“Man, this Spirit Festival’s turned into nothing but an excuse to get drunk.”
“What do you mean by ‘turned into’?”
“I found out the truth: the real spirits haven’t actually seen this festival before.”
“W-wait, just because I haven’t seen it doesn’t mean Fire and Wind Spirits haven’t!”
”……Are they here?”
“They are! ……I’ve never seen them, though.”
”……So what does that even mean?”
The town of Helicon overlooks a lake to the south and a desert to the north. Recently, rumors had spread that many lizardmen were visiting. It was around late autumn, just before year’s end, when Gash Bell—a tailless lizardman axe warrior—and Heili Water (a pseudonym), a half-elf water spirit, arrived in town.
Fake conifer trees stood scattered throughout the streets (since true conifers are nearly nonexistent in the southern desert, each one was handmade by locals), adorned with red decorations. Green and red—the official colors of the Winter Spirit Festival.
Well, even though it’s called a “winter” festival, snow rarely falls in the southern desert. To put it bluntly, it bears little resemblance to how Trot people imagine winter celebrations. In this town, where temperatures barely dip into autumn-like coolness, all-night revelry unfolds instead.
One of the virtues of Celesta merchants is spending lavishly during festivals, even on money they’ve earned by keeping a flame lit under their fingernails day after day. Economic stagnation is seen as a personal failing; true businessmen thrive only when they can show off their prosperity in public.
Staying true to this creed, the town’s merchants had planned an unprecedented grand banquet since the town’s founding.
“This backwater town has got quite a bit of money for itself, huh?”
“If so many lizardmen are coming through, they must be making some serious cash, right?”
“No way… I mean, even the rumor that a dragon caused all this feels suspicious as hell.”
Gash Bell himself is part of the lizardman race that worships dragons, yet he’s never met one in his entire life. He can’t bring himself to dislike them when his own kind rejoices, but since dragons can shapeshift almost perfectly into humans, he suspects they might be pulling some kind of scam.
As a former soldier, Gash Bell is well aware of the terrifying power of Phantom Magic through military demonstrations. He’d often thought that even a skilled fox-beast or elf-type could probably pull it off if they put their minds to it.
“Whatever. If the economy’s this good, the Spirit Festival must be going full blast.”
“Yeah. Can’t wait.”
Heili leaned close to Gash, resting her head on his shoulder.
Though Gash isn’t particularly short for a lizardman, his species’ characteristic forward-leaning posture keeps his overall height modest. It was a small but pleasant surprise that Heili, whose stature could be described as slightly petite, didn’t look out of place leaning against him.
On the day of the Spirit Festival itself: As evening fell, the town’s festive atmosphere reached its peak.
“Gash, what’s that?! That!!”
“It’s fireworks! Student caravans from the Capital University sometimes bring them… I didn’t think they’d do it in a place like this.”
“Amazing! Even spirits of fire and light couldn’t pull something like that off!”
”……Could spirits of fire and light really do stuff like that?”
”……I don’t know, but if I could, I’d say water could create a spectacle just as impressive.”
“That’s great. Next time, let’s put on a show and make some money.”
“W-wait, no way! That’ll get us exposed for sure!!”
“Just kidding.”
Every few minutes, magical lights painted pictures across the sky. Taverns sprang up along the streets, offering open-air drinking spots.
One after another, someone would shout, “I’m treating everyone—drink up!” buying entire barrels of alcohol and serving them to those nearby, turning it into a friendly competition among friends.
Enthusiastic ogres kicked off a sumo tournament, while dark elves, humans, and lizardman merchants joined in, tossing each other playfully to elicit laughter. Yet some went all out with surprising seriousness, prompting cheers like, “Hey, who’s the ace knight from over there?”
Truly a chaotic and energetic festival befitting Celesta.
“Go for it, Gash!”
“Well, just watch.”
Gash steps into the sumo ring. His opponent is a middle-aged ogre. Though he’d challenged with a bit of courage fueled by alcohol, facing a brute race like the ogres sobered him up instantly. He muttered to himself, wondering if he’d made a mistake.
