Re:ZERO -Starting Life in Another World- Ex Vol. 3: The Love Ballad of the Sword Devil Read online

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  Copyright

  Re:ZERO -Starting Life in Another World- Ex, Vol. 3

  Tappei Nagatsuki

  Translation by Kevin Steinbach

  Cover art by Shinichirou Otsuka

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Re:ZERO KARA HAJIMERU ISEKAI SEIKATSU Ex3 KENKI RENTAN

  ©Tappei Nagatsuki 2018

  First published in Japan in 2018 by KADOKAWA CORPORATION, Tokyo.

  English translation rights arranged with KADOKAWA CORPORATION, Tokyo through Tuttle-Mori Agency, Inc., Tokyo.

  English translation © 2019 by Yen Press, LLC

  Yen Press, LLC supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact the publisher. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

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  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Names: Nagatsuki, Tappei, 1987– author. | Otsuka, Shinichirou, illustrator. | Steinbach, Kevin, translator.

  Title: Re:ZERO starting life in another world ex / Tappei Nagatsuki ; illustration by Shinichirou Otsuka ; translation by Kevin Steinbach.

  Other titles: Re:ZERO kara hajimeru isekai seikatsu ex. English

  Description: First Yen On edition. | New York : Yen On, 2017.

  Identifiers: LCCN 2017036833 | ISBN 9780316412902 (v. 1 : pbk.) | ISBN 9780316479097 (v. 2 : pbk.) | ISBN 9781975304263 (v. 3 : pbk.)

  Subjects: | CYAC: Science fiction. | Time travel—Fiction. | BISAC: FICTION / Science Fiction / Adventure.

  Classification: LCC PZ7.1.N34 Ref 2017 | DDC [Fic]—dc23

  LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2017036833

  ISBNs: 978-1-9753-0426-3 (paperback)

  978-1-9753-0427-0 (ebook)

  E3-20190320-JV-NF-ORIN

  Contents

  Cover

  Insert

  Title Page

  Copyright

  The Love Ballad of the Sword Devil: What Became of Them

  The Love Ballad of the Sword Devil: The Wedding Day

  The Love Ballad of the Sword Devil: The Silver Flower Dance of Pictat

  The Love Ballad of the Sword Devil: Lovers’ Interlude

  Afterword

  Yen Newsletter

  THE LOVE BALLAD OF THE SWORD DEVIL

  What Became of Them

  1

  The light was dim here, and the air was dry.

  The place was lonely and cold. Faint illumination from the tepid crystal lights shone chill against the hard stone walls and floor. The wind that found its way underground was cutting, a harsh reminder that the cold season had arrived.

  “—”

  For a very long while, he had lived totally cut off from the seasons or the passing of time. He had dedicated himself utterly to one single thing, spending the rest of his time on only the most minimal sleeping and eating—he practically lived like an animal.

  But those days had ended, and now he was here.

  Could he hold his head high and say there had been meaning to his dedication? He didn’t know.

  “…Hey, you,” came a voice. “Yeah, you there. Hey, are you listening to me?”

  “—”

  “You deaf, new kid? Or maybe you’re dead? Heeey!”

  The voice reached him where he was leaning absently against the wall.

  He lifted his head and looked in the direction of the sound. Among the murky darkness was a set of iron bars, a passageway beyond the barrier, then more bars, and finally the owner of the voice, looking gleefully at him.

  Two people, examining each other from behind two sets of iron bars—a picture that revealed that they were in prison.

  “Finally bothered to look my way, eh? You’ve got an awfully big attitude for someone who just got here… Or maybe the poor newcomer, racked with despair, has decided the world isn’t worth paying attention to? Well, whatever! You wouldn’t be the first. Mmm? Hang on there. I didn’t notice right away ’cause it’s so damn dark and you’re so damn dirty, but you’re pretty young, eh?”

  “…alking.”

  “—? What’s that?”

  “I said, you sure like talking. You’re the type who could chat with himself all day long, am I right?”

  The sarcastic barb came reflexively. The unpleasant attitude was a bad habit of his, he remembered. He sighed slightly, playing with the hair on his forehead.

  His brusque reply, however, only made his new friend smile even wider. “You’re right about that. I love to talk, I love to laugh—if you’ve heard of Olfe Six-Tongue, that’s me. And your luck ran out the minute they put you in the cell across from me. You might end up free or dead…whichever. Till it comes, it’ll be just you and me, passin’ the time.”

  “‘Six-Tongue’…?”

  “It’s, whaddayacallit, my nom de crime. They caught me back during the war, when I found six girls in the noble quarter who were lonely and scared, and I went around trying to make the lot of ’em feel better all at once. I told every one of ’em a different story, so I was called Six-Tongue because it was like I had a different tongue to use for each of them.”

