by Yuu Tanaka
A hunter and a competent scout… This Rosch looked like an all-rounder. He was strong, too—about as strong as an A-Rank adventurer. The man put his hands on his waist. It was a childish gesture considering his age, but it somehow looked natural on him.
“Damn it, Rosch…”
“I take my eyes off you for one second!” Rosch lectured the Beast King. The lean, gray-haired man took a potion out of his pocket and emptied it over Zehmet. It must’ve been a potent one, because Zehmet’s grave wounds immediately started to heal. He was now only half dead instead of nearly dead.
“I can’t believe you would fight a Black Cat… Have you forgotten your mission?!”
“No, look. This girl is friends with Blue Pride for some reason…”
“That is no excuse. You didn’t have to send a blazing inferno after her! You were about to kill her, you muscle-brained dolt!”
“Now now, Rosch,” the second of the new arrivals cut in. It was Royce. “Lord Rig, we have apprehended the members of Blue Pride who are suspected of dealing in the slave trade. The rest have been dealt with in self-defense.”
Wait…what?
They’d captured the members of Blue Pride who were involved in slavery? What was the Beast King playing at?
It was clear the fight was over. Fran still maintained her guard, but her murderous intent was gone. Royce was already tending to Zehmet with some healing spells. This might just be the biggest misunderstanding we’d gotten ourselves into yet.
Fran turned to the Beast King. “What’s going on?”
“You didn’t tell her, did you, Your Majesty?”
“Well…umm…” The Beast King avoided Royce’s gaze and scratched his cheek.
“You picked a fight with her on the spot without trying to explain the circumstances, didn’t you?”
“Urk…” The Beast King bit his lip. He looked like a child in the middle of being scolded.
“Are you hurt, young lady?”
“No…”
“Really now? That’s amazing. And are you involved with Blue Pride?”
Fran looked troubled by the degree of respect Rosch was showing her. “I’m friends with Zehmet. Just him, though. I hate the rest of them.”
“I see. Your Highness?”
“Well, isn’t this an interesting turn of events?”
Rosch and Royce stared at the Beast King until the ruler threw his hands up in defeat.
“Fine! I’m sorry! Gods!”
“Why were you trying to kill Zehmet?”
“He was covering for the rest of his crew.”
“Goodness… Allow me to explain,” said Rosch. “This has been a fundamental misunderstanding. His Majesty the Beast King is apprehending Blue Cats in order to protect Black Cats.”
“What?”
“I knew it…”
The story unfolded from there. Apparently, Beast King Rigdith was opposed to slavery and was, in fact, trying to put a stop to it. That was what had prompted his coup against his own father. He’d killed the previous king to take his place on the throne.
“The old man didn’t put up much of a fight. All the bribes he took made him weak.”
“That man was a politician first and foremost,” Royce agreed, unfazed.
Rigdith had become an adventurer so he could execute his coup. When all the A-Ranks in the beastman country were his to command, it was easy to overthrow the previous king. He got rid of the slavers and spies his father kept, and was now on a mission to set the Black Cats free.
And I didn’t detect a single lie in any of that.
The Beast King really wanted to set the Black Cats free, and he really was in the middle of putting an end to the slave trade. Fran couldn’t believe it. “So why were you fighting with Zehmet?” she asked again, still suspicious.
If Zehmet had obeyed Rigdith’s orders to hand over the slavers in Blue Pride, he probably would’ve gotten away with a slap on the wrist. But Blue Pride was like his family, and he couldn’t bring himself to betray them, even if they deserved it. He’d pleaded with the Beast King to delay his judgment and give them time to change. Given Rigdith’s temper, that was enough to bring them to blows. That was when Fran interrupted.
Now that I thought about it, Rigdith had never actually belittled the Black Cats. He’d said, “Anyway, you seem to be chummy with him. Can’t imagine why, what with you being Black and him Blue,” and “Such beautiful friendship between a Black Cat and a Blue! It’d be funny if it weren’t so twisted!”
