by Hyougetsu
So in the end, I was stuck devising a way to train the werewolves on my own. I guess even if my training methods aren’t the best, the Blast Rifles are powerful enough that it doesn’t matter.
“Ryucco, is that other thing I asked for usable yet?”
Ryucco stared sadly down at the last apple slice and nodded.
“It can fire just fine. But I’m worried about the axle’s stability, so I’ve asked Jerrick to smith me a new one.”
I was staring at something that resembled a cannon. It had been made by sticking six Blast Rifles together and was effectively a Gatling gun. Mages like me could freely control their mana, so we could reload a Blast Rifle faster and more often. I’d asked Ryucco to make me something more powerful so I could provide covering fire.
Charging up six Blast Rifles at once took a considerable amount of mana. The combined Gatling gun had pretty good range and could fire rapidly. But I wanted to keep its existence secret, so hopefully I wouldn’t have to use it. Kite and Lacy were here as well, and they leaned against the Gatling gun.
“Kite and I can handle one rifle each, and Mister Parker can load up to two at once. But that’s as much as we’re capable of.”
“So could you take care of the last two, Veight?”
“Yeah, I can do that.”
Operating it took multiple mages, so I’d decided to bring Kite, Lacy, and Parker with me to Rolmund. All three of them were capable of using other magic that might come in handy as well. Mao was also in the room, standing off to the side.
“I fail to comprehend why I have to accompany you as well.”
“I don’t have enough diplomats, so I figured I’d take a certain crafty merchant along. You don’t look very busy, anyway.”
If my plan was to succeed, I’d need skilled negotiators. Since trade had started to slow down, I figured Mao would be free enough to come. Mao shrugged his shoulders.
“I suppose I am free.”
“Besides, you would have complained if I didn’t invite you.”
At that, Mao smiled and said, “But of course. Rolmund is bound to be rife with profitable trading opportunities. And I’m sure to make it home safely if I’m traveling with you.”
“I’m not making any promises about anyone’s safety.”
Why do you trust me so much?
* * * *
—Ryucco’s Grading Scale—
Ryucco stood at the corner of one of Ryunheit’s streets, a loaf of fried flatbread in his hands. He took a carrot and a slice of pumpkin from his vegetable case and wrapped the bread around them. That moron, why does he always ask me if I want to put sauce on this? Ryucco preferred savoring the taste of the ingredients themselves, so he wasn’t a fan of sauces. But a certain werewolf seemed to love them. The first time Ryucco had met Veight, he’d thought he was a human. He’d completely let his guard down, and just when he’d started becoming friends with Veight, the werewolf had shown his true colors. The first time Ryucco had seen Veight’s werewolf form, he’d fainted.
Damn werewolf. According to Veight, werewolves specialized in hunting humans, but that didn’t mean lagomorphus weren’t scared of them. In fact, lagomorphus were instinctively terrified of anything with a wolf’s face.
But despite being a werewolf, Veight had been a gentle person. Of course, all of Gomoviroa’s disciples were kind people, but Ryucco felt Veight was especially kind. He wasn’t like Melaine, who was always fussing over people, or Parker, who was always messing around while hiding his true feelings. Veight was also the first of Gomoviroa’s disciples who wasn’t a necromancer. His talent was just that great.
But I ain’t losing to you! Ryucco saw Veight as his rival, since they were the only two non-necromancers among Gomoviroa’s disciples. By nature, Ryucco had always been extremely wary of his surroundings, and that wariness had cultivated a talent for teleportation magic. Even now he was constantly sniffing the air and straining his ears to catch any hint of danger. He was ready to draw the miniature Blast Rifle he’d made for himself at a moment’s notice. And if a threat proved too strong to defeat, he was also ready to run.
We have to always be on guard, or we won’t survive. Smiling ruefully to himself, Ryucco started eating his vegetables wrapped in bread. The warm bread paired well with the dried vegetables. I bet if that guy was here, he’d say it’d taste better with some honey, or dipped into some leftover stew or something. His constant yapping’s a pain in the ass, but I’m kinda glad he’s like that.