  “So you’re a common swindler, or a pimp. Pretty impressive, getting thrown in the royal prison for that.” The young man was taken aback by the calm demeanor of the prisoner smiling through the gloom.

  He focused his eyes, and indeed, beyond the far set of iron bars was a sensual-looking man with long hair. He was fair skinned and lanky, with a charm and beauty that suggested a touch of high society.

  The man who called himself Olfe looked across at the boy. “If you think it’s so funny, me being down here, let’s hear how amusing your life story is. If you don’t mind my saying, it’s no mean feat, getting tossed in the castle dungeon. What did you do to deserve it, eh?”

  “Good question. Me, I…”

  He stopped speaking and considered Olfe’s question in silence for a moment. The answer soon came to him, however.

  “I just took my woman back from a bastard I didn’t like.”

  “—”

  “At least, that’s what I thought I was doing, but one thing led to another. And here I am.” He shook his head in exasperation, letting out a long sigh at the series of events that had led him to prison.

  Olfe put a hand to his mouth, but he couldn’t contain his
explosion of laughter. “Bwa! Bwa-ha-ha-ha! Well, hell, kid, you and I are in the same boat!”

  “Don’t be stupid. I’m nothing like a man who cheated on six people. For me, there was only one.”

  “There’s no difference! It was enough to get you thrown in jail anyway. Was the bastard a noble or a knight? …Or maybe the girl was special. How about it?”

  “I’ll leave that to your imagination,” the young man said after a pause.

  Olfe continued to laugh so hard he was slapping his knees, more than happy to let his mind come up with its own take on the subject.

  The young man had no intention of telling him the truth. Objectively, however, there really wasn’t such a vast difference between his and Olfe’s circumstances. At the very least, it was true that both of their troubles involved a woman.

  “Ahh, I like you, kiddo. I foresee prison life getting a lot more fun for a while.”

  “You want to laugh, be my guest,” the young man replied. “But I suspect I’m going to disappoint you.”

  “Hrm?” Olfe grunted.

  The answer to his unspoken question came shortly but not from the cell across the hall—instead, it came from the door of the prison, at the stairwell leading up. There was a sharp click of boots landing on stone; it was a royal knight who stopped in front of the cell. He looked down at the young man within and narrowed his eyes behind his visor.

  “Get out,” he said imperiously. “Someone’s here for you.” Then he opened the cell door. The young man got to his feet with palpable annoyance, then came out of the cell, the knight glancing at him as if to hurry him up.

  “Well now, never thought we’d be saying good-bye so soon,” Olfe said, pursing his lips enviously as the knight led the young man by. “I’ll be lonely in here by myself. And I’m jealous you seem to have a very kind friend.”

  “I wonder about that.” The young man smiled wryly at the lothario’s words, picturing the “kind friend” who waited for him. Then the youth—Wilhelm Trias—winked and said, “Depending how angry she is, it may turn out to be a death sentence yet.”

  And then he left the dungeon.

  2

  “Would you rather have been executed? It’s not too late to change the sentence, you know.”

  When Wilhelm emerged from below ground to the surface, he was greeted by a cool breeze, sunlight, and the quiet growl of his rescuer.

  The cell Wilhelm had occupied until just a moment earlier was within the fabled Prison Tower, adjacent to the royal castle. It was famous as the place where the most heinous of criminals were imprisoned, where the guards were every bit as frightening as the inmates.

  The beautiful young woman cut a strange figure in a place like this. Even as angry as she obviously was, it was impossible not to fall in love with her at first sight.

  She had hair red as flame that fell to her waist, and eyes as blue as the open sky. She had slender, pale limbs and a healthy figure with lovely symmetry. Her features were impeccable; she had an airy beauty like a flower in the sun.

  Theresia van Astrea was her name—the name of this handsome and furious young woman.

  “Wilhelm?” She fixed him with a stern look, but he had been so taken by the mere sight of her that he had lost his voice. Loath for her to realize it, however, he held up his hands.

  “Right, I understand, I’m sorry,” he said, giving a pointed shake of the restraints around his hands. “Think you could take these off?”

  “Oh, for… I wonder if you really do understand.”

  Annoyed by the perfunctory reply, Theresia nonetheless gave a shake of her right hand. Instantaneously, her pale fingers cut the restraints clean in half.

  The wood board that had encased his hands fell noisily to the ground. Wilhelm gently worked his freed wrists, making sure they still had feeling in them. Then he noticed how Theresia was looking at him. She had squinted her round eyes and pursed her lips.

  “What’s wrong?” Wilhelm asked. “Something happen?”

  “What’s wrong…? You’re the one who was thrown into jail with hardly a word of explanation. Aren’t you surprised? Or angry? Don’t you want to know what’s going on?”

  “I crashed a royal ceremony. I’m grateful I managed to escape with my life.”

  “So you at least recognize the magnitude of what you did… I’m almost a bit surprised.” Theresia smirked.