“Hah! Tailless lizard, can you take a hit? You better think about how you’re gonna fall, or it’ll hurt.”
“Heh, but even an ogre is still just an old man. Isn’t that posture starting to ache your lower back?”
“N-no way… No, no, I’m not saying you’d flip me over like that!”
“Who knows? Don’t underestimate a lizard’s strength.”
By the way, ogres tend to suffer from knee or back problems as they age due to their massive frames. Gash’s sharp eyesight wasn’t the issue; it was just playful banter. However, since lizards have expressions so different from humans and ogres, this kind of psychological play works surprisingly well on them.
“Alright, C-Stage Match #27… Let’s go!”
“Uoooooooh!!”
“Shaaaaa!!”
Gash grapples with the middle-aged ogre. Determined to show off a little for Heeri, he charges forward with renewed spirit. But the ogre, mindful of the sore lower back he’d been warned about, doesn’t brace himself against Gash’s advance. Instead, he half-heartedly waves his arms in front of him—leaving himself wide open.
“Now’s my chance!” Gash pushes harder, charging with full momentum. But the middle-aged ogre sidesteps him effortlessly.
”!?!”
Even though the ogre is nearly twice their size, simply getting into a proper grip proves difficult. With his long, massive arms, he could easily prevent other races from even making contact. So the opposing race frantically charges forward to avoid being blocked. Once that momentum is neutralized, there’s no way they can maintain their balance.
“I’ll buy your speed! But you’re out—get back in the ring!”
With a sharp shove against his back, Gash tumbles helplessly outside the boundary line. The surrounding audience bursts into laughter.
“D-dammit!”
“Come on, come on, it’s a festival, don’t take it so seriously, Tailless One.”
“That was quite a dash, Tailless One!”
The crowd soothes Gash’s frustration. Heeri approaches with a smile, gently patting his head.
“Ogres are strong, huh? Gash gets the Spirit Award!”
“Grrr… Even though I’m a warrior too!”
“Yeah, yeah, we all know you’re actually strong.”
“You know, it’s more important to win at marriage than sumo, Tailless One. That ogre guy’s wife is incredible.”
“Don’t talk bad about my wife! My ears are super sensitive!”
Laughter never ceases. Gash, sticking out his tongue with a chattering motion, endures the humiliation, though only another Lizardman would recognize that expression as one of shame.
The commotion continues well past midnight.
When the bell tolls to announce the hour, the crowd suddenly quiets down, closes their stalls, and begins making their way home.
“Huh? Gash, what’s everyone doing?”
“Ah… From now on, it’s the second half of the Spirit Festival.”
“Second half…?”
“Yeah.”
Panting slightly with a breath that smells of alcohol, Gash gently strokes Heili’s head as if tapping it.
“The Spirits have enjoyed the festivities until midnight. From here on out is their time under divine protection… that’s what they say.”
”?”
“Now, from this moment until dawn tomorrow, the Spirits will bestow their benevolent grace upon those who have been thoroughly satisfied. They’ll watch over families and lovers as they nurture their love.”
“Eh?”
“Well, for you, it might seem like you were just made to cause a ruckus without permission and then billed for it afterward, which isn’t very fun. But that’s exactly how everyone wants it—they want to be all affectionate.”
”…I see now. Everyone’s pretty shrewd, or rather, they’ve got this figured out quite well.”
”…How about us too, Heili? Shall we nurture some love?”
Gash murmurs with a breath reeking of alcohol.
Normally, he never speaks of love; instead, under the guise of mutual lust, they gradually give in to their desires. Yet even though it’s merely a pretense and relies on atmosphere, hearing Gash whisper “love” makes Heili blush deeply.
“W-What are you saying…?”
“Why wouldn’t we nurture it?”
Gash takes a small sip from his wooden cup, looking slightly disappointed. Once he finishes this drink, the open-air bar will have to close up.
“Nobody said anything like that.”
“You’re such a complicated one too.”
