Chapter 56: Please Help Me

"No, no, no, no, no. So, after all that, your plan is just to talk to them face-to-face and persuade them...? Are you serious?"

"Yeah. I'm serious. That's how we've done things up until now, and that's how we'll keep doing them. That's the kind of journey this is."

After hearing him dismiss my grand scheme, I'd wondered what sort of incredible plan he was about to propose.

What came out of his mouth was completely outrageous.

"I'll capture you guys, tie you up with ropes, and drag you along. Sure, that would let you get your voices heard by the elves, even if only for a little while. ...But if it fails—"

It was certainly a feasible plan. But I couldn't imagine it accomplishing our ultimate goal.

And yet, the boy who claimed to have been traveling under the banner of "salvation"—

"I won't let it fail. I'll make it succeed."

—declared with unwavering determination.

At that moment, I understood.

This was what someone who sought "tomorrow"... a "better future"... looked like.

"You want us to help you?"

"What's this all about, then?"

"Apparently, that Himeros fellow caught some suspicious-looking people."

"Suspicious-looking people?"

In a hall-like space, a large number of elves had gathered. They exchanged their thoughts among themselves as they looked at the two captives.

"Enough of this! What are you all doing?! Don't let those people say another word!"

One of the elders, Riuros Waunero, Himeros's great-grandfather, saw what was happening and barked out an order, raising his voice in a way that was rare for him. But—

"What's going on?"

"Looks like old man Himeros is shouting about something."

"Outsiders... Could they be spirits?"

"No, then the old man's reaction doesn't make sense."

The boy hadn't necessarily thought everything through to that extent.

The elven elders, who wanted the unchanging "present" to remain as it was, had deliberately withheld all information about the visitors to avoid causing confusion.

And that was precisely why this brief window of opportunity existed.

No one could stop the boy from speaking now.

"There are things I must do. There are people I want to protect."

And so, the boy gave voice to his feelings.

"But I don't have the strength to do it on my own right now. So, please..."

There was no need for a long speech.

He didn't have that kind of time to spare, anyway.

All he needed to do was—

"Please lend me your strength!"

—simply trust them and ask for their help.

—To begin with, there was very little I could do.

The boy understood that perfectly well.

He had no special talent.

He was weak. He had neither the eloquence of an agitator or leader nor the kind of beauty that could bring a nation to its knees.

He wasn't exceptionally intelligent, either. And, more fundamentally, he had no memories.

Therefore, he had no compelling "reason" that could justify disrupting the "peace" that had endured for hundreds of years.

—Even so.

Even so, he wanted to help. He wanted to save them.

Knowing that destruction was coming, he simply couldn't abandon someone right in front of him.

The boy could surely have chosen to carefully explain the threats posed by the "World Eater" and the "Machine City."

He could have laid out the danger and asked them to lend him their strength to avert it. That was certainly an option.

—But that wasn't the way he wanted to do things.

It would be no different from forcing "salvation" upon them.

The Machine City forced "change" upon others.

The Great Forest clung stubbornly to "stagnation."

At their core, they were probably no different from each other.

Both assumed that the "rightness" they believed in would make everyone happy.

It wasn't a question of whether that was inherently wrong.

It simply wasn't what he wanted to pursue. It wasn't what he wanted to find waiting at the end of the journey he was taking alongside his precious companions.

And so.

That was precisely why the boy decided to believe in the "rightness" of others.

At the same time, he stripped away everything unnecessary, again and again, until only the essentials remained.

He asked himself what he needed to communicate more than anything else right now.

Then he realized the answer.

There was only one thing: the simple fact that "I am in trouble." A fact no one could possibly deny.

And so.

That was why he chose to believe.

He believed in the desire to help someone who was struggling.

The elves'... no.

He chose to believe in the goodness of people.

"I don't really understand what's going on, but if he's this desperate..."

"Maybe we should at least hear him out."

"Yeah, I think so, too."

"Hey, outsider! What's got you in trou—"

The elves didn't exactly respond with overwhelming enthusiasm to the boy's honest, unvarnished plea. Still, at the very least, they seemed willing to hear him out.

