Ah... another goddamn day.
The scorching sun blazed overhead, baking the earth. Men working outside in white coats to shield their skin tilted their sun-burned faces upward, glaring at the cloudless sky.
Most of the land in the sand kingdom of Toizant was nothing but barren desert. It had once been a country rife with conflict. A massive influx of Treasure Hunters seeking the Treasure Hall had united the citizens, but that didn't change the fact that most of the territory was useless land.
Rain fell only a handful of times a year, and the temperature swing between day and night was brutal. Sandstorms whipped across the terrain, disorienting travelers, and most of the land was overrun with powerful Monsters adapted to the harsh climate—so much so that even laying down roads was impossible.
The only place that could be called even remotely prosperous was the capital, centered around one of Toizant's rare large oases. The other towns still struggled to put food on the table every day.
Toizant had many Treasure Halls, but their average Level was high. Unlike the great Zebludian Empire, there were no Treasure Halls that commoners could enter. That was one of the reasons Toizant had remained undeveloped for so long, and even now that things had improved somewhat, the majority of its citizens remained poor.
"Damn it, no good—this one won't grow either."
The men working here were part of an organization dedicated to saving that country.
Dozens of kilometers from the capital, a small village had been constructed. Built so it sat directly atop a Ley Line, operations were underway there.
They were planting trees.
Gravel stretched endlessly in every direction. Spindly trees were planted at regular intervals. Emaciated villagers desperately sprinkled water over them, but the leaves had turned brown and were starting to wither, the branches were no thicker than a person's little finger—nothing about them looked like healthy growth.
The villagers' faces were grim, though that was to be expected.
Plants couldn't grow in Toizant's climate. Water was precious, the soil contained almost no nutrients, and in such a harsh environment, the only plant-like thing that could truly survive was the man-eating cactus—a Monster.
Bringing rain to this land was difficult even for a powerful Mage. The reason Toizant was undertaking tree-planting as a national policy in such a hopeless wasteland was because of Mana Material.
Mana Material strengthened life. And not just for humans or Monsters.
By planting trees along the passage of Mana Material—the Ley Line—and using it to boost the plants' vitality, they were attempting to efficiently green the desert. It had been Toizant's foremost aspiration since the nation's founding.
To the people actually doing it, it was a fool's errand. They had planted seedlings of every tree species imported from other countries time and time again, and every single one had died. The reasons varied—sometimes it was water shortage, sometimes the heat was too much, sometimes Monsters or sandstorms were to blame.
To begin with, Toizant lacked every necessary condition. Water, resources, even technical expertise—all in short supply. They had even called in skilled Mages to try, and while it succeeded temporarily, it never lasted. This wasn't the kind of venture that could succeed with just that level of effort.
And yet the work continued. Tree-planting was grueling labor, but in Toizant, it was also an activity that commanded respect.
Even if it all came to nothing, even if the people involved didn't truly believe success would come one day—green was that much of an ideal for the people of this sandy kingdom.
Dozens of kilometers away, the capital was buzzing with news of a summit being held, but that had nothing to do with these men.
Today, as always, they battled the relentless forces of nature.
—And that was when the man arrived.
He wore a flashy shirt with his arms bared. His skin was fair, proof that he was no man of the desert. He carried no weapons that he could see, and his gear was hardly suitable for trekking through a harsh wasteland.
His presence was faint—faint compared to Hunters, certainly, but even compared to the villagers who absorbed Mana Material day and night—and wildly out of place.
This was, after all, a boring little village built solely for the tree-planting operation, where virtually no travelers ever came.
And yet the man who strode in with a child and a beautiful woman in tow was brought before the leader, where he announced himself as a Level 8 Hunter, a serene, slightly resigned smile on his face.
"Prepare a small 'shrine.' I'll lend you a god."
"W-What are you talking about...?"
"It'll surely enrich this land. It might not work out, but you've got nothing to lose, right? Might as well try."
It was absurd. Under normal circumstances, it was the kind of thing you'd laugh off.
But the Treasure Hunter identification the man presented was genuine. The title of Level 8 carried weight. The highest certified Hunter level in all of Toizant was 8. The man before them didn't look particularly strong, but that title was too prestigious to ignore.
As the villagers stood there in a daze, the Hunter—Klye Andrich—said: "Offer one fried tofu per day. That much, and it'll surely work for you."
"...Three."
The fox-masked child tugging at his sleeve spoke up. Klye immediately corrected himself.