Clearly, he’d meant all of that. He might have been provoking Fran, but he genuinely couldn’t understand why she was defending Zehmet. As we continued our conversation, his guards brought in the captured members of Blue Pride.
“Curses…” Zehmet lamented, still on his knees.
“Hate me all you want. But I was clear when I told the Blue Cat tribe to put a stop to that slavery stuff. Your men and your sister ignored my explicit orders. You’re partly responsible for this.”
“I…understand.” The Beat King’s words only deepened Zehmet’s pain. If he’d known about his tribe’s underhanded dealings, he could have acted sooner. All of this might have been avoided. “How many…are left?”
“About twenty.”
“I…I see.” That seemed to sap the life out of Zehmet. Blue Pride had been a large mercenary band. Only twenty survivors? I couldn’t imagine his pain.
“The ringleaders, Lord Rig.” Gaudartha brought two Blue Cats forward. They were bound and tied, and he held the rope. “These are the two members of the previous Beast King’s slave syndicate.”
“Senec, Tord…have you been lying to us all?” Zehmet sounded dumbfounded that the two old cats had been apprehended. He must’ve trusted these two with his life.
Much as he must have wanted them to deny it, the old men knew that the time for excuses was past. “Hmph…damn Black Cats can’t even evolve… What’s wrong with putting them to work…?”
“That’s right! If anything, we’re making their existence worthwhile!”
“But you’ve always supported us. All the way back since my grandfather’s time…”
Senec and Tord had been with Blue Pride since it was a small crew. They’d only held advisory positions of late, but still took advantage of their station to carry out underhanded deals behind the scenes. They’d brought Zehmet up to hate slavery as a cover, so that no one would ever suspect them. The rest of the tribe, like Zehmet’s little sister, were taught to see Black Cats as inferior filth. The old schemers were good at hiding their crimes, and knew that even if Zehmet found out, he was far too kind to suspect them.
“But I suppose we went too far in your education. All that idealistic nonsense really got on my nerves.” Senec’s scoff was aimed at Zehmet as much as Rigdith.
“Big talk for a Tailless,” said Fran.
“Don’t you dare call me that!”
Tailless? I asked.
Beastmen who have lost their tails.
Tails were a status symbol among long-tailed tribes. You could easily lose yours in the heat of battle, especially if you were trying to flee. The old man Senec lacked his tail. I’d thought he might be hiding it in his pants, but apparently that wasn’t something beastmen did.
I guess you learn something new every day.
He glared at Fran. “If it weren’t for you Black Cats…my tail would be…”
“Hm?”
“Damn you! Don’t look at me! You look just like her…!”
“Her?”
“Her! Kiara! The little brat who took my tail!”
“You know Kiara?”
“Damn right I do! Good riddance to that filthy little wench!”
These old men knew the Black Cat adventurer who’d set off to find the secret to Evolution fifty years ago, who we suspected was kidnapped by the Blue Cats on the previous Beast King’s orders. She must’ve had a run-in with Blue Pride. No wonder they were eager for revenge.
“Good thing the old Beast King dealt
with her! She’s probably a slave in some terrible corner of the world! Good riddance! Mwa ha ha!” Senec cackled.
Fran approached him with me in her hand. Watching the old man laugh at the misery of her kind sent her over the edge. She seethed with rage.
Fran, wait!
Senec and Tord probably had information on the slave syndicate, and killing them would probably upset the Beast King.
You can’t kill them!
“Hrmph…”
You can do whatever else you want, but don’t kill them!
Fine.
Fran stopped, although her rage was far from quelled. I had no intention of preventing her from letting it out. She got down to Senec’s level and struck him across the face. The Beast King allowed it, knowing that—painful as it was—she was pulling her punches.
“Aaargh! Aiee! Gaaah!”
“Heal.”
“What? Aaaargh! Ack!”
“Heal.”
“Aieee! P-please, no mo—hurk!”
