Chapter 80

Lieutenant Erabelle Vermilion requested temporary leave from the ship.

It was denied.

“Just wait.”

In the communications room—where, for some reason, even a few of the Dogs had been summoned—Commander Dezeb Avganis, the very man who had rejected her request to leave, spoke to her gently.

“Don’t worry.”

Then he flicked a glance toward his Dogs.

The surveillance team caught the look and immediately bowed their heads.

“Make sure we don’t have a repeat of yesterday. If it looks like we might, pull a few people out ahead of time.”

“Yes, sir. Sorry.”

While the Dogs hung their heads for reasons Erabelle could not fathom, Dezeb alone gave her a faint smile.

“I’ll be right back.”

And he really was.

Less than an hour later, Erabelle was face-to-face with the Count, who had arrived looking none the worse for wear.

“Rift?”

The Count looked as though he had no idea what she was talking about.

“Well now, we didn’t come that way. Didn’t you hear? We took a long detour aboard the ship House Avganis provided.”

Erabelle had heard that the ship belonging to the Count’s designated heir had nearly been torn in half by the rift.

She wondered whether, by the time the wreckage was recovered and repairs were underway, the part about “a ship provided by the Marquis house” would quietly disappear from the story, leaving only “we took a detour.”

Much like what had happened with Majia.

“Anyway, enough of that nonsense. You...!”

Cohabitation. Scandal. Radio silence.

As the Count unleashed the full barrage he had clearly been saving up, Erabelle quietly shifted only her eyes toward the window.

The stars glittering across the dim void were perfectly still.

The ship remained in standby, holding position within the gravity well of a nearby planet.

Even though the multi-passenger shuttle carrying Count Vermilion and his attendants had docked safely, the ship had yet to move.

Erabelle had a faintly bad feeling about it.

***

There were definitely signs that something had happened.

Even by midnight, the ship had not broken orbit, and there had been no word from Dezeb.

The Dogs, too, seemed unusually subdued.

“Is something going on?”

“Well, we’re not really...”

Their responses were awkward.

They answered when she asked, but it was painfully obvious none of them wanted to be the one answering, and they kept finding excuses to slip away.

“If there’s anything you need, I’d really like to help.”

“No. Really, nothing’s wrong.”

Which sounded exactly like something was wrong.

Yet not a single one of them would give her a straight answer.

“Do you want to go see him?”

At the sudden question, Erabelle turned around.

“Dezeb’s in pretty bad shape right now. He was badly injured, and he’s recovering slowly.”

It was Virgo Hag.

This was the first time she had seen him in ages—not since his head had been cut off on Colony 80.

He seemed to have healed well. His face and nape were smooth, with no visible trace of the injury.

The fact that he was speaking to her with exaggerated politeness, however, suggested that he was not entirely normal either.

“Commander Dezeb... you mean?”

It was difficult to imagine a man capable of half-destroying Sanctuary on his own getting seriously hurt doing anything.

“Yes. Very badly.”

“Did he... hurt himself?”

“Lieutenant, you’re really sharp, huh?”

Virgo gave a crooked smile.

“Well, you’re about half right. Either way, the fact remains that he’s in bad shape.”

“Then...”

“Yes.”

His smile widened.

“If you go, you’ll be a tremendous help to him. In fact, what Commander Dezeb needs most right now is you.”

“...Me?”

It’s nice to be useful, but isn’t that laying it on a little thick...?

“I’ll give you 10,000 cp when you get back.”

“...”

“If you really don’t want to go, fine. But for the record, I did tell you Commander Dezeb needs you.”

“I’ll go.”

Virgo beamed at her immediate answer.

The other Dogs, however, all scowled at once.

《Chief, right now...》

“What?”

Virgo looked annoyed.

“We can’t just keep waiting like this.”

《Even so, where the hell are you sending the Lieutenant right now? Are you out of your mind?》

“Watch your mouth, kid. If the Lieutenant wants to go, you try stopping her.”

To Erabelle, Virgo appeared to be talking to himself.

What is this, some kind of one-man comedy?

Either way, judging by the atmosphere, the other Dogs were clearly against Virgo’s plan.

Erabelle silently cheered on the operations team’s tiny act of insubordination.

They proceeded to prepare a small craft anyway.

Dogs have neither conscience nor backbone.

“Lieutenant, how about changing your mind while you still can? You’ll regret this.”

