WorldEnd: What Do You Do at the End of the World? Are You Busy? Will You Save Us? Vol. 4 Read online

  She saw through his lie right away.

  Almaria’s real father was dead. Even when he was alive, he barely spoke to his daughter, much less fuss over her with gentle words.

  And yet, the girl clung to the lie.

  She searched for her “dad’s” hand and desperately gripped it with all she had. She wanted someone to stay by her side, so she leaned on whoever was there with her whole heart and soul. She searched for true warmth from a fake father.

  And sure enough, his warm hand tenderly squeezed the girl’s hand back.

  “D…ad…”

  Yeah?

  She called for him, and he responded.

  I’m happy, she thought.

  Someone was with her when she wanted them to be. She even had the twisted thought that perhaps if that was enough to make her happy, then there was nothing happier in the entire world.

  Later, this was how the boy in question talked about the night.

  He said it wasn’t too unusual a sight here at the orphanage. Losing parents and undergoing a sudden change in living arrangements were the main factors that caused their new family members to fall ill. He said he’d seen that happen to the kids countless times.

  In fact, it was pretty normal for kids to call out for their moms and dads when that happened.

  Everyone there had lost all the family they ever knew before coming to a place full of strangers. Of course they’d be unhappy. It was unreasonable to think they could just power through it all. So at night, when they’re drained both physically and emotionally, the words slip from their mouths. It wasn’t unusual at all. It was a path that everyone at this orphanage had walked before.

  So she needn’t think of it as something embarrassing or shameful. He told her he would forget all about it and that she should, too… The boy waved his hand lightly as he said all that stuff.

  “…No.”

  Almaria rejected his goodwill with such certainty that it even surprised herself.

  He was so warm, you see. He had been so reassuring. So kind. She didn’t want to pretend like such a precious memory of hers never happened for the stupid reason that it was expected, that it happened all the time.

  “I would hate to forget all that…Dad.”

  The boy scrunched up his face.

  Seriously, if you’re going to call me anything, it’d better be Big Bro, ’cause I don’t wanna be anyone’s dad at this age—the boy sheepishly started to ramble on. He certainly didn’t exude any dignity or presence that would warrant anyone calling him “Father” at the moment, but—

  “But, Willem, you don’t strike me as a big brother at all.”

  Yeah, so then, doesn’t that mean I’m even less like a dad?!

  “That’s different.”

  It’s the same! Why are you so obsessed with the idea of treating me like your parent?

  “Well, that’s…”

  After a moment of thought, she said:

  “A secret.”

  Like a spoiled child, she closed one eye and stuck out her tongue.

  She opened her eyes.

  She passed the time gazing blankly in the darkness at the ceiling before her.

  She could hear the faint sounds of birds coming from beyond the window. Dawn is breaking soon, she thought.

  “Mm…”

  She felt like she had just been in a long dream.

  She also got the sense that she hadn’t totally woken up from it yet.

  It hadn’t been a bad dream… Or it hadn’t felt like one. At the very least, it was different from the nightmare that she suffered from when she was little.

  Her head was heavy. She couldn’t think well.

  She quickly sat up in bed, lightly shook her head, and slipped on her slippers. Still in a dreamy state of mind, she left her room. The tattered wooden floorboards creaked beneath her steps as she walked down the hall.

  Then…

  “Oh—”

  She saw him in the room.

  There was familiar black hair and serene features. His tall and lanky body seemed too big for the worn sofa he lay on.

  “…Dad?”

  At that moment, her consciousness snapped into clarity, like the dawn parting the morning mist.

  She remembered who she was, why she’d come to this room, and what it was she had to do next.

  “No, wait.”

  She doubled back to the hallway, her slippers pit-pattering against the floor.

  Morning at the orphanage was busy. There was lots she had to do. She wanted to open all the windows before the sun rose, and she had to get preparations for breakfast ready before the little ones woke up. And since one of the family was home unexpectedly, she wanted to make breakfast just a little fancier than usual.

  Today would probably be the first busy day in a long time.

  “You should at least send word before you come home, you stupid father figure.”

  He would wake up soon enough. Then the first words out of his mouth would be a complaint that he was hungry.

  It was always that way. She doubted if he was actually hungry, but her dad would always ask for food after coming home. It was like he was trying to make up for the days he was away all at once.

  “All right. I suppose we’ll get this started.”

  She chuckled softly and pulled out her favorite apron.

  2. The Foreigners

  Willem knew he couldn’t fight anymore.

  He would die if he forced himself onto a battlefield. He was full and ready for that.

  He had accepted all these facts in a positive manner. The girls would head to battle. He would send them off from a safe place—he was okay with that, too.

  And yet.

  When a Beast attacked the airship Plantaginesta, naturally, he chose to fight. He chose to leave Chtholly as she slept, set his venenum aflame, and concentrate on nothing but pummeling his enemies.

  Rhantolk, whom he had met on the battlefield, characterized his actions as “trying to commit suicide with Chtholly as the excuse.” And that was probably the most accurate way to describe him at that time.