Senec had no escape. He could only howl for mercy. Fran healed him whenever he started to faint, denying him the pleasure of unconsciousness. She beat him—I counted thirty punches, at least—until Senec’s tears and stomach acid finally moved her to stop.
She worked on Tord next. He immediately pleaded for forgiveness, but it was too late for apologies—fifty years too late.
“Hmph.”
“Aaargh! Oorf! Hurk!”
“Heal.”
Another thirty or so punches later, Fran stopped. Zehmet could only watch as his elders got their just desserts. As deserving as they were of the beatdown, the brutal sight still evoked Zehmet’s pity. When she finally stopped, he sighed in relief.
“Heal.”
“Huh?”
Only problem was, Fran wasn’t done yet.
“Your turn again.”
Fran healed Senec and resumed her punishment. She probably needed a few more laps to calm down.
Zehmet shouted in protest. “W-wait! There’s no need to… Well…I guess after all they’ve done…”
He backed down, remembering their crimes. He might still have tried to stop her if there was plausible deniability, but the accused had admitted quite loudly that they were to blame for Kiara’s disappearance, not to mention the slavery. He knew that Fran was completely justified.
However, someone else stopped her—someone we didn’t expect.
“Calm down, kid. I know you can heal him, but I can’t risk breaking his mind. We still got questions for them both,” said the Beast King.
Unable to ignore him, Fran stopped. Rigdith bent over Senec and threw him a question. “So, by Kiara, do you mean Old Kiara?”
The question startled the old man. “Old…Kiara?”
“You know: amazing swordswoman, quiet, always looks like she’s chewing on a sour lemon? Uhh…how old is she again, Royce?”
“Inquiring about the master’s age is akin to suicide, Lord Rig.”
“Godo?”
“I hear she turned sixty some years ago,” Gaudartha answered. “She’s probably in her late sixties now.”
“All right. So when did my old man kidnap your Kiara?”
“About fifty years ago,” Fran answered for Senec.
“Do you know how old she was then?”
“Fifteen, I think.” If she were still alive now, she’d be sixty-eight.
“I see… Well, that settles it. The Kiara you’re talking about is our master, Old Kiara.”
Did he just refer to Kiara as his master? Fran rushed towards the Beast King.
“What? What do you mean?” She got up in his face, all her fear gone.
“You know, I’m still royalty. You ever hear of etiquette?”
“Talk.”
“Oh fine, dammit! Just get off.”
“Hm.”
Rigdith was weaker under pressure than he looked. The Beast King scratched his cheek and explained.
When Rigdith was a young lad, he met a Black Cat slave going about her duties in the Beast King’s court. Like every other beastman, he’d looked down on her. All that changed when he turned seven, and an enemy conjurer sneaked into the palace. He’d summoned a terrible monster that killed most of the king’s warriors and soldiers. Gaudartha, a new recruit, was half-dead. Royce, then an apprentice mage, was gravely wounded. Rigdith himself was almost killed.
The attack had taken place during a war, when the king’s finest men were out on the frontlines. There was no one to stop the rampaging Tyrant Sabertooth monster, and all the ways out, even the wells, had been deviously blocked off.
“I was so scared that I thought I was seeing things.”
The Black Cat slave, whose only job was waste disposal, had disposed of the menacing monster in seconds. The Tyrant Sabertooth might have been just a cub, but it was still a C-level threat. The Black Cat had fended it off and killed it with a mop. No wonder the young Rigdith had thought he was hallucinating. Anyone would.
Rigdith was even more shocked when he learned that the woman’s sole duty was taking out the trash. With her abilities, she could easily have been a conscripted slave, purchased to serve in the army. Her talents were wasted on menial labor. How did she get so strong?
The Black Cat’s name was Kiara, and she became his first friend. Because of his status, young Rigdith had no companions, but Kiara didn’t seem to care. He decided she should teach him how to fight. Kiara was opposed to this at first, but Rigdith wore her down.
