Empire of Ice

by Hyougetsu

  “Th-That’s not what I’m worried about! What if he cuts your head off, Mister Veight!?”

  It would be pretty hard to actually decapitate someone with a dueling rapier. I turned to Eleora and gave her my frank opinion.

  “If nobles like that can just do whatever they want, then this country has no future.”

  “I would love nothing more than to slaughter the Count of Slaughter. But considering my position, I can’t easily do that.”

  “Which is why I’m offering to do it for you. Besides, I’ve been needing a good warmup.”

  I said that as a joke, but for some reason that only caused Eleora to look even more troubled. Please just smile.

  * * * *

  —The Count of Slaughter’s Banquet—

  “Hahahahaha!”

  Though Viscount Schmenivsky was laughing, the young nobles around him looked incensed.

  “This is an outrage! An absolute farce!”

  “How dare that country bumpkin make light of us proud nobles!”

  All the nobles gathered around the viscount were supporters of Doneiks. Their position would become quite tenuous if Prince Ashley took the throne, and as they possessed no land, they had little influence in court. At best they were useful in minor political maneuvering, but they were easily replaceable. Thus, they were extremely motivated to bring the Doneiks faction up to par with the crown prince’s faction. One of the nobles turned to Schmenivsky, who seemed to be in a good mood still, and yelled, “Lord Viscount, please teach that upstart Veight fellow a lesson!”

  Schmenivsky perused his collection of prized swords and said with a smile, “There’s no need to be so gentle. I’ll just kill him.”

  “Ooooh...”

  The young nobles looked momentarily taken aback, then started showering the viscount with praise.

  “You really are North Rolmund’s hero!”

  “The strongest noble who slaughtered thousands of serfs in the seven rebellions you put down!”

  “‘Those who oppose my rule shall feed the soil with their blood and become the crops they grow.’ It seems that quote of mine is still causing quite a stir within the royal palace.”

  Schmenivsky had managed his territory so poorly that his serfs had risen up in rebellion seven times now. Every time they’d rebelled, he’d punished them so harshly that they’d been driven to rebellion again. But as Schmenivsky believed that it was the serfs who were in the wrong, he felt no remorse about his harsh reprisals.

  “Thoroughly rooting out any voices of discontent is the sacred duty of Rolmund nobility. That soft Meraldian barbarian has no chance against the viscount’s steel.”

  “Now, now. No need to flatter me... Though I have no intention of losing to some Meraldian upstart.”

  Schmenivsky drew one of his sabers and cut cleanly through a candlestick. The cut was so clean that the stick remained standing even after his blade had passed.

  “Wow, that was splendid...”

  “Even though he slashed from a sitting position, he was able to cut with such precision.”

  Schmenivsky slowly got to his feet while his onlookers gazed at him in awe.

  “Now then, the hour is upon us. Let’s put this trifling matter to rest.”

  Schmenivsky snatched his cape from the outstretched hands of one of his followers and grinned.

  “Prepare a celebratory banquet for me, gentlemen.”

  * * * *

  The next evening, I headed to the imperial parade grounds. At my side was Kite. His job was to inspect the weapons and equipment my opponent would be bringing into the duel. A few interested werewolves had also come to watch the duel. Specifically, Fahn and her handpicked subordinates.

  “Veight, if you need help, just holler. We’ll come running.”

  “You can count on us, boss.”

  “Veight, we can kill that bastard before the duel even starts if you want!”

  Please honor the rules of dueling, guys. Viscount Whatever-sky had also brought his second and supporters with him. On top of that, he’d also brought around 20 guards. He was probably hoping to overwhelm me with numbers if things turned south, but Fahn could take out a squad of 20 by herself.

  The man officiating the duel belonged to a neutral faction, the crown prince’s. It was his job to record the duel and report what happened to the emperor.

  Viscount Whatever-sky’s second brought out a massive suitcase.

  “These are the weapons which will be used in today’s duel. Please inspect them.”

  Since I was the one who’d issued the challenge, Viscount Whatever-sky possessed the right to decide the location of the duel, as well as what weapons would be used. Inside the suitcase was a pile of swords. Thank God it’s not a crossbow duel or something. My aim is horrible. I turned back to Kite.

  “I’ll leave checking them to you.”

  “Sure.”

  Kite picked up each sword one by one and examined it closely. He was making sure nothing strange had been done to the weapons. Though few others could tell, I sensed the faint trace of mana that denoted he was using epoch magic. He was being quite thorough.

