"Where do you think the directions to the underworld are?"
Songha, captain of Expedition Team: Freedom. She set down the cigarette she had been smoking and pondered the audacious question from the magician under her command. She could not gauge just what this kid meant by throwing out something like that.
"You mean the one Odysseus used when he headed for the underworld?"
"Yes."
"Who knows. Judging by how no tale about it has come down since it was returned to Kirke, Kirke probably kept holding onto it."
"Hmm. In that case, would it be on the island of Aiaie, where Kirke lived?"
"Probably. But why do you ask?"
Any other time she would have thought the little shut-in had finally deigned to pay a visit. Back when he was a tiny little thing he used to come by the office to play, and it was already two years ago that he grew a bit and stopped coming.
"I'm going to go to the underworld."
Had this brat truly gone mad from his brother's death? Then would she now have to wander the back alleys looking for a new magician?
"If you want to kill yourself, hand over your work before you die."
"I'm not particularly trying to kill myself."
But a magician with talent like the boy before her was extremely rare and precious. Songha fingered the drop-style gold earring hanging from one of her ears and the cigarette in her hand, then took up the conversation with the boy in a more serious attitude.
"Then?"
"You don't have to die to get into the underworld. Just like that Odysseus you mentioned a moment ago."
"And that's a story from the Age of Myth."
"The gods dying doesn't mean the underworld itself vanished, does it?"
"So what, you'll go to the afterworld and bring your brother back?"
"If it's possible?"
Bloodlines of Eastern Continent origin being mocked with names like crow-tit eyes or slit-eye was nothing new, but the boy, whose eyes were unusually narrow even among them, grinned. It was a smile without a trace of seriousness in it, brimming instead with mockery.
"Are you serious?"
"I'd like to say I mean it, but you'd probably get angry if I did, Captain, so let's call it a joke."
...Had this child really gone insane? Songha agonized once more over Yul, who had turned a full 180 degrees since Yun's death. Had his brain truly spun half a turn in the process of accepting that his brother was dead?
"So, about that, Captain."
"...Speak."
"From next time, I want to go along on the expeditions too. I can come, right?"
Songha was left speechless all over again. Expeditions? Eeexpeditions? What had he done with all the shrieking about not wanting to go along on expeditions until now?
"Do you mean that seriously?"
Of course, not taking Yul along on expeditions had not been solely because of his own tantrums. There had been his brother Yun's earnest request, and it would be a great loss if he were carelessly sent to the front and suddenly died, so she had kept him in the rear for both reasons at once.
And now what? He would come along on expeditions at this point? The brat who had skipped even basic combat training, saying that hitting people made him feel awful?
"This is one hundred percent pure sincerity, so you don't need to ask any further."
"Yul. I......."
Songha pressed at her temples and rolled the cigarette smoke over her tongue. All the while her head was busily turning over why this kid was acting this way.
"...I'm not going to cast you out just because Yun is dead. So if that's the sort of reason you're worried about, there's no need to force yourself."
"Ah, well. Thank you. Though the reason I made this request lies elsewhere."
"Then?"
"The bastards who killed my brother, they were called Ironstick, right?"
"...That's right."
"Shouldn't those bastards... learn the truth that when you kill another person, you have to prepare your own grave as well?"
At that point Songha reached her conclusion. Yul had lost his mind because of Yun's death. And in the most common direction there was in this world, at that.
"You must know that's difficult in practical terms?"
"Ah, of course. I haven't received combat training, and I haven't learned any battle magic for real combat either."
"Good. Fortunately you know your place. Then you'll have anticipated what my answer would be?"
"Of course. I know very well. That's exactly why I came in person."
In truth, a child who had found it hard to look at a single drop of blood coming to hold murderous intent under a single-minded thought of revenge was no great problem.
If anything, to the person serving as captain of an expedition team it was welcome. A magician who made goods in the rear was fine, but a magician who stood in the front line and took part in battle was more welcome still.
"Why, did you think that if you came in person you might actually persuade me?"
But she would decline a future in which precious talent went raving mad without knowing its own measure and died. Songha pointed that out.
"Yes."
If there was a minor variable, then yes. Yul, having lived through his brother's death, had become a being beyond Songha's expectations.
The moment that laughter-tinged answer ended, Yul's hand, laden with magic power, stretched out toward Songha.
SMACK!
Songha was a warrior who had lived long as a hunter, and naturally she knew how to deal with a surprise attack with practiced skill.
But even to her eyes, Yul's assault had something rather... insidious and nimble about it. Enough that she dared to wonder whether anyone other than her could have coped with it.
SMACK, SMACK-SMACK!
The same went for the attacks that followed. The instant his first offensive came to nothing, Yul flexibly twisted his wrist and arm to strike at another spot, and Songha too made use of her years to respond.