”…Hey, you seem to have forgotten, but I’m a Spirit, right?”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
”…And isn’t my role to show compassion?”
”…Huh?”
“So…”
Pressing her lips close to Gash’s ear, Heili whispers.
”…On days like this, there’s no choice but for me to show you compassion.”
“What a pretentious way to put it.”
Gash’s widely parted lips meet—or nearly meet—Heili’s small ones.
Then, a deafening roar and screams erupt.
”!”
Both look up at the sky and glance around nervously.
“Gash!”
Heery points. To the north, the sky has turned murky.
“What’s going on?”
“Maybe a sandstorm…”
“No, it’s not quite that… there’s some strange sound, screams…”
The sound of something heavy striking the ground. An explosive noise.
“That’s no good.”
Gash’s warrior instinct warns him: disaster is coming.
It’s the kind of disaster where a warrior must stand ready. His instinct prickles at the base of his limbs, rapidly pumping blood through his veins.
“Heery, let’s go!”
“Gash!?”
Gash dashes forward, still carrying his family heirloom twin tomahawks.
He unties the lock and leather binding that seals them together, gripping both axes with both hands. His arms still retain the sensation of being one with the weapons.
“That’s… no good!!”
Gash’s speed quickly transforms into that of a beast. After all, warrior lizards are strong by nature.
On the outskirts of town, people were being attacked by monsters.
A giant snake… no.
“A sandworm!? And it’s huge!!”
It was a sandworm, a massive annelid unique to deserts.
Even an average specimen is a nuisance, measuring five meters in length and several centimeters in thickness, and they’re omnivorous—eating scorpions, snakes, cacti, and sometimes even monsters.
But this one was a large individual, over a meter thick, attacking the residents.
“Help us, help us!!”
“Damn it!! If Lady Leila were here, she’d handle this kind of thing!!”
“Go to the Ogre Inn and wake up those guys!! Go to the gendarmerie station and call anyone you can find!!”
“How are those gendarmes supposed to deal with this!?”
“At least they’re better than nothing!! Worst case, they could at least guide us to safety… Ah, yikes!!”
And it doesn’t seem like there’s just one. From beyond the grove of palms, a grotesque giant can be seen writhing.
“Tch… I envy races that can see in the dark.”
Gash mutters as he sprints at full speed, swinging both tomahawks to strike the sandworm that has already latched onto a townsman.
“T-thank goodness!!”
“Hurry and run!!”
“I… I’m sorry, but there’s nothing else I can do!”
The townsman’s leg had been broken. Sandworms have no teeth, but their suction power can crush animal flesh into a pulp.
Heery runs up to the townsman as she catches up, placing her hand over his broken leg.
A sickening squelching sound emanates from that limb, and the townsman grimaces in pain, but the next moment, his foot has returned to its original shape.
“W-what…!?”
“Go! You can run!”
“Oh, okay!”
The townsfolk sprint away in panic. “Heely, you too, get out of here!”
Gash tries to strike the writhing Sandworm repeatedly, but its tough outer skin resists the blade’s edge, rendering his attacks ineffective. Confusion begins to cloud his expression.
“I’ve told you before—my true form is that water you’re holding! If this body escapes alone, it means nothing!”
“Tch.”
Gash glances at the silver flask strapped to his waist. It was an expensive purchase, filled with water infused with elemental cores—the very essence of Heely’s existence (though Gash still doesn’t fully understand them, he perceives them as soul-like).
This is the axis of Heely’s being; even if her manifested form were shattered into pieces, she could revive without issue so long as those elemental cores remained intact…
Though fear has kept him from testing such dangerous possibilities yet.
“You can stay here, but at least you’re useful now, right?!”
Gash shouts, and Heely retorts, “Of course I am! Spirits are meant to show mercy to people tonight!!”
“I’m talking about whether you’ll help us crush these bastards! If you want to show mercy, do it over there!”
With a roar, Gash swings his axe at the Sandworm lashing toward Heely. A blow that would have decapitated an ordinary creature instantly.