Kiara’s spartan discipline made the young Rigdith strong in body and mind. Soon, Gaudartha and Royce became Kiara’s secret disciples, as well. The young prince didn’t ask them to, but they saw what the Black Cat was capable of with their own eyes. They sheepishly asked her, and she shrugged as she accepted. What was two more pupils to teach?
That said, they had to train in secret. Kiara’s only condition was that they not tell a soul—especially among the nobility. She knew there would be trouble if word got out that the prince was being taught by a slave.
Now, standing before us, the three beastmen recalled their days of training in the sewers, reeking of death and corruption.
“Not a day went by that I didn’t nearly die.”
“Agreed. Master Kiara is a harsh taskmaster.”
“They said military training was hell, but it felt like a spa compared to Master’s tutelage.”
Eventually, Rigdith tried to free Kiara from slavery, but she objected, explaining that his father had threatened to kill other Black Cats should she try to escape. The king had only spared her life because of her strength. Mercy had nothing to do with it. If Kiara had fought back, she and other members of the Black Cat tribe would’ve been killed.
Although he couldn’t free her, their time together changed something in young Rigdith’s mind. Rig opposed the widespread discrimination against Black Cats, and began his mission to free them. He started by looking into the secrets of Black Cat Evolution—the inability which was the main cause of their slavery. He didn’t have much luck until his father pulled him aside to let him in on a secret which only the royal family was privy to: the secret of the feud between the reigning royal family and the Black Cats, and how that feud made the Black Cat tribe lose their ability to evolve.
“The old man must’ve thought he was doing me a favor, trying to wake me up. Probably thought it’d get me to stop defending them.”
But it had the complete opposite effect. Even if the powers that be allowed it, Rig knew the way the Black Cats were treated was wrong. In fact, the knowledge only increased his resolve. Arguments between the king and his son grew until they eventually exploded into a full-blown coup. Rigdith emerged the victor.
Teacher?
He’s telling the truth.
The Beast King wasn’t lying, for the most part. What few lies I sensed were in his comments about Kiara being “a lonely old hag who had no sense of common decency.” Rigdith was incredibly roundabout with the people he cared for.
“How is sh
e now?”
“She’s back in the castle. Mostly retired, what with her age. Spends most of her days sleeping, although she still trains the soldiers when she feels up to it.”
“Not a soul in the court ever ridicules the Black Cats for being weak now,” said Royce.
“You can say that again,” the Beast King agreed.
Fran didn’t know how to respond. She could only stare in stunned silence.
Senec, of all people, was the one who spoke up to object. “I won’t have it! Are you going to eliminate the Blue Cats and replace us out of spite?!”
“Old man, it’s got nothing to do with race. I’m just using the best people for the job. Still, the Black Cats are long overdue for a break.”
“Do you really not understand the position your tribe is in?” Royce said.
There were two major reasons why the Blue Cats might end up like the Black Cats they oppressed. First, the slave trade. Their custom of enslaving Black Cats made it hard for the other tribes to trust them. Unbelievable as it might sound, the Blue Cats used to work for the Black Cats. In fact, it might be the reversal of this very relationship that made the other tribes as wary of them as they were.
Second, there had been a dramatic weakening of the Blue Cats’ abilities. Because of their focus on trade—especially slaves—the Blue Cats had made themselves exempt from fighting and hard labor. They had few warriors, and even fewer evolved. Zehmet was the exception. Most of the Blue Cats today were descendants of the previous Beast King’s slavers. Those who dared oppose the old king had been dealt with. Their entire class of fighters were killed and replaced with slave merchants. The Blue Cats of today hated fighting, and much preferred to resort to underhanded tricks. The other tribes didn’t think much of them.
Fran wasn’t much for politics. She only wanted to make the lives of Black Cats better, and that didn’t necessarily involve making the lives of the Blue Cats worse. Still, she kicked Senec in the face to shut him up.
“I’m just glad to hear Kiara’s still alive,” she told the Beast King. “Can I tell other people about this?”
“Who do you have in mind?”