chapter02 · 066-ep58
Episode 58: The Old Butler Almost Says 'Young Master'
Finals were over without incident.
No failing grades. In math, I came third in the class. Yano hadn't messed up the graph-shift question, and Kuzumi apparently got his personal best in chemistry.
And then, mid-July.
Summer break was almost here.
Saturday morning, I stood in front of the Shidami dungeon.
The stone door in the side-chamber tomb of the burial mound. Three weeks since I'd last been here.
Since the day I called Vira, finals studying had kept me from coming.
"Long time no see."
After saying it to the door, I held up my Guild card.
I went down the stairs to the tenth-floor stone chamber. The wide chamber where I'd beaten the Haniwa Shogun last time. Past that point, I still hadn't been.
I stopped in front of the stone door on Floor 11.
No sign of anyone.
"Right."
Today had two purposes.
One: push past Floor 11.
The other:
I opened 【Vault of Tomes】 and took out the Executives' volume.
The Second Seat's page.
A pencil concept drawing of an old butler.
White hair. Tall. Back ramrod straight. A calm smile on a face carved deep with wrinkles. A tailcoat, white gloves. From his hands, a single fine thread hung down.
Beside it, notes in my handwriting were lined up.
"The butler fights with threads (because it's cool)"
"His laugh is 'foh-ho-ho' (because it's butler-ish)"
"Insanely good at brewing tea"
"The scariest one when angry (but he never gets angry)"
"Looks after every one of the Executives (the grandpa position)"
"The grandpa position."
Was the me of back then looking up to grandpas? That's pretty distinguished taste, me.
Wilhelm von Aschenbach.
The butler who had served that house since the days when Vira was a hero. When Vira chose the King, he chose to serve the King as well.
The boss of the Shadow Servants.
I remembered asking the Shadow Servant at Toda during Golden Week, "You don't have to report the dual-sword parts."
What was that pause about?
It got reported, didn't it. Probably.
"Let's call him."
The instant I decided, words came flowing into my head.
About as long as Vira's. Five lines carved themselves into the margin of the volume.
Standing in the middle of the stone chamber, I held out my right hand.
"—The shadow of the swallowtail coat, the fingertips of white gloves — he who commands the room with a single bow."
A line of light ran across the stone floor.
"—One stitch mends the rent. One thread re-sews destiny."
The lines drew circles. One ring. Two. Three.
"—The knot that will not come untied is the bond with my lord; the thread that will not be cut is the road home to the manor."
Silver light brimmed inside the magic circle. Fine threads of light crossed and recrossed above it.
"—Tehom Rabbah, Second Seat."
"—Come forth, 'Wilhelm von Aschenbach.' Serve at my side!"
The magic circle burst.
When the light settled, an old man stood there.
Slicked-back white hair. A tailcoat without a single wrinkle.
The same as the concept art.
The same, and yet far taller than the art, and with far more class.
He was the real thing. A butler.
The old butler slowly placed a hand to his chest and bowed — deep, deep.
The angle of his head was exactly forty-five degrees.
"—It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."
A low, calm voice.
"I am Wilhelm von Aschenbach, Second Seat of Tehom Rabbah. I pray you will keep me in your favor hereafter, young m—"
There the words stopped dead.
"......"
"......"
The old butler raised his face.
For just an instant, his eyes wandered.
"......Forgive me, my King."
"Did you almost just say 'young master'?"
"That is your imagination."
"You absolutely almost said it."
"Foh-ho-ho."
He laughed it off.
Exactly the "foh-ho-ho" I'd written beside the concept art.
"......I attended upon the First Seat for many long years, you see. When I stand before a young gentleman, it simply slips out."
"You used to call Vira 'young master'?"
"Before he became the hero — when he was still very small. Even now it slips out on occasion. The First Seat dislikes it a great deal."
"Ahaha!"
I was laughing before I knew it.
Imagining that fresh-faced, never-backs-down handsome hero being called "young master" and hating it — I couldn't hold it in.
"I'll keep it a secret from Vira."
"I am most grateful."
Wilhelm bowed slightly once more.
"So, um — about what you should call me."
"I believe 'Saku-sama' would be appropriate."
"Eh?"
"The same as the First Seat. I have heard that the King wished it so."
He'd gotten there ahead of me.
"You heard that from Vira?"
"Outside the universe, from the First Seat. About seven times."
"Seven times."
"Would you care to hear the eighth as well?"
"I'm good."
"Foh-ho-ho."
Wilhelm laughed, looking delighted.
Then, as if he'd suddenly recalled something, he touched a white-gloved fingertip to his chin.
"......That reminds me, Saku-sama."
"Yes?"
"Regarding the matter at Toda during Golden Week."