  As Willem killed his enemies, he was killing himself.

  He held on tightly to his decision to keep the girls safe even as he gave up on everything else.

  He used the battlefield for his self-centered wish. He squashed his own resolution of being the one to wait for the girls to come home.

  He did what he could. He also did things he shouldn’t have been able to do.

  For the first time in a long time, he set his venenum ablaze at full strength. His blood churned, and he heard his flesh burning right in his ear. If fighting would kill him anyway, then there was no point in holding back. And if he wouldn’t be able to fight anymore, then it didn’t matter how hard or painful it was. He would run wilder than he had ever before.

  His wish should have come true.

  Willem Kmetsch, second enchantments officer of the Winged Guard and manager of the faerie warehouse, should have lost his life in the intense battle.

  The birds were singing. It was a nice morning.

  “Yawn… Hah.”

  Willem sat on the roof of the orphanage and bit back his yawn.

  With his eyes watering slightly, he examined his surroundings.

  Before him was a familiar townscape, as he always remembered it.

  The greenery he could see in the distance was the Adams’ shared farmland. Sitting stoutly just in front of that was the chapel. The colorful brick roofs scattered about the area were all cheap apartments, and the red flag waving in the wind at the very edge of the residential cluster was the sign of the Adventurers Guild. Even farther away, past the irrigation canal, was the Gomag city center.

  Smoke rose from several chimneys.

  The people living in this world were getting ready for breakfast.

  Right. These people were getting ready to live through the day.

  Of course, none of this could be real.

  The land, along with the rac
e of the emnetwiht who thrived on it, had been destroyed long ago.

  The history books said it had taken place over five hundred years ago. The invaders, the Beasts, appeared right in the middle of the emnetwiht empire, just by the royal castle.

  These beings were incredibly strong, their numbers were great, and they were fast. These invaders were too quick for any military in history to do anything about them, and they tore into the world. In a few scant days, several of the major city-states established by the empire had vanished.

  It wasn’t only the emnetwiht who disappeared. Everything on the earth was indiscriminately swallowed up: grass; trees; animals; bugs; any races that were hostile toward them, like the elves. Everything—as though just existing was a sin in and of itself—was devoured.

  The real surface was now nothing more than a dried-up wasteland occupied mostly by gray sandstorms.

  The very few who survived followed the Great Sage’s lead and escaped to the floating islands in the heavens. There, they established a meager society already in decline. And of course, the races that didn’t survive never even had that option.

  “Damn it.”

  Willem cursed quietly under his breath so no one could hear.

  The emnetwiht are gone. My hometown doesn’t exist anymore. He told himself this over and over again. The scenery before him was like a diary—just something for him to recall memories of days gone by, to let him wallow in nostalgia.

  This wasn’t where he was supposed to return to. His home was far above in the sky.

  “It’s so big.”

  A murmur.

  He could hear Nephren sitting right beside him, murmuring in the official language of the Regule Aire island cluster.

  “What island is this?”

  “Why are you asking me?”

  “Because you look like you know.”

  She said it in a way that made it strangely hard for him to either confirm or deny.

  “…This is the Imperial city of Gomag, and beneath us is the Foreigner Memorial Orphanage. How thaaankful we are to have an orphanage established and supposedly operated by the great eighteenth Legal Brave, Nils D. Foreigner.”

  Nephren, who rarely ever showed expression, seemed somewhat quizzical.

  “Operated by a Brave? I’ve never heard of that before… By Imperial, do you mean Island No. 6?”

  “There’re no Braves in Regule Aire, y’know. We’re on the surface.”

  Nephren’s expression grew even more confused. It was sort of amusing.

  “You know both Braves and the surface don’t exist anymore, right?”

  “That’s the problem. The land was destroyed five hundred years ago.” Willem checked around them as he answered. “But this is, without a doubt, the scenery of my hometown just as I remember it.”

  Nephren followed his gaze.

  “…This is the surface from long ago?”

  “Yep.”

  “So that means there’s no land underneath this?”

  “Of course not.”

  It wasn’t much of a question, but he understood what she meant.

  Nephren was a modern kid, born and raised on Regule Aire. And so, the idea that what she saw before her could exist only on an island of limited space was common sense imprinted in her mind. A short walk would bring her to the edge, and peering down, she would be able to see the gray expanse of the surface below. That sense was embedded into her.

  Even if she understood it logically as fact, an endless fertile land was beyond her imagination.

  “That mountain looks really far away, though.”

  She pointed off into the distance.

  “Yeah, it is. From here to there’s about the same distance as Island No. 68 from end to end.”

  “And the ground keeps going beyond that?”

  “Yeah. There’s a pretty big town about a two day’s cart ride out. And past that…” The map of the Empire spread out in his mind. “…is mostly farmland for a while, and then on the other side of the river is a big forest that eventually leads into a mountain range… That’s about where our war zone with the elves starts.”

  “…I feel a little sick.”

  “Yeah, I know. It happens when you think about something that goes against all logic.”