Yet the Sandworm shows no sign of being affected. “Damn it… as long as its tail remains…”
Gash grits his teeth. Had Gash’s own tail remained unharmed, his full-power horizontal slash might well have delivered a fatal blow to the Sandworm. Purely converting all his strength into impact, this strike would be impossible to dodge—unlike a simple cut.
But now, Gash’s tail hangs severed at about fifty centimeters from his hips, utterly useless.
“Water Spirit, don’t you dare underestimate me!!”
Behind Gash, Heely thrusts her hand forward, launching a spear of water. The sharp projectile strikes the Sandworm’s mouth directly, causing it to recoil in shock.
“It’s working!!”
“It’s not even close!”
“At least it works better than Gash’s attacks!”
“But we still can’t kill it!!”
While bickering, both struggle to keep the Sandworm at bay, inadvertently forming a surprisingly effective combination.
“Damn it… something like this requires pure brute force… where are those Orcs supposed to be?! They’re late!”
Gash growls in frustration. Yet the appearance of the Sandworm wasn’t isolated to this location alone; screams and explosions echo from all directions, but no reinforcements for Gash and his companions have yet arrived.
“Damn it… if only General Vincent were here right now…”
“Who’s that?!”
“Why are you getting angry?!?”
“She’s on our side as a spirit—what’s the problem?!”
“Don’t say things like that until we’ve defeated these monsters, you idiot!!”
Gash, once again, reflects on his final act of aid as a soldier. Though it was an overreach to hope for Overnight in such a desperate situation, he still craved that absurd offensive power.
“Damn it… All or nothing. I’ll smash the tomahawk into my own mouth!”
“You’re going to swallow it whole, aren’t you?”
“I guess so.”
The maw of the sandworm, over a meter in diameter, could easily have swallowed the tomahawk whole; even though they were bound by silk chains, once inside, extraction would be no easy task.
“Do you have any kind of ultimate move, Water Spirit-sama?!”
“There isn’t one! What do you expect from water, you idiot?!”
”…Something like a poison that makes your stomach turn?”
“I’ve got it ready. Next time we’re intimate, I’ll definitely serve you some poison—enough to keep you stuck in the toilet for a whole day.”
“Understood. I’m never going to sleep with you again.”
“I’m sorry! That was just a joke, so please don’t say mean things like that!”
“You weakling!!”
While relentlessly pounding the sandworm’s head, this affectionate couple had been bickering and flirting nonstop. If anyone were watching, they’d probably burst out laughing: “This is the Spirit Festival night after all.”
No.
“Hahaha! You two are so cute together!!”
They were indeed being laughed at aloud. “Who’s there?!”
Gash and Heili turned sharply, startled. Standing before them was a woman with dark skin and silvery hair, exuding an androgynous aura.
“That’s right.” The woman continued chuckling softly as she pointed toward the sandworms.
As the monsters closed in, Gash and Heili instinctively prepared to attack—
“Here’s a hint… No fireworks users have visited this town today.”
“Huh?”
“Hint number two.”
She swung her pointing finger sideways. In the next instant, one of the sandworms was suddenly sliced into rings with a sharp chun sound.
”!!”
Gash and Heili stood stunned. The woman calmly passed between them, then spread her arms toward the remaining sandworms.
“Hint number three: Tonight, I have the duty to cherish couples like you two.”
With an elegant half-spin, she turned her back to the swarm and faced Gash and his companions. A dazzling light bloomed across her back as if swelling with brilliance. Like a giant firefly suddenly scattering its glow, it erupted around them, swarming over the sandworms’ backs, heads, and mouths.
The light danced like fireworks seen at dusk, pulverizing the sandworms into a thousand fragments.
“Nice to meet you, warrior of the loving lizards and spirit of water.”
A deafening roar, clouds of sand smoke, and the green bodily fluids of the sandworms shooting upward.
“My name is Bright Light. I am one of the spirits of light.”
Unblemished by any of that chaos, she smiled warmly, though her appearance was indistinguishable from a dark elf.
(TBC)