Yul's leg, which meant to strike the back of her knee and break her balance, was rendered useless by a single step from Songha, and his outstretched fist was knocked aside by her palm. She could have used her advantage in strength to wrench his arm if she wished, but Songha deliberately left the boy to do as he pleased.
Under Songha's tacit permission the boy's fists aimed for her vital points again and again. Every one of them was that of a practiced brawler.
"Enough!"
In the end it was Songha who declared the finish first.
She caught the boy's wrist with one hand and twisted his arm to subdue him, then put the cigarette in her other hand to her mouth. That act, which could easily look like carelessness, was in fact giving the boy time to swallow a breath.
The boy, who had been forcing muscles and organs he never used to move by means of magic power, only then began to pant. It was as though the metabolism he had held down by force were pouring out like a burst dam.
"Where did you... no, when did you practice that?"
"If I had, practiced, haah, I wouldn't be... in this state right now, would I?"
"...That's true enough."
If Yul had been training on his own, she could not have failed to know. Before that, the boy's various muscles would not be screaming at him about what he thought he was doing. In the process of training, his muscles would inevitably have developed.
"Then... what was that just now?"
"Come on, I have watched a fair bit up to now."
"You imitated it this far just from watching?"
The panting boy shrugged without a word. That smirking smile of his came as a bonus. The glasses perched precariously on the bridge of his nose flashed their silver frames.
"So you've had talent like this all this time......."
"Until now magic was enough. Well, not anymore."
Whether she should be angry about this, or call it fortunate that he was revealing it even now.
Songha set aside a heart swinging between indignation and pride and tapped her cigarette ash into the ashtray. At the same time, her other hand released the boy she had been holding.
"...I can't take you along right away. With stamina like this you couldn't keep up with the first letter of the word expedition."
"Then?"
"I'll speak to Aran and Flag. From tomorrow, learn about expeditions from Aran and take stamina training from that bastard Flag."
"Yeees."
"...Starting training doesn't mean I'll reduce your alchemical product quota. If you think you'll regret it, say so now."
"Who knows... as for regret, I'm already sick to death of it as things are."
Yul pushed up his glasses and kneaded his trembling arm, and Songha pressed the boy no further. She merely swallowed a bitter smile at the change in a child she had watched since he was small.
"Let's be sure to go together on the expedition after next, Captain."
"...If you're ready."
"And leave the bastards I'm going to kill for me."
Whether or not he knew Songha's heart, Yul left her office without ceremony. The scribbles of a Yul younger than this still remained on the office sofa, and yet he looked as changed as though heaven and earth had been made anew.
***
As the price for using muscles he never used, he lay ill for a full day. Even so, he had no regrets. Judging by results alone, the exchange rate had not been bad at all.
"Hey! I heard you declared you're joining the expeditions!"
"Good grief. Word travels fast."
First, while he groaned in bed, he organized all the memories and knowledge. The ego of Odysseus would feel a certain dissonance now and then, but at least there would be no flailing about from not knowing what he needed to know.
"Did Bro Flag say so?"
"Yeah! He said he suddenly got put in charge of your conditioning... no, that's not the important part. Are you really okay?!"
The second gain was participation in the expeditions. Seen more fundamentally, an opportunity to build force of arms legally and in a manner suited to the present world.
"You, you hated fighting! You said mixing with people at all felt unpleasant and you didn't like it! You pushed even me away like crazy, so why all of a sudden......?"
"Well, that's true. But it turns out you can't avoid everything just because you dislike it."
For reference, he had decided to build up magical knowledge a little more slowly. For now, building up the body alone was more than enough to handle.
'I may have taken in the memories, but it seems I need time to properly master this world as well.......'
In any case, for those reasons it seemed he would go on relying on Expedition Team: Freedom for a while. Perhaps on the order of years.
There was no way that gathering information about the directions to the underworld, or building the force needed for it, would take a mere few days.
"...Hey, Yul. Are you really okay?"
"Hmm. Being asked the same question over and over, I don't know what to say. I really am fine."
"No, you, right now you're just like......."
"Like I've completely lost my mind, you mean?"
"I-I didn't think it went that far."
"No, it's fine. You don't have to deny it. I understand how you feel."
Having thought that far, Odysseus swept the train of thought out of his head. Instead he gave a slight smile at the sight of Yujin floundering.
He had not gone mad. It was simply that the contents had changed rather a lot.
"And... honestly, I'm not confident either. About whether I've really gone mad or not."
Of course... there was a low probability that the contents had not changed at all. Which was to say that the ego of Odysseus might in fact be not a past life but an escape from reality born of mental illness.
Naturally, being born again and living was that unfamiliar a thing. Reincarnation, transmigration, such things were concepts that had not existed even in the Age of Myth.
"But does that matter?"