My heart gave a heavy thud.
"Eh — ah, yes."
"From the Shadow Servant, the report—"
Wilhelm let a single beat pass.
"—Nothing at all came in."
"Th-thank goodness."
"Yes. Nothing. Not a single word about the dual blades, or anything else."
"You just said 'dual blades.'"
"That is your imagination."
"You absolutely said it!"
"Foh-ho-ho."
It had all been reported.
My face went hot in a rush.
"F-forget it, please......!"
"What might you be referring to? I know nothing at all."
Wilhelm smiled pleasantly, not dropping his expression by a single millimeter.
Butlers are terrifying.
"Now then, Saku-sama."
Wilhelm pulled his white gloves snug again.
"I shall accompany you to the chambers ahead."
"Yes. Let's go together!"
"Very good."
Four haniwa stood before the stone door on Floor 11.
Sword, spear, bow, shield. A size up from anything so far.
Red light kindled in the four hole-eyes, one after another from the end.
With a gigi, the earthen necks turned toward me. The shield haniwa stepped forward, the sword and spear behind it. At the back, the bow haniwa's string creaked as it drew the string taut.
Their formation was a proper one.
The gatekeepers up to Floor 10 had been three at most.
"—No inscription, no meaning — cut, Nameless!"
I raised the katana.
The weight of the black blade settled into my palm.
Go straight in and the shield stops me. Once I'm stopped, the spear comes out from behind the shield, and the arrows come from the back.
So where do I break it?
Just thinking about it made my fingertips itch.
Wilhelm didn't take a stance.
He merely extended his right index finger, smoothly, forward.
From the fingertip, a single thread unspooled — shururi.
Thin. So thin it sometimes vanished depending on the light: a fine silver thread.
"—If you will excuse me."
Wilhelm moved his finger slightly.
The thread ran through the chamber.
One loop around the bow haniwa's arm. One around the spear haniwa's leg.
Wilhelm gave his finger a small tug.
The bow haniwa loosed its own arrow at the neighboring shield haniwa. The spear haniwa tangled its legs and crashed into the sword haniwa.
The arrow, loosed from right beside it, drove into the middle of the shield. A dull gatsun — fine cracks spread through the earthen shield.
"Eh — what is this?"
The four haniwa were attacking each other, all on their own.
"Saku-sama — now."
"Ah — y-yes!"
I dove into the broken formation.
The nearest was the sword haniwa. Knocked staggering by the spear haniwa, it still raised its earthen sword at me.
Before it could swing down, I stepped inside its arm.
Swept through the torso. A dry impact came back into my palm, and the sword haniwa crumbled from the waist.
Beyond it, the shield haniwa was righting itself. The arrow still stuck in the middle of its shield, a spiderweb of cracks spreading from it.
It charged, shield out front.
I didn't take it. I drove my point into the one spot where the arrow had struck.
The shield burst with a barin, and the katana carried through to the torso. The shield haniwa collapsed still clutching its shattered shield.
Something glinted at my feet.
The spear. Still tangled at the legs, the spear haniwa had dropped to a knee and was thrusting its point up from below.
I twisted. The point slid past my side; the hem of my clothes fluttered.
I'd seen it.
On the return stroke, I took the spear haniwa's head.
The bow haniwa was left last.
Deep in the chamber, it reached for the quiver on its back.
Wilhelm's thread whipped around the bowstring.
The instant the bow haniwa tried to nock an arrow, the string snapped — putsun.
"......Go ahead."
"Thank you."
Still gripping the stringless bow, the haniwa froze.
I ran straight at it and cut the last one down in passing.
The pattern on the stone door glowed blue.
"Whoa."
It slipped out on its own.
Wilhelm hadn't moved a single step. He had moved his finger three times, that was all.
"I am much obliged."
Wilhelm reeled the thread back onto his fingertip.
Then he looked at the floor, scattered with the earth of the fallen haniwa, and lowered his brows a fraction.
"......It has gotten a little untidy, has it not."
The thread ran across the floor once more.
The scattered clods were caught up in it and piled into a neat mound in the corner of the chamber.
"Even the cleaning."
"I am a butler, after all."
Floor 12. Floor 13.
Advancing with Wilhelm was a completely different kind of fun from with Vira.
Vira had been a partner who cut alongside me.
Wilhelm arranged everything so that I could cut easily.
Floor 13's gatekeeper was five.
Before the door was fully open, all five kicked off the floor at once. Their footfalls overlapped, and the whole chamber rumbled — dododo.
Five was a lot.
Right in front of me, as I reset my stance, the three in front pitched forward together.
A single silver thread had bound all three by the ankles.
