. “Empress Rapsonil, thank you so much for lending me the Imperial Palace Band. I’m very grateful.”
“Sir Pelomas is a hero of our empire,” the empress replied. “How could I have possibly refused his request?”
“He saved my brother as well,” Shia said, approaching them. “Without him, Beku would have been reduced to a fool of a beastkin who was enticed to betray his nation and work with the Demon Lord Army so that he might rule the world. He would have been hated by many, and if word about his acts had spread, we beastkin might have been oppressed by the world once more. And yet, my brother has become a hero who gave his life to offer even the smallest bit of resistance against the Demon Lord Army. It’s all thanks to Pelomas.”
Shia wished to show her gratitude, so when Allen had drawn up the plan for this grand proposal, she had asked the beastkin on Hardcore User Island to join in on the festivities. And when the beastkin had agreed, the elves, dark elves, and dwarves had requested to participate as well, prompting everyone on the island to start a month of practicing specifically for the occasion.
“Never would I have dreamed that a day would arrive where elves and dark elves played a song of love together,” Sophie said, deeply moved by the scene. “Pelomas is a hero to us as well.”
The two races had a history of fighting and discrimination, and for many years, negotiations had seemed like an impossible ordeal. Finally, the elves and dark elves were able to unite against a common enemy—the Demon Lord Army—but Sophie could not have imagined that they would come together to create a harmony of love so soon. I feel like this celebration has united the Allen Army and the soldiers of Hardcore User Island. They now share a bond that’s stronger than ever. Also, uh, isn’t Pelomas’s kiss lasting a little too long?
Allen watched on in a daze as Rosalina finished singing the “Theme of Love.” When she gave a bow, a thunderous applause filled the city.
“All right, let’s keep this energy going! We’re going to sing the ‘Harmony of Courage’!” Rosalina shouted.
Everyone instantly began the next song. This one had been meant to cheer Pelomas up had he been rejected.
“Let’s head back into the inn, Empress Rapsonil,” Allen said. “After we ring in the new year, the Five Continent Alliance will host its conference. Please enjoy everything Granvelle City has to offer until then.”
“I will,” Rapsonil replied. “Ignomasu, let’s go.”
“Yes, Your Majesty!” Ignomasu replied.