Ryucco had been surprised when Veight of all people had accepted Gomoviroa’s invitation to join the demon army. Does that guy even have it in him to kill another person? Ryucco had thought. Veight was the kind of person who’d shown pity even to evil spirits. He’d doubted Veight was capable of killing living humans.
But to Ryucco’s surprise, Veight had proven a skilled general and quickly risen through the ranks. Ryucco began to worry that his kind friend had been irreparably changed by war. He’d wanted to see what had become of his beloved friend, but at the same time was terrified of what he might find. After agonizing over what to do for months, he finally came to Ryunheit when Gomoviroa sent him a summons.
Miraculously, Veight hadn’t changed at all. As always, he was worried more about others than himself, and he kept trying to take on all the burdens alone. You really are an idiot, you damned werewolf. When he’d seen Veight in Ryunheit, all the worries he’d been carrying for the past few months had melted away, and Ryucco had been able to sleep soundly for the first time in ages. And now he was here.
Like Gomoviroa had said, Ryunheit had become a city where humans and demons live together in harmony. How the hell did that werewolf get humans to accept us? Normally humans fled from werewolves and hunted lagomorphus. That was what humans were to Ryucco. But it seemed that wasn’t the case here. A transformed werewolf walked down the street, carrying a large wooden box on her shoulder.
“You just need me to take it to that corner, right?”
“Sorry for troubling you with this, vice-captain. But all of the carriages were booked.”
“Don’t worry about it, this is no trouble at all.”
An old human woman smiled at the werewolf. It’s kinda scary how nice everyone is. Shrugging, Ryucco sighed to himself. The hunter and the hunted had become friends in this city. He’d never even imagined such a thing would be possible. But I guess the demon army really managed it. Having finished his meal, Ryucco brought out his vegetable case for a small snack. Since he’d had carrot and pumpkin for lunch, he decided to make a bit of potato his snack. That guy really is different from the rest. Munching on his dried potato, Ryucco smiled to himself.
* * * *
I headed back to my office with everyone and picked up the silver coin I’d left on my desk. It was a Rolmund silver coin, which was a good deal bigger than a Meraldian one.
“Why show us this?”
I replied, “It was found left as an offering at the memorial I had built. Apparently, the canine soldier in charge of cleaning it has found one there each night.”
“So what you’re saying is there’s someone going out and leaving an offering at the memorial each day. Rolmund silver coins are quite valuable.”
There was only one person rich enough to afford leaving a silver coin as an offering each day. It had to be Eleora. The person I’d put in charge of tailing her had reported that she visited the memorial often too. I placed the silver coin inside the tiny box I was using to collect all of them and sighed.
“Since she’s leaving these offerings for the dead, I was thinking of using the money to pay for the memorial’s maintenance, and maybe hold another service for the dead next year. But even so, I can’t help but feel bad about collecting it.”
“I understand how you feel. The responsibility of using others’ money is a heavy burden to bear,” Mao replied, looking pensive. Parker butt in cheerfully, “A service for the dead? Allow me to assist. If you’d like, I can gladly summon the spirits of the dead to
reenact the battle of Ryunheit.”
“Mao.”
“Yes?”
Mao cocked his head slightly, but nevertheless handed me the cushion by his elbow. I then stuffed the cushion into Parker’s mouth.
“Karma’ll come back to bite you if you’re not careful, Parker.”
“Swash jush a jesh!”
As someone who was reincarnated, I technically had experienced death, so I punished Parker on behalf of all spirits.
“Remember what Master said? Necromancers who treat the dead as toys will meet a grisly end.”
“Like I shaid! Ish wash a joke!”
“Some things shouldn’t be joked about. I’m afraid I have to punish you in Master’s stead. It’s my job as your fellow disciple.”