Only the sword and spear were left. They leapt over their fallen comrades and came at me side by side.
Just the right number.
I guided the spear thrust aside with the blade's spine and slipped straight inside the sword haniwa's downward swing. Cut upward — one down. Turning, I cut through the spear haniwa, shaft and all, as it tried to pull its point back — two down.
The three that had fallen were still struggling, unable to rise, feet still bound by the thread. I cut them in order from one end.
When the last one crumbled, a dusting of earth came pattering down from overhead.
I looked up. Out of the dark of the ceiling, a haniwa was falling, sword pointed straight down.
Same trick as Floor 8. This time I'd catch it — I raised the katana.
The haniwa stopped in midair.
It hung swaying from a single thread wrapped around its torso. At exactly the height of my eyes. Only its limbs were kicking in the air.
"Wilhelm — do you need me for that one?"
"If you do not cut it for me, Saku-sama, there is nothing I can do."
"That's definitely a lie."
"Foh-ho-ho."
I cut the haniwa hanging from the thread.
To be honest, it was absurdly fun.
So this is the grandpa position's full power.
On Floor 15, we decided to take a break.
I sat down in a corner of the chamber and was about to pull a rice ball from my bag when—
"One moment, Saku-sama."
Wilhelm produced a white tablecloth from somewhere.
He spread it softly over the stone floor.
Then a teapot. Two cups and saucers. A three-tier cake stand lined with small baked sweets.
"Where did you get that out from?"
"A butler's refinement."
Wilhelm tilted the teapot.
Steaming tea poured into the cup. Amber-colored, and it smelled wonderful.
"There you are."
"Thanks."
I took a sip.
"So goood."
The voice came out.
The only tea I'd ever drunk came out of a plastic bottle. But I could tell this was outrageously good.
"I did write that you're insanely good at brewing tea, didn't I."
"I am honored."
"Exactly as written."
Drinking tea with an old butler, the two of us, in a stone chamber inside a burial mound.
Probably the strangest tea party in the world.
But it was the best.
Floor 20.
I could hear it before I'd finished going down the last stairs.
A low groan — buuun. Before my ears caught it, the pit of my stomach was shaking.
When I put my hand to the door, the same tremor came through the stone into my palm.
"It's beyond this, isn't it."
"Indeed it is."
I pushed.
Beyond the stone door was the widest chamber yet.
The ceiling arched high in a dome. Spiral patterns across every wall.
In the middle of the chamber, it was there.
A dogu.
Nothing like the haniwa's shape. A squat, stumpy body. Large, long, narrow eyes set horizontally. Rough, knobby patterns carved all over it.
It was about three times my height.
Dogu Hunter Difficulty: C (layer boss)
"A dogu!"
"Ho. Now this is a splendid one indeed."
Wilhelm stroked his chin, impressed.
The dogu took one step forward.
Zushin.
That alone sent tremors from the soles of my feet to my knees. Its arms, hanging slack, rose slowly. Either one was thicker than my torso.
The groan grew louder.
The dogu's narrow eyes glinted.
A beam fired from its eyes.
I jumped sideways. At the same instant, the back of my collar jerked, and my body was carried another half-step sideways.
The beam struck the floor where I'd been. White sparks burst, and the smell of scorch stung my nose. Only the heat reached my cheek, a beat late.
I turned. Wilhelm was winding a single fine thread back onto his fingertip as if nothing had happened.
It was the thread that had run from my collar.
The dogu slowly turned its body toward me. Charging the next beam.
"Saku-sama."
"Yes."
"Those eyes — just before a beam, they close for an instant."
"Eh — they do?"
"In that instant, go for its feet."
So he'd seen it. On the first shot. While yanking my collar.
"I shall keep those eyes closed. Saku-sama — please, cut with all your strength."
"Got it!"
I was running as I answered.
The dogu's right arm came from the side. Heavy wind, like it was pushing the chamber's whole atmosphere ahead of it. I ducked under, and the earthen arm passed overhead with a buuun; my hair streamed back.
The left arm dropped from above at once.
I jumped forward. The fist struck the floor right behind my back, and the whole chamber shook — don. The jolt rang all the way to my ankles as I landed.
It wasn't fast. But every single blow was enormous.
Five more steps to its feet.
The dogu's eyes glowed again.
Just before the beam — for an instant — the narrow eyes shut.
That instant.
Wilhelm's thread ran across the front of the dogu's face, layer upon layer.
The fine silver threads covered the closed eyes as if stitching them shut.
The dogu tried to open its eyes. They wouldn't open. The beam flickered inside them, with nowhere to go.
"—Go ahead, Saku-sama."
"—Right!"
I stepped in.
To the dogu's feet. The joint seam of its stumpy leg.