  “But the surface was destroyed.”

  “Yep.”

  “Then what kind of trick is this?”

  “It’s…probably…”

  As he answered, Willem checked his chest. He could see the piece of metal hanging from a string around his neck was faintly glowing with the light of venenum.

  It was a talisman with the power of language comprehension. It activated with the slightest bit of venenum from the wearer and conveyed others’ intentions via the medium of words.

  It was an extremely handy little thing, but it had its drawbacks.

  Understanding language didn’t always bring about good outcomes. There were “attacks,” like lies and abuse, that first had meaning through being transmitted. So understanding every language meant that these “attacks” hit hard. Since it indiscriminately allowed all outside messages to pass through while the talisman was active, resistance to spirit-interference attacks dropped dramatically. It hadn’t been a problem living on Regule Aire, so he had totally forgotten about it.

  The talisman was ignoring Willem’s will and acting in this manner.

  “…A dream, maybe.”

  She trained a sharp, cool gaze on him.

  “Wait, not like that. Of course, it’s not just a regular dream; I mean we might be under the influence of an attack with that kind of ability.”

  Willem was once active as a Quasi Brave all across the globe, and he had fought a demon like that.

  Demons were a spirit race that evolved specifically to drag virtuous emnetwiht into depravity. They had plenty of tricks to entice their targets to abandon their self-control or convictions. One of their tricks was a type of spiritual attack that used a dreamworld.

  “It’s a specially made dreamworld that’s a reflection of the target’s memories, designed to be infinitely similar when compared to what they perceive as reality. The only goal is to make the target be completely comfortable living in this world. Be careful—the second you give up on the will to get outta here, that means they win.”

  “Then this dream is exactly like the surface from long ago.”

  “It probably thinks this scenery is enough to beat me.”

  It was actually a very effective attack. Just by sitting and looking around, Willem worried his heart might melt from nostalgia and longing… But as long as he was conscious of it, he could resist. He could steel himself and keep himself from giving in to the temptation.

  “A dreamworld…”

  Nephren murmured, cautiously reaching up to pinch her own cheek.

  Her soft-looking skin stretched out far.

  “Ouch. Is this really a dream?”

  He could see her eyes watering slightly.

  “Its selling point is a dream you can’t wake up from, so it’s not gonna break that easily.”

  “Then what would happen if we sat here and did nothing?”

  “Our enemy’s goal is to convince us to live at ease in this world. So it’ll play with the world and reach out to us.”

  “Play with it?”

  “It’s the creator of this world, right? Apart from meddling with us directly, it can do whatever it wants using the memories as base material. There were demons who specialized in this kinda temptation. They had plenty of ways of doing stuff. Aeshma cause everyone to die one by one, but bufas demons will come attack you directly, while ammon demons try to get you with loads of gold and treasures and stuff. And I fought with a succubus once…”

  Succubi were the kind of demon who tried to drag emnetwiht into depravity by forcibly granting sexual wishes. So when Willem had been trapped in that dream, the world was filled with those kinds of temptations.

  It was hard to explain that in detail to a little girl
.

  (I couldn’t look Lillia or Emissa directly in the eye for a while after that…)

  “Well, forget about that one.”

  “What kind of dream did the succubus show you?”

  Nephren tilted her head. Please don’t be curious about this.

  “We will forget about that one.”

  He forcibly changed the subject.

  “I don’t know what the enemy is, but I’m pretty positive that I’m the target.”

  It was hard to imagine that Nephren here…was a fake, a part of the dream. She was too out of place for the past-surface setting. He was pretty positive that she was the real thing but had somehow gotten mixed up in this whole ordeal.

  “So as long as I hold on to the desire to get out of here, it’ll make adjustments to the world to break me. That’ll be our chance. That’s when we’ll track down the enemy’s true form and move to counterattack.”

  “Do we have to counterattack?”

  “Of course we do. If we just sit like this forever, we’ll never get out.”

  “Do we have to get out?”

  ………………

  “If we get out, both you and I will die immediately.”

  She was probably right.

  Their spirits had been caught in the instant before their death in the real world and were now in this dream. It was a distinct possibility that their bodies in reality were now nothing more than corpses.

  Or maybe all the time they spent in the dreamworld would be nothing more than a fraction of a second in the real world. In that case, it was possible that escaping would return them to bodies just barely alive. But even then, he could easily imagine that they’d still reach the same end just a few seconds later.

  “We have nowhere to return to.”

  “…That’s not the problem, okay?” Willem protested, as though trying to convince himself. “Don’t get weird ideas in your head. Once you lose the will to get out, you’ll end up living in this dream forever. I might be the enemy’s target, but that doesn’t mean you’re safe, okay?”

  “…Okay.”

  Nephren nodded and fell silent.

  He wondered what was up.

  She had always been an otherworldly girl, whose strange actions and words stood out—but the sense of unease he felt about her now was different than usual. Her expression was as vacant as it always was, but he could just barely make out the emotions lurking beneath.