"...Offer three. Oh, and while you're at it—I need you to bury this. Deep underground, nice and secure. Got it?"
"Oh, Klye-san... that's such a waste," the pink-blonde woman exclaimed, eyes wide, letting out a small shriek. The exchange lacked any sense of gravitas, but the leader's eyes were fixated on the divine, pristinely white tail the Level 8 Hunter—the hero—had produced.
§ § § I looked up at the sky, feeling a job well done. The blue sky, the brilliant sunlight pouring down—blissful.
"Everything's settled..."
I'd saddled my little sister fox with the obligation of fried tofu along with her power, and I'd disposed of the tail too. Having it buried deep underground meant it would surely fade with time. On top of that, I'd even scored a smartphone.
Today I was sharper than ever.
Citry, walking beside me, kept glancing back over her shoulder. She seemed curious about the village.
It wasn't a large village by any stretch. According to the information I'd gathered beforehand, it had been built for the tree-planting project, but it didn't look like it was going particularly well.
Bleak, barren land stretched in every direction, with Monsters unique to the sandy kingdom—Giant Sand Scorpions and the like—roaming about. Building a village and working on top of a Ley Line, a place where Monsters congregated—even if Treasure Halls couldn't form there—in such a world? Comfortable or not, that wasn't something I'd want to do.
"There are times I just can't follow Klye-san's thinking."
"I'm not exactly the most composed person."
"The tail... what a waste..."
My little sister fox was just a low-ranking one, but that didn't change the fact that to small, insignificant humans like us, she wielded godlike power.
I didn't know the full extent of her abilities, but making it rain should be within her reach. Even if she couldn't, she'd surely be a reliable guard in such a harsh environment. As far as Phantoms went, she was remarkably reasonable.
If things went wrong, I'd already said it might not work out, so the blame wasn't on me.
Ah, doing good deeds really does feel nice.
"Not that it's an apology or anything, but the cargo we unloaded from the airship—let's send that over too."
I'd heard the tree-planting project was in pretty dire straits. The villagers there had all looked gaunt. The cargo was mostly preserved food, but it was better than nothing. There might even be some fried tofu left.
Citry, who still looked a little resentful, puffed out her cheeks—a rare display.
"As you wish."
"That tail was far too dangerous for any kind of experiment."
"...You gave something like that to the villagers?"
Citry furrowed her brow. I made my excuse.
"...That and this are entirely different matters."
I didn't give it away. I threw it away. The object, the responsibility—I buried it in a hole and abandoned it.
Dangerous things? Just pretend you never saw them. Hopeless things? Best to dump them deep underground. If you've got complaints, take them up with that fox-spirit at the Lost Inn.
"If I have my excuses ready, everything's perfect."
Well, Termu and the others were apparently still at the Lost Inn, so maybe something could be worked out.
"...Will you bury that in a hole too?"
"Come on, Citry, don't be sulky."
"I'm not sulking... I just... I wanted that tail too, you know..."
Citry said something alarming. Apparently she'd wanted to grow a tail of her own.
Part of me was a little curious to see it... but two tails in one Party? My stomach couldn't handle that.
"That's... something we no longer need."
Freedom and peace were what mattered most.
I gave Citry's back a couple of light pats—she was showing a rare hint of her old demeanor—narrowed my eyes, and gazed up at the sky.
§ After parting from Citry with a spring in my step, I returned to my room feeling pleasantly tired and reached for my smartphone—when Kris, back in her usual robe as if she'd been waiting for the exact right moment, swept through the door.
The magic deficiency seemed to have been resolved; her complexion was considerably better than yesterday. She scowled at me with an irritated look and opened with: "Where the hell did you go, Weakling? That's a sentence. Franz says he has something to talk about. That's a sentence."
"The escort plan was supposed to proceed without us... What could it be about? ...Come along, Kris."
"You're the only one who was called. I'm done with the secretive Weakling act. That's a sentence. Go by yourself. That's a sentence. Hey—let go, Weakling! That's a sentence! Don't touch me, so presumptuous—I haven't given you that kind of permission yet! That's a sentence!"
The little sister fox situation shouldn't have been discovered yet. Was this about Termu and the others? One thing after another—they all relied on me way too much.
I'd made up my mind. Once we got back to the imperial capital, I was retiring for sure. Right—I could quit as a way of taking responsibility for botching the escort job.
I'd been looking forward to playing with the smartphone too... With a heavy sigh, I shoved the easily pushed-over Kris's back and headed toward Franz's room.