Cut.
The blade stopped with a gaki.
Hard. It bit into the groove of the seam and would go no further. The numbness of slamming a blade into stone at full force rebounded from the hilt into my wrist. Shaved clods crumbled loose at my feet.
Too shallow.
Pulling the katana free and the groan swelling deep inside the dogu happened at once.
The eye-sewn dogu went wild.
It flailed both arms at random. The right scythed along just above the floor; the left came down from overhead. I fell back. Rolled. Every time a fist struck the stone floor — don, don — it rang into the pit of my stomach.
The leg I'd cut lifted.
Before it could stomp down, I leapt back. The floor boomed — dosun — and the tremor chased me to where I landed.
I couldn't get close.
The threads before its face creaked — gichi. White light leaked flickering through the gaps in the stitching.
"Have no concern. They will not come loose."
Wilhelm stood with his fingers interlaced before his chest, not having moved a step.
Even with its eyes sewn shut, it came at me this hard.
Before I knew it, the corners of my mouth had gone slack into a grin.
But something was wrong. It shouldn't be able to see — yet its arms came straight for me.
I dodged the descending arm and shifted a step sideways. My sole squeaked against the stone.
The dogu's neck swiveled toward the sound.
Sound.
It was listening to my footsteps and swinging.
I picked up one of the clods lying at my feet.
Threw it at the left wall.
A high karan rang and bounced around the dome.
Both of the dogu's arms slammed down that way together.
I entered from the opposite side.
Muffling my footsteps — three steps. Four. In front of the right leg.
One white scar was left on the seam where the blade had stopped.
The same place.
This time, it wouldn't stop.
I put my hips into it and swung through.
The blade entered the groove of the scar and passed straight out the other side. A loud baki — and the dogu's right leg came off at the knee.
The huge body tilted. The dogu went down on one knee, both hands to the floor to brace itself.
Its posture broke, and its head dropped to exactly my eye level.
Right in front of me — the big eyes, sewn shut with thread.
Deep behind the stitching, white light pulsed.
I planted both feet and raised the katana high overhead.
"Raaah!"
I brought it down from directly above.
The blade ran straight, vertically, through the center of its head.
For one beat, nothing happened.
Then light poured out of the split.
The trapped beam burst from the cracked head and shot all at once to the ceiling. A single white pillar stood up to the top of the dome, lighting the spirals on every wall from end to end.
It was blinding, and I squinted.
When the light faded, the dogu had begun to collapse, still in the shape of hands braced on the floor. Dry earth streamed down to the floor with a sara-sara sound.
I tried to lower the katana and realized my fingers wouldn't leave the hilt.
Gripped too hard. I peeled them off one at a time. My palm was still hot.
When I blinked, one white pillar of light was still burned behind my eyelids.
Wilhelm, winding his thread back onto his fingertip, bowed quietly.
"A magnificent display, Saku-sama."
"Only because you sewed its eyes shut."
"It was because you stepped in without a moment's hesitation, Saku-sama."
Then he looked at the scattered pieces of the dogu and lowered his brows a fraction again.
"......It has gotten a little untidy, has it not."
"I'll help with the cleaning."
"No, no. Saku-sama, please rest."
The thread ran through the chamber.
In the blink of an eye, the dogu's pieces were a neat mound in the corner.
Deep in Floor 20, a stone stairway leading back up had appeared.
It was time to go home.
"Wilhelm."
"Yes, Saku-sama."
"Thank you for today. The tea was insanely good, too."
"I am honored."
Wilhelm went down on one knee.
A magic circle rose at his feet.
"Saku-sama."
"Yes?"
"May I offer one piece of meddling from an old man?"
"Please, go ahead."
"Regarding the Fourth Seat, who will be called next."
Wilhelm smiled, looking a little troubled.
"Once called, he will most likely sleep for the first hour or so. You may leave him as he is and go on diving."
"Eh — he sleeps?"
"He is the one who governs sloth, you see. However, he had been looking forward to being called more than anyone. He even ironed his shirt."
"Ironed."
"That is between us, of course."
The light climbed to around Wilhelm's chest.
"And one more thing."
"Yes."
"Regarding the dual blades — I truly know nothing whatsoever."
"I said let it go!"
"Foh-ho-ho."
Leaving that delighted laugh behind, Wilhelm vanished into the light.
I was alone in the stone chamber.
It had gone quiet all at once.
In the corner, the dogu's pieces were piled in a neat mound.
"He really did clean up before he left."
I couldn't help laughing.
Next was the Fourth Seat.
Leonhart. The man of sloth.
So he'd ironed his shirt.
What kind of person was he, then.
Grinning, I climbed the stairs home.