Necromancers often dealt with subjects that were taboo for normal people, so they needed to be careful not to lose their humanity. People like Parker who’d long since lost their mortal bodies were especially at risk. Of course, he was well aware of that, but if he let himself slip even a little, he was prone to making jokes belittling the dead. Master had specifically ordered me to be strict with Parker. And since Parker’s earlier joke had seemed a little too insensitive, I’d decided to scold him somewhat. As annoying as he was, I would be pretty depressed if he turned into an unfeeling monster.
Anyway, the biggest issue right now was Eleora. I’d given her permission to explore the city because I’d hoped it would raise her spirits, but considering where she spent most of her time, I had the feeling it wasn’t working. Even the common folk were talking about how a foreign princess came to pray at the memorial every day. I’m starting to get worried about her. Maybe I should ask Natalia how she’s doing.
* * * *
—Eleora’s Prayer—
Since becoming a prisoner, I’ve gone to the memorial in Ryunheit’s old district every day. I was unable to build graves for my dead comrades with my own two hands. The least I can do for them is pray for their happiness in the afterlife. In Rolmund, the dead are rarely honored so lavishly. After all, thousands die every winter. Everyone, even royalty, is more focused on keeping people alive than mourning the dead. They have to be, or they’d be unable to survive in the harsh land of Rolmund. No one has time to pray for their loved ones, let alone their enemies.
But it seems that isn’t the case in Meraldia. Here I see more and more flowers at the memorial every day. Perhaps I should buy some flowers myself.
As I’m lost in thought, a burly man walks up to the memorial. He’s clad in heavy armor, and has a nearly shaved head. The single section of hair he has left has been styled to stand on end. Going from appearances alone, he appears rather barbaric. Contrary to appearances however, he gives me a proper greeting as he walks over.
“Yo, Rolmund Princess. I’m Grizz, Commander of Beluza’s landing forces.”
That would make him the commander of the unit that engaged my subordinates. I never would have imagined the group that gave us such trouble was led by a man like this. But now that I think about it, his gait resembled that of a seasoned soldier. And though he appears to be slouching now, he’s keeping his center of gravity low in case he needs to act quickly. Furthermore, he’s keeping enough distance between us that I can’t easily reach him with a surprise attack. Warily, I introduce myself.
“I’m Eleora Kastoniev Originia Rolmund, the sixth auxiliary princess of the Holy Rolmund Empire. Though here I’m just a captive.”
“You got that right.”
Grizz smiles affably, then kneels in front of the memorial. He puts a porcelain bottle of wine at the foot of the monument, makes an unfamiliar gesture of prayer, then turns to me.
“You here to pray for your dead men too?”
“That’s right. Sorry...”
There’s no need for me to apologize, but my men did kill around 20 of his. Is it really alright for me to pray for them? Grizz smiles again and says, “Don’t sweat it. Besides, it’s thanks to you that there are all these flowers here.”
It’s thanks to me? I shoot Grizz a confused look and he explains, “It’s ’cause you come here every day that the other people living here started giving offerings.”
I see, so that’s why there are so many flowers here.
“Y’see, they’ve got no idea who you’re praying for. Did you know? People are calling you the Silver Princess.”
It seems my intentions have been misunderstood by the citizenry. I’m only praying for my men and no one else.
“Anyway, after we saw all these flowers, we figured we should leave some too. Never thought I’d ever end up offering flowers to my men. If those hooligans were here, they’d probably laugh and tell me to do something more useful with flowers than leave ’em on a grave.”
I’m not sure how to reply, so I stay silent. While I know a lot about military strategy, I know very little of making conversation. Grizz watches me with a puzzled expression for a few seconds, then says, “Uh, anyway. I feel like it’s probably fate or something that we met here. I’ll pray for your subordinates, so how about you pray for mine?”
“What?”
Grizz smiles.
“These guys never even got to see a real princess in their whole lives, so I bet they’d be real happy if a princess prayed for their happiness in the afterlife.”