Yet what did it matter if these memories were truly false? Penelope's figure still rose up clearly the moment he closed his eyes, and the heart that ardently adored her had not changed even with his body swapped out.
"I've already made up my mind. That I'll beat down those Ironstick bastards, and after that look for a way to reach the underworld."
If this love were a lie, he had the confidence to be buried gladly in the lie and die.
"Wouldn't that be enough?"
So he wished they would ease up on asking him whether he was 'all right.' He himself knew best that he was not remotely normal at present.
"...Hey, good to see the mindset is solid! Yeah. You need that much resolve to train."
Just then a man came walking in from the cafeteria entrance. He was a man marked by a scar at the corner of his right eye and a left leg replaced with a mechanical prosthetic.
"Bro Flag."
"Whoa... it feels really awkward hearing you call me Bro."
"Should I call you 'hey' or 'one-leg' instead? The way I used to?"
"No. Definitely call me Bro."
"Fine."
"Right, so... um. So, are we starting today?"
"If that's all right with you."
"I've got everything ready. Whose orders do you think they were? But... never mind. You look like you've made up your mind good and proper, so."
Flag. Loose-lipped and light of tongue, but a man of some real ability in the expedition team... and an anarchist besides.
Odysseus reviewed the man's information once more and smiled. His new body's slit eyes made for a rather poor impression, so he at least had to smile often.
"Uh, don't eat too much. You know, since you might throw up."
"Don't worry. I'm deliberately keeping it moderate."
"Yeah? That's good, then."
So he meant to work him until he vomited. Not bad. To make a single warrior out of a body that had not put on so much as one bicep by the age of twelve, he would have to pass through a harsher time than in his past life.
"Then let's head to the training ground right after we eat. Normally you don't train right after a meal, but... I've got an afternoon deployment, so now's the only time I can look after you."
"Hey, Bro Flag. Are you serious?"
"What, should I not? The captain gave the order and he says he'll do it himself."
"No, but Yul is—"
"If you must have this conversation, why don't you both go and get your food first? Just as Bro has an afternoon deployment, I don't have much available time in a day either."
He had to do the work he had originally been doing as a magician, and he had to train. He also had to newly study what to do when out on an expedition, what role he would be given, and so on.
Ah, and judging by the fuss these two were making, Horn his magic teacher would put on a similar display, so he would have to make time to persuade him as well. It was a truly, endlessly bothersome business.
In any case, when he pointed that out, Flag's and Yujin's expressions turned peculiar. In the end they did go shuffling off to pick up their trays.
"I had heard your personality had changed somewhat, but it seems it is true."
"...It has been a long time since I saw you in person, Vice-Captain Aran."
And as soon as the two left, someone new approached. It was Aran, leader of Hunting Team 2 and vice-captain of Expedition Team: Freedom.
"Yes, it has been a while."
But in Odysseus' view, Aran's greatest distinguishing feature was not the post she held.
'I never thought I would live to see a descendant of the Harpyies¹ living mingled in with Harmons.'
Harmon Ἄνθρωπος, or the Teeming Folk. This meant the race that was characterless, bland, and numerous, like Captain Songha, Odysseus, and Flag.
The Harpyies, on the other hand, were the sisters of Iris, god of the rainbow, and those who governed and led the storms. Depending on the power they held, some Harpyia were classified as gods and some as Nymphe, but at the very least they were absolutely not of a rank that would live alongside the Teeming Folk as they did now.
"I have heard the story. That you wish to take part in the expeditions."
And yet the world had come to this. The Harpyies who had been exalted as gods were all dead, and their descendants, and those who had been treated as Nymphe, had mingled bodies with the Teeming Folk and produced offspring.
All of them, down to the Kentauros and the Satyros and the Cyclops, who like the Harpyies had been treated as kin of the gods.
Perhaps the true end of the Age of Myth was that the mysterious had dissolved into the everyday and could no longer be treated as mysterious. Like the woman right before his eyes.
Thinking such things, Odysseus swept his eyes over her form again.
An appearance in which every part except the face was covered in feathers; arms that took the form of wings larger than her own body; from below the knee, wrinkled scales in place of down; and tail feathers so long that they touched the ground and bent slightly.
And the laughable point was that even this was closer to the Teeming Folk than the Harpyies he remembered. Real Harpyies preferred to stand tilted rather than upright, and their bodies were at minimum more than 5m.
"Yes."
"Come to my room at ten in the evening. I will begin your instruction today."
"I'll do that. I look forward to your guidance."
"Yes. I look forward to it as well."
The boy chewed over the strangeness of this world in the face of a scene that was not even funny. He doubted whether the day would ever come when he grew accustomed to this era.
He simply missed Penelope.
¹Harpyies Άρπυιες
Gods or Nymphe of the storms with the appearance of half-human, half-bird. The singular form is Harpyia Άρπυια.