Typemoon: Starting Out as the Lion King's Personal Knight [403] (Patreon)

A blizzard of silver-white howls through the air.

It is a storm that seems never to cease, one that has raged since the dawn of life itself.

Perhaps to the stars, this is but a chapter in an ever-changing history. But to the primates who now rule this world, it is eternity.

This is a history walked together with demonic beasts—

In order to withstand the unending blizzards and the monstrous creatures spawned by this world, humanity achieved its own evolution.

Fragility is evil, death is defeat; only the strong are praised as justice.

The law of the jungle is forever laid bare in this frozen land.

After breakfast, the girls strolled down the corridors of the Shadow Border, heading toward the control room.

Looking around at the corridors, Mash couldn’t help but exclaim in delight, “The inside of the Shadow Border is even more spacious than I imagined! That’s wonderful.”

“They say it’s because the internal space has been warped, making it twice as large as before.”

At this, Mash showed a hint of guilt. “Thanks to that, we’re able to have the bare minimum of living facilities. But it really feels bad making everyone stay in four-person dorms.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine.”

Fujimaru Ritsuka, holding Fou, smiled. “Mash, you’re staying in the medical room, right?”

“Mm! Since I need to undergo adjustments as a demi-servant, I’m using the medical room as a single room.”

Mash smiled. “As for the other single rooms—right, Director Goredolf is staying in the captain’s quarters, Da Vinci has a sealed chamber in the computer room, and Mr. Holmes is apparently staying in the workshop for now.

The rest are the climate control room, the storehouse, and the armory. According to the new director’s orders, those rooms are all off-limits.

So even though this place is as spacious as two large yachts, it’s only a few meters from here to the command room and the control deck.”

With that, Mash and Fujimaru Ritsuka entered the command room, where a heated argument was underway.

“Hey, why can’t we surface, you bumbling detective!?”

Director Goredolf, visibly agitated, demanded, “Why don’t we just surface? We should have already escaped the danger zone, right?!”

Life inside this submarine was stifling, and the mental strain was especially severe.

Not to mention, they were still in imaginary space. Who knew what would happen if they kept consuming supplies here?

“That’s not so simple. First, we need to define what you mean by ‘safe zone.’”

Holmes replied unhurriedly, “Are you saying that as long as there are no enemies nearby in this imaginary space, it’s safe? No, I have to strongly disagree, mister.

To begin with, in imaginary space, there aren’t supposed to be any enemies. So, worrying about being tracked by enemies is pointless. Rather than visible threats, we’re surrounded by something far more dangerous.”

With that, Holmes lit a cigarette and, to Goredolf’s astonishment, continued, “That’s right. In other words, what we should be worrying about is not ‘when to surface,’ but ‘how to surface.’”

“Y-you mean we can’t surface at all?”

Goredolf, face pale with fear, stammered, “H-h-Holmes! How can you say something so terrifying so easily?!”

“Good morning, everyone.”

Mash, smiling, broke the heavy atmosphere. “Fujimaru Ritsuka and Mash here, reporting in.”

“Oh, good morning, you two.”

Holmes smiled. “You’ve already had breakfast, I assume?”

“Yes, it was Italian-style military rations this morning. Senpai’s will be eaten later.”

Mash replied.

“Oh, so you lower staff eat rations. How miserable.”

Goredolf, having regained his composure, commented, “I had piping hot French toast and milk tea loaded with milk. That’s part of a captain’s duty—you need more calories if you’re in charge of the crew.”

“Honestly, always hogging the best supplies for yourself. Who do you think you are—?”

Meunière, nearby, grumbled.

“Never mind that! Back to the previous topic, Holmes!”

Goredolf demanded, “You’re saying we can’t surface, not that we won’t? What’s going on? I specially appointed you as Chaldea’s management consultant!

You should be grateful for my arrangement and explain everything properly to your new director!”

Holmes raised an eyebrow slightly and replied, “While I have little interest in official titles, management consultant is a post we’ve never had here before. To have my never-used abilities expected by others—honestly, it makes my heart leap.”

“So what’s the real situation, Holmes?!”

Goredolf pressed. “Can we be saved or not?”

“That question is too broad to answer directly, so let me clarify the possibility of surfacing.”

Holmes explained, “It’s not that we can’t surface—more precisely, we have nowhere to surface to.

To return from this imaginary space—a negative-number world—to reality, we need a ‘connection’ to the real world, like an anchor point.

In principle, anything existing in reality could serve as that connection. As long as it’s something related to one of us, we should be able to exit imaginary space normally.

However, right now, that’s impossible. In other words—”

Holmes paused, then said, “The Earth has entered a bleached state.”

“Hahaha, what nonsense. Bleached? As in, nothing left at all?”

Goredolf laughed. “True, we saw something terrifying in Antarctica—seven meteor-like things, giant falling objects.

Judging by that scale, they must have caused huge damage where they landed, maybe several times the Tunguska event, but that’s all. That level of impact couldn’t possibly wipe out every country on Earth.

And most importantly—yes, most importantly! The Clock Tower, which has existed since the start of the Common Era, could never be destroyed!