“Then please break my leg. Or just hit me really hard in the back of the head...”

“We depart in five minutes.”

The Dog who had been helping her prepare recoiled from Erabelle as though she were carrying the plague.

Come on. That’s a little much, seriously.

Well, I was going anyway... and above all, this is all thanks to the Count.

Still, the way they’re acting leaves a bad taste in my mouth.

Erabelle clicked her tongue.

For once, the Dogs seemed to share a single collective mind.

《...What are you trying to pull?》

《You even slipped past the surveillance team kids. Their chief isn’t going to let this go.》

《What if the Lieutenant has a mental breakdown? She’s already not in great shape...》

《Humans go insane from seeing just a few tentacles, don’t they? In Master’s current state... what if she goes into shock and dies?》

《What the hell are you thinking?》

Virgo merely shrugged beneath the barrage.

“What do you think?”

Massaging the nape of his neck where it had once been severed, he answered calmly.

“I think there won’t be a problem.”

The Dogs fell silent.

“Even near the Molt, the Lieutenant had no issues. If she can do the same thing again this time... then...”

Then it’s real.

Then we truly have hope.

“Then I’ll gladly bow my head to her and serve her for the rest of my life as the lady of the house.”

The Dogs immediately began insulting their direct superior, telling him not to state the obvious.

“It won’t work.”

“Wish for something realistic.”

“Even the Marquis and his wife failed. How can you expect that from a young Lieutenant who isn’t even thirty?”

They were not praying for some miraculous salvation.

At best, they seemed to be hoping for a little more peace during this cycle.

Virgo smirked.

“Quit flapping your lips and place a bet. One million cp says the Lieutenant will be fine. If I lose, I’ll run to Defit.”

The Dogs shook their heads.

“Running won’t solve anything.”

“...”

“If something happens to the Lieutenant, even if you run to the edge of the universe, it won’t save you. Not Defit. Nothing.”

“...”

“The surveillance team kids got a ‘banquet notice’ just for letting Sanctuary get breached for a moment. If something happens to the Lieutenant, Chief, you’ll...”

“I’ll what?”

“It won’t end with a banquet, will it? Maybe you should appoint your successor now. How about me?”

“What nonsense are you spouting? You think it ends with me if something happens to the Lieutenant? You’re all finished too.”

“...”

“We’re already under emergency conditions because forced lichification caused mental instability. If we make things worse now?”

Virgo grinned at his teammates, whose faces had gone pale.

“Then that ‘banquet’ will feel like heaven.”

Still smiling, he glanced in the direction the Vermilions had gone.

Yeah.

Who knew?

Maybe she really would become their hope.

Still, Virgo decided it would be wise to prepare for the possibility that everything went horribly wrong.

Searching for effective suicide poisons, he asked,

“Anyone want in on a group purchase?”

“What do we have to take to actually die...?”

“I’m looking, dumbass.”

“You’re the one who caused this mess, Chief! Why are you dragging us into it?”

“If you really don’t want to end up on the banquet menu, hurry up and search too!”

“...Fuck.”

***

...Quiet.

Around that time, Dezeb clung to the half-wrecked ship, hanging limp as he stared silently into the gaping rift.

...

He needed to return.

But his wounds were not closing quickly enough, and he could not move.

The closer he came to the tipping point, the larger the rift would grow, and his condition would deteriorate along with it.

And the harder it became to maintain his human form, the more nakedly he felt his anger, contempt, and self-loathing.

Dezeb hung there like a corpse, waiting in silence for his body to recover.

Then his one remaining eye slit open.

He slowly pushed himself upright.

“Erabelle...?”

A small craft was forcing its way through the lingering smog around the dark rift.

“Erabelle.”

Some bastard had clearly arranged this.

He opened a channel and spoke in a coaxing tone.

“It would be better if you didn’t come here.”

[Perhaps you don’t need me?]

Erabelle’s voice came through the comm, cautious but matter-of-fact.

At the sound of it, Dezeb let out a hollow laugh.

“No, I do need you.”

He paused.

“I’m saying it would be better for you if you didn’t come.”

[If you need me, then I’ll come.]

The answer was so utterly predictable that, for a moment, he had nothing to say.

“...You really do have a habit of digging your own grave.”

[I-Is that my grave, then?]

“Maybe?”

Dezeb laughed.

“If I say it is, will you turn around?”

[I’m coming in.]