Ch.167The Cliff of Stairs. Maximus Canyon (2)

“Damn. Woke up at this hour again.”

30 o’clock.

Having woken up from a nap right at dinner time, I grumbled as I looked at the clock.

I just woke up, so it feels a bit awkward to eat dinner, but I’m too wide awake to go back to sleep.

“Tsk.”

Wiping my drool, I gazed at the moonlight for the first time in a while.

The moon was shining softly as always, occasionally hiding behind clouds as if trying to conceal its light.

The moonlight is ultimately just reflected sunlight, so why is it possible to land on the moon’s surface?

Mithril is made by scraping the moon’s surface, turning it into an alloy, and asking nearby stars for some light, but if I ever get the chance, I’d like to visit the moon’s surface.

The sun… that’s probably impossible.

Even the imperial family, direct descendants of the sun rather than just blessed by it, couldn’t approach the sun carelessly.

Besides, the sun doesn’t really have a “surface” to speak of.

It’s just the light of eternally burning Lord Nariakira Saburo appearing in the form of a sphere.

If I could somehow break through that tremendous heat, would I be able to share a drink with Lord Saburo?

If that were truly possible, the imperial descendants might become shuttles for alcohol rather than orichalcum shuttles.

As I imagined such unreachable, distant places, drowsiness began to wash over me again.

Oh… this works well.

They say studying astronomy makes people humble, but in my case, it seems to make me sleepy rather than humble.

Well. Is that actually better?

*

Five hours later.

I woke up again around the time Maria and Saburo would be starting their shift change.

I slept so deeply that I couldn’t even remember if I’d dreamed, which made me wonder if my nap after lunch had been light sleep.

With still a few hours before sunrise, I drew a bath to wash off the dust accumulated during the night.

“Mmm… you’re up already?”

“It’s not morning yet. My eyes just opened early.”

“Heeh…”

Raisha hugged me tightly, and I made a futile attempt to quantify the happiness a naked woman could bring before giving up.

Come to think of it, my wife hadn’t sent a single letter to her mother, her only remaining family in her hometown of Faerus Vale, about how she was doing.

Of course, that’s not necessarily wrong.

After all, adventurers are destined to die eventually—it’s just a matter of when.

It just suddenly occurred to me that I don’t have a mother to receive such communications.

“Raisha.”

“Yes?”

“What does it feel like to have parents?”

“Uh…”

Raisha’s expression instantly turned blank.

It’s not strange, really.

For ordinary people, parents are something that naturally exists, or should exist.

Most people had parents, or if not parents, then grandparents or uncles. And if not even those, they had orphanage directors as parent substitutes.

I just didn’t have that.

I realized long ago that I was different, having lived alone without anyone to trust or rely on.

To be honest, I was somewhat proud of it.

You know how… at that age, if you have something different from others, you tend to consider it a point of pride.

Of course, it didn’t take long to realize that this “difference” was a weakness rather than a strength, and I had to painfully engrave in my body and soul the hardships that an individual minority faces in the majority society.

“I… I don’t know how to explain it. I’m sorry.”

“…No. It’s okay.”

While the experience of losing parents might be describable even after a day, the experience of having parents is difficult to explain even in an hour.

That’s how essential the existence of caretakers who birth and raise you is in a person’s life.

So am I both my own caretaker and dependent?

“Do you know what I wondered most when I lived in Parcival?”

“What was it?”

I delayed my answer slightly and carried my wife into the filled bathtub.

The sensation of water at the boundary between warmth and heat… the time I’ve been able to enjoy this languid feeling has been too brief in my life.

“I wondered who would bury me when I died, and what words would be written on my tombstone.”

“…”

“As you know, I’m not a sociable person. As that thief said, I’m a slaughterer who killed tens of thousands alone, and to some, I might be more fearsome than a god.”

I may think I lack fear, but I don’t consider myself brave.

I know that the absence of fear and bravery are similar but different.

“Back then, I thought killing would make things better.”

“…”

“I thought if I killed the shopkeeper who didn’t give me change, trampled the middle-aged man who grabbed my hair when drunk, and pulled out all the teeth and nails of the noble lady who looked down on me for being an orphan, I could reign at the top of the small world called Parcival. But I was wrong.”

“Then what happened?”

“Nothing. Like insects multiplying or moss spreading, no matter how many I killed, I never became rich, powerful, or even human. I was just a walking piece of slaughter, seeking only targets to kill.”

Society is a collection of individuals. And that means if you kill enough individuals, you can collapse society.

But I didn’t kill “enough” individuals, and in the end, I was just continuing my winning streak in my own slaughterhouse, rolling like a beast at the bottom of Parcival.

I remember nearly being strangled to death after letting my guard down slightly at a cheese workshop, despite all the killing I’d done.

Would the me from that time believe that I would become this strong just a year later?

“People have different reasons for adventuring. Some for money. Some for honor. Some dive into this field out of pure adventurous spirit. And now I know what I’m seeking.”

“What are you looking for?”

“Proof that I’m human.”

At my words, Raisha silently placed my hand against her cheek.

The warm, soft touch of a woman. A sight that would stir the hearts of most men, and I knew that too.

But why is my heart so cold?

Why do I feel awe at bizarre rock formations, intimidation from tall fortresses, and amazement at interlocking machinery, yet fail to gain any emotion among people?

I realize, love, desire, and smile, but like water reaching the limit line drawn on a dam, my heart grows cold.

As if I’m someone who strictly separates public and private matters.

If the sun told me to kill Raisha, I could do it.

Without hesitation, without wavering, I would cleanly cut off her head.

And I know this isn’t normal.

Having killed so many, how could I not know?

And because of this, I’m even more angry at my twisted heart.

I feel contempt and scorn for myself, who opened my eyes on the streets of Parcival where you kill or get killed, and for my reason that knows everything but doesn’t know how to fix it.

“Do you think you’re not human?”

“I don’t know… I’ve never once thought or imagined that I could turn my back on slaughter. Like how it’s impossible for a sunflower not to face the sun…”

“In this world, there are machines made to dream of being human, and humans born yearning to be machines. Some find pleasure through murder, others satisfy their desires through rape. Yet you think you’re not normal?”

“…”

I understand what Raisha is saying.

People are literally a species with no two alike, and I am a member of that species.

But ultimately, saying I’m normal compared to such people means that without that comparison, I couldn’t fall within the category of normal.

“Is being ordinary so important? I don’t mind either way. Even if you could kill me, I know you won’t…”

“…”

Raisha placed my hands around her neck and wrapped her own hands tightly around mine, choking herself with both our hands.

If I applied force, her neck would break and she would die, but I didn’t.

I didn’t want to.

“Darling.”

My wife said.

“You have value because you are you. What does it matter if a million people point fingers at you? No one can harm you…”

“…”

It’s the first time I’ve heard such words.

Is this what it feels like to hear in person a phrase you’ve only seen on the cover of a self-help book?

Today, too, I take another step forward.

And if I keep walking, perhaps I’ll find my own answer about why I need to exist in this world.

Yes…

I am no longer the nightmare of Parcival, nor an orphan of the city.

I am a knight-errant of the Salvation Knights, tasked with purifying this world by the sun’s message, a gold-rank adventurer of the Adventurer’s Guild.

And the leader of the Iron Walker party, as well as one woman’s husband.

I feel the elements supporting me like cornerstones and beams.

The sun was already shining on the world again, and the bathwater had cooled to lukewarm.

Now, it was time to venture out again.