For a moment I wonder if he’s messing with me, but there’s no deception in the fierce-looking brute’s smile. People like him are hard to talk to. However, it’s not as if I hold a grudge against the commander of Beluza’s landing force. I’m sure my subordinates would forgive me if I prayed for them.
“Very well. Teach me what prayers I should say.”
“There isn’t anything special you need to do. Just pray however a princess would.”
“I see...”
I offered a Rolmund-style Sonnenlicht prayer for my former enemies. May their souls be enveloped in everlasting sunlight and their journey through the afterlife bright. Grizz offered another prayer for my men, then got to his feet.
“The battle’s over, so there’s no need for grudges. Right?”
“Indeed. That is what we’re taught in Rolmund as well.”
“Man, you’re one stiff princess! You can lighten up, you know!”
Grizz laughs, then turns his back to me. He takes a few steps forward, then comes to a halt.
“Hey, can you tell me just one thing? Were my men strong?”
My words catch in my throat. I never personally crossed blades with any of them. Furthermore, the deciding factor in that battle was the werewolves and the Black Werewolf King. The vast majority of my men were killed by werewolves. Beluza’s landing force had a lot of troops, and they certainly were brave, but their weapons were outdated. They were clearly much less of a threat than the werewolves. However, I understand why Grizz is asking. He wants to hear from the enemy commander that they were valiant soldiers. So, I decide to oblige him.
“They had outstanding morale and leadership. It was your men that prevented my forces from invading the city. Not once during my campaign in Northern Meraldia did I face enemies so fierce. Your troops were, without a doubt, strong.”
I chose my words carefully, but they’re no lie. In truth, if such a veteran force had been on my side, I would have had many more strategies available to me. Grizz looks over his shoulder and nods to me.
“If even a foreign princess thinks so, then they really must have been all that. Thanks.”
Unable to come up with a reply, I can only watch as the massive man walks away. Once he’s out of sight, I turn back to the stone memorial.
“Was that the right choice?”
Who am I asking that question to? Even I’m not sure. However, there is one thing I’m certain of. Though I haven’t spoken a word to any of the city’s residents, they’re emulating me. And I myself am emulating whoever first left a flower at this memorial. I remember as a child my tutors taught me to lead by example. I believe I’ve done a good job of that by personally leading my men
and taking charge of negotiations. But I’m beginning to learn that there are other ways of leading by example. My conversation with Grizz has given me yet another thing to think about. At this rate, I’ll have so many things on my mind I’ll be buried by unsolved questions. It’s time to stop thinking and start acting.
* * * *
Eleora came to me seeking an audience right before my daily morning grave visit.
“Sir Veight, I’d like to talk to you about something.”
According to the people around her, she’d been looking despondent recently, but today she seemed in good spirits. I’m kind of scared now. The moment she stepped into my office, Eleora said, “Do you know what the social hierarchy in Rolmund looks like?”
I hadn’t received any information regarding that topic from the mage corps, so I shook my head. Noting my reaction, Eleora continued, “About ten percent of Rolmund’s population is comprised of the noble class. Of that ten percent, most are low ranking nobles who hold no land.”
Wait, why are you explaining this to me? Eleora ignored my confused expression and continued her explanation, “There are several dozen noble families, most of which were formed when the republic fell and Rolmund was split into North, East, and West Rolmund. The kings of each respective section of Rolmund granted peerage to their most influential supporters in order to keep them loyal.”
Hold on, I’m not following you here. What are you trying to get at, anyway? There was no way I’d be able to memorize all of this on the spot. I needed to call in my vice-commander, the demon army’s walking memory bank.
“This seems to be important information, so let me call my vice-commander to record this.”
“Feel free. This is indeed extremely important.”
As I called for Kite, Eleora fidgeted impatiently. Why’s she in such a hurry?
Once Kite, who had been in the middle of his breakfast, arrived, I signaled for Eleora to continue. She turned to me and asked, “Did anything strike you as strange about what I just told you?”