The Clock Tower in London is protected by hundreds of defense mechanisms, the greatest magical fortress! Even if the Earth were destroyed, the Clock Tower would remain!”

“That’s not it, Mr. Holmes—couldn’t Sir Alaric serve as our connection?”

Though she wanted to retort against Goredolf’s refusal to accept reality, what bothered Ritsuka more was that they’d lost their anchor.

Even if the world was bleached and their own world erased, Alaric wouldn’t be.

He could exist alone in any time and place, until his own destruction.

As long as Alaric exists, Chaldea should be able to return from imaginary space—so why did Holmes say otherwise?

“Well, to be blunt, Miss Fujimaru Ritsuka.”

Holmes, pipe in mouth, said, “We could use Sir Alaric as a surfacing point, but we can no longer guarantee safety.

According to Da Vinci-chan’s testimony, it’s clear Sir Alaric made some kind of contract with those who attacked Chaldea—at least, that only took effect after the world was bleached.

In other words, we don’t know where Sir Alaric is, what he’s doing, or whether he’s even in a safe place.

If we use him as our surfacing point, we might be walking right into the lion’s den.”

Holmes continued, “Not just the Clock Tower—every country on Earth has vanished. We don’t know where the rest of humanity has ended up. At the very least, it was because Kirschtaria Wodime was certain of this that he made that declaration.

Right now, we know nothing about the state of the world.”

“D-don’t say something so ridiculous! The world couldn’t be destroyed so easily, it’s impossible!”

Goredolf gritted his teeth, then noticed Mash and Meunière’s silent looks. Already at his limit, his spirit finally broke. “Impossible, right? Y-you all think so too, don’t you?”

“Director Goredolf, that said, there is actually one possibility for a surfacing point.”

Holmes smiled. “There’s still a connection on the surface related to us—yes, the army that attacked Chaldea, the killing hunters.

We know them, and they know us. Because of that relationship, we are not imaginary.

If we surface now, we’ll probably appear where they are.”

“Wouldn’t that mean we’d pop up right in the enemy base?”

Fujimaru Ritsuka asked, “That’s not much different from appearing near Sir Alaric, right?”

“Not quite. If Da Vinci-chan’s guess is correct, we wouldn’t just appear in the Killing Hunter’ base—”

Holmes narrowed his eyes. “We’d also see Sir Alaric again. Sir Alaric will definitely know the key points for surfacing from imaginary space, so if he wants to see us again, he would have to stay at the Killing Hunters’ base to make sure we appear there.”

“I see—we can’t actively choose Sir Alaric, to avoid another dangerous possibility, right, Mr. Holmes?”

Mash, understanding Holmes’s words, asked, “So, then—when do we surface?”

“We need to pick the perfect moment. Fortunately, we have the Paper Moon.”

Holmes said, “This compass can track both normal and imaginary space. We’ll use it to find the safest place to emerge—where there are no hostile presences nearby.

Right, Da Vinci? I think it’s about time for a conclusion.”

Saying this, Holmes looked up at the broadcast speaker above.

“Yes~! Good morning to everyone! This is your Da Vinci-chan!”

Da Vinci-chan’s energetic voice rang out from the broadcast. “Actually, I’ve been listening in on your conversation the whole time~~ As a living unit in the computer room, I have a perfect grasp of the submarine’s internal situation.

So, Director Goredolf, Holmes, don’t think you can hide anything from me, okay?

Ahem, anyway, I’ve pinpointed the Killing Hunters’ territory. Luckily, Sir Alaric’s area overlaps with theirs—although if you get more specific, there might be a difference of a whole country.

The route to surface near them is calculated. We’ve timed it with the right current, and in five minutes we’ll be able to set course—

Hm? The next current? If we miss this, it’ll be ten days later, by which time the Shadow Border will have basically run out of power. In other words—this is our only chance!

Oh, and by the way, according to the Paper Moon, if we hitch a ride on this current, the time difference with the surface will be about 90 days.

So, when we return, it’ll already be early April 2019. And honestly, that’s a pretty minor error. If we messed up, it could be a hundred years later!

If that happened, it’d all be over by then.”

…

Let’s set aside Chaldea’s return to the real world a few minutes later. At this moment, Alaric was finally putting his own plans into action.

Or perhaps he had begun long before.

Walking through the blizzard-shrouded lands of Russia, unnoticed by anyone, Alaric moved quietly through the settlements.

In this world, there were certainly humans, but they were an evolved species, a human race in name only, known as the Yaga—a lifeform specialized for the snow.

To survive in such a harsh environment, humans fused with demonic beasts, warping their appearance, even their minds and bodies, into something non-human.

The Yaga were wolf-like beings, humanoid in form, possessing human-level intelligence, and bodies strong enough to endure this world.

But all things have origins. The world’s harshness was a major factor, but the start of their evolution had another cause—the Emperor.

Hands in his pockets, Alaric stood on a high point, gazing at the distant palace.

Sleeping within that palace was Ivan the Terrible, absolute Tsar, ruler of this vast land.