  “Eh, y’know,” Wilhelm agreed with a shrug.

  The commotion Wilhelm had caused had been a matter of tremendous import for the Dragonfriend Kingdom of Lugunica. Had it not been for the mercy of His Majesty, Jionis Lugunica—a well-known quality of the ruler—Wilhelm might well have been executed as a traitor.

  “You know that if His Majesty hadn’t intervened, you might have been put to death on the spot, right? Has that even sunk in?”

  “You think some soldiers could execute the guy who beat the Sword Saint? I know our king isn’t renowned for his strategic mastery, but even he wouldn’t waste soldiers on something as stupid as that right after a civil war just ended.”

  “You are much too confident! And irreverent, to boot! I can’t believe you’re so full of yourself!”

  “Besides, there wasn’t enough strength in that whole gathering hall to face down you and me.”

  “And that’s the other thing! Don’t just assume that I would fight on your side…”

  These were not very well-considered proclamations to be making within a stone’s throw of the castle, let alone with a knight walking practically alongside.

  As a matter of fact, the knight, overhearing their conversation, found his eyes bugging out of his face, but he quickly chose to act as if he hadn’t heard anything. It was a wise decision.

  Theresia was too busy turning first red and then pale to notice this small act of self-protection.

  Wilhelm took a step closer to Theresia and gazed directly into her eyes.

  “…Y-yes, what is it?” she said.

  “Even with the world against us, I know whose side I would be on. You should, too.”

  “—! You, sir, simply do not understand people’s feelings…!”

  “—? I know how you feel better than anyone. You’re talking nonsense—are you okay?”

  “Wait! Just hold it right there, please. You’re going to confuse me to death…!” Theresia looked away, red up to her ears, flailing her arms. Her expression could instantly change at any moment—from anger to exasperation to embarrassment.

  “—”

  No matter how much I see of her, I’ll never get tired of it.

  How often during their separation had he imagined his reunion with Theresia? But now he found it was nothing like what he had pictured.

  The real Theresia, standing there before him, was so much sweeter and more beautiful than anything he had remembered.

  “Theresia.”

  “What?! My mind is very busy right now! And a certain someone is to blame for—”

  “Come here.”

  “—”

  Wilhelm opened his arms to the yelling, gesticulating Theresia. The curt gesture was enough to leave her with eyes wide, lost for words.

  There was a moment of silence and hesitation. Wilhelm simply stood with open arms, waiting for Theresia’s reaction.

  In the face of this unpretentious act, Theresia could only smile weakly.

  “…Sigh. I guess this means I lose.”

  “I think we settled that already.”

  “Not! What! I! Meant! This is completely different! Sheesh…”

  Wilhelm looked genuinely puzzled; Theresia gave him her most annoyed sigh, then took a step forward. She flew into his open arms, nuzzling her forehead against his neck.

  Wilhelm embraced her, the heat of her body nearly burning him. Her frame was so delicate it seemed she might snap in two if he hugged her too hard, yet he couldn’t keep himself from pulling her in as close as he could.

  Each embraced the other as tightly as they could, and from the man’s chest,
the woman looked up and said, “Welcome home, Wilhelm. You kept this girl waiting for too long.”

  The man looked down at the woman in his arms and replied, “You’re right, Theresia. I’m sorry for making you wait.”

  To touch Theresia, to see her so close, Wilhelm couldn’t help smiling as well.

  It was a chance to be so near to each other that their breath mingled, and they could feel each other’s pounding hearts—to the two of them, this was as good as a miracle.

  “—”

  This girl was precious to him, and he had reached her finally, realizing a wish no normal person could have made to come true.

  Wilhelm gently stroked Theresia’s red hair with a hand hardened by much time holding a sword. Theresia’s face softened as she embraced him at last, sharing a moment no one would disrupt. Then she pressed her face back into his chest, breathing his smell deeply.

  “Wilhelm.”

  “What?”

  “…You stink.”

  It was, perhaps, not the most romantic end to their reunion.

  3

  The Demi-human War, the civil conflict that had plagued the Dragonfriend Kingdom of Lugunica for so long, had finally ended.

  Nine years of turmoil had been brought to a finish by just one girl—the Sword Saint, Theresia van Astrea.

  She had a prowess with the blade worthy of the legendary title of Sword Saint, and as she led the royal army to victory, her name became known throughout the land, a feat earned her showers of honor and praise.

  This Sword Saint, beautiful and stalwart, was the embodiment of people’s hopes and ideals. When a royal ceremony was held commemorating the end of hostilities, people from across the nation crowded in, hoping to get a glimpse of her.

  The moment Theresia appeared in the great hall, she was instantly the focus of every eye. If the ceremony had then gone on uninterrupted, she would have been left with an unshakable reputation as the Sword Saint, and her name would have echoed down the history of Lugunica into eternity.

  But that was only if nothing had happened—and something did.