Unless personal grudges or hatred were involved, it was understandable that most people—unless they were exceptionally twisted—would react this way.

After all, the elves had lived in their secluded forest, far removed from wars and the like. By nature, they were a gentle people. All the more reason they wouldn't simply turn away someone desperately begging for help.

"Fools! What do you mean, 'help you'?! We have no need for change! You pests are trying to destroy this 'present' of ours!"

With a few exceptions.

"That's enough, Great-Grandfather!"

"Himeros?!"

"Even this 'present' you're so obsessed with is in danger! You idiot!"

"W-what did you just call me?! An idiot...?!"

He was shocked. Of course he was.

I'd always put on the act of being a "good boy," and I'd never once insulted Great-Grandfather.

...Come to think of it, I'd spent all this time talking about wanting "change" and yearning for a "tomorrow" different from "today," yet I'd never once brought those desires up directly with my family or the adults around me.

Maybe I'd been afraid of "change," too.

But—

"The enemy's massive army is right on our doorstep! The only reason you're still able to live through your usual 'present' is because Kizuna here and his companions are desperately holding them back!"

The ordinary elves knew nothing about what was happening. So, at my words, they began voicing their confusion.

"An enemy?!"

"What do you mean?"

"A massive army, you say?"

"Apparently, someone's holding them back!"

Meanwhile...

"We never asked you to do that...!"

"Exactly! This person could have told you all that and used it to make you indebted to him! But he didn't! Do you know why?!"

Great-Grandfather and some of the other elders showed no sign of surprise. Apparently, they already knew. They must have confirmed it using magic.

...That made me even angrier. They'd seen people fighting for their lives right now, and they still refused to do anything.

"This person told me that forcing things on others is wrong. He doesn't want to force gratitude or obligations on you. He wants to respect the elves' 'freedom.' He said what matters is that each person makes their own choice."

The plan I'd been about to carry out—the Great World Tree Eradication Operation—was exactly the kind of thing I hated: forcing my will on others.

In my desperation, I'd nearly become the very thing I hated most.

"Do you get it?! This outsider cares a whole lot more about us than you elders do!"

That's right. It was all about forcing things on others.

The Machine City did it.

The Great Forest did it, too.

"From where I'm standing, both sides are evil! The people who force change on others, and the people who force stagnation on others—every last one of them is so damn selfish!"

"What did you say?!"

I remembered the days I'd spent taking Hatch apart and putting it back together.

The dense cluster of complicated components I'd found inside Hatch's armor. The tiny gear nestled among them.

A part that did nothing but spin around and around to carry out its commands.

"We're not gears! We're not pieces in someone's game!"

That's right. We—

"We're people with free will!"

"Uuuugh... You... you absolute IDIOT!"

Great-Grandfather raised his staff high.

Multiple layers of magic circles spread out from its tip. It was an extremely powerful offensive spell.

This was bad. I'd said whatever came to mind, but I hadn't thought about what to do afterward.

A wildly inappropriate thought crossed my mind: That'll hurt if it hits me...

As the impending impact rushed toward me, I instinctively squeezed my eyes shut—

"—That's enough. Stop."

A voice rang out.

"Old elf. Is this the 'present' you wished to protect? One in which you would turn against your own kin?"

The voice wasn't particularly loud.

And yet, it resonated throughout the forest.

I knew that voice. I'd heard it once, a long time ago. If I remembered correctly, that voice belonged to—

"S-Spirit...?!"

"It's a spirit!"

"The spirit of 'Winter'...!"

That's right. It was the spirit's voice.

The voice of the conceptual spirit of "Winter" who had been welcomed at the Spirit Festival I'd attended as a child.

Realizing this, I cautiously opened my eyes...

"...That was close."

Standing before me was a woman with light green hair, her jet-black garments fluttering around her.

She must have blocked Great-Grandfather's spell. She stood with a crimson sword and an azure sword crossed in front of her body, and her pale skin was covered in numerous wounds.

And yet, she paid them no mind whatsoever, acting as though she couldn't feel any pain.

"Is everyone all right?"

She spoke in an incredibly gentle voice, one that seemed to embrace everything.