  Once he’d finished his inspection, Kite bowed to the viscount’s second and returned to his designated spot. I then stepped up to the suitcase myself. Through the magic broach at my neck, I could hear Kite giving me advice.

  “The saber with the red agate in its pommel has been enchanted with agony magic. The rest are all normal.”

  Enchanted with agony magic, huh? Even a slight brush against something enchanted with agony magic was enough to cause someone to suffer severe pain for a few seconds. I’d tinkered around with agony magic when I’d been training with Master, and the pain was comparable to a dentist drilling into your tooth without any anesthesia. However, the way the pain was imparted onto people changed based on the person, so agony magic wasn’t the most reliable in battle. Often, it wouldn’t activate at all. Werewolves were quite resilient to pain, so it was possible the saber wouldn’t affect me at all. I hoped, anyway.

  Regardless, I had first pick when it came to weapons. Should I take the saber, or not?I wasn’t the most skilled with a sword, so a tricky weapon like a saber might be too much for me. Especially since the blade was quite thin. Viscount Whatever-sky had gone through all the trouble of setting up this little trick, so I might as well let him have his sword. I flashed the viscount a knowing smile and said, “I care not which weapon I use. You may choose first.”

  The Count of Slaughter smiled confidently, certain of his victory.

  “Such a magnanimous man. As you wish, then.”

  As I’d predicted, Viscount Whatever-sky went straight for the saber with the red agate. I actually rather liked villains who were this simple-minded. Once he was done, I picked the shortest sword available. It was more of a parrying dagger than a sword. The blade was short and stout, and its center of gravity was close to the hilt. Most importantly, though, it had a very good crossguard. It was, however, wholly unsuited to offense. Thrusts were about the only effective attack it was capable of, but its blade was a good twenty centimeters shorter than the viscount’s saber. The Count of Slaughter’s smile grew wider.

  “Oh my. Do you perhaps lack confidence in your sword arm? I never imagined you would pick such a beginner weapon.”

  What happened to all that fake courtesy? It was honestly refreshing fighting such an evil guy. I was really starting to get attached to him. A shame I’ll have to kill him in one hit.I smiled back at the viscount and walked to my designated starting point.

  “This is all I need for the likes of you.”

  “You arrogant brat...”

  Guess the fake courtesy’s gone for good. His face was beet red, and his lips were trembling in rage. Come on man, if you’re going to act like a cocky villain, you’ve gotta keep the act going until the end. Looks like I’ll have to show you what a real villain’s like.

  The time to strike down Viscount Whatever-sky was almost here, but I was still
a little worried about the enchantment on his saber. Maybe I should use pain neutralizing magic, just in case? Pretending to give a Sonnenlicht prayer, I surreptitiously cast magic on myself. Upon seeing what I was doing, the Count of Slaughter sneered.

  “Isn’t it a bit late to be praying? Fear not, I shall send you to your beloved god soon enough. You can pray to him in person.”

  This is just getting clichéd now. I couldn’t help but give him a pitiful smile. The nobles overseeing the duel watched us complete our final preparations, then said, “Following the traditional laws of Rolmund, the duel between Honorary Count Veight Gerun Friedensrichter and Viscount Schmenivsky will now begin.”

  “Both sides, fight fairly so as to not dishonor your family name.”

  As per tradition, the Count of Slaughter and I bowed to each other, then took our stances.

  His stance was solid and spoke of years spent on the battlefield. It seemed he really did love shedding blood. With the way he’d put his center of gravity, he could move in any direction at any time. I also fell into the stance Airia had taught me. It was a very basic stance, meant for defense. The viscount obviously believed he had a full measure of my strength, as he closed the gap between us without bothering to feel me out.

  “Hiyaah!”

  His thrust was sharp. For a human, that was. I was easily able to follow his movements with my enhanced kinetic vision. It seemed like he was aiming for my heart, but he was actually planning to raise the tip of his saber at the last moment and go for my throat or face. It wasn’t a standard dueling maneuver.

  As a human, I probably wouldn’t have been able to handle swordsmanship like this, but right now it looked like he was moving in slow motion. Alright, this’ll be a cinch. Focusing, I stepped diagonally forward with my left foot. With this, I had avoided the saber’s trajectory. The viscount wouldn’t hit me. Meanwhile, I used magic on my right foot to make it momentarily heavier, so that it served as an anchor holding me to the ground. Finally, I activated strengthening magic on myself, and—power filled my right leg, waist, back, and shoulders.

  In front of me, the Count of Slaughter was still grinning like an overconfident idiot. I couldn’t tell if I’d moved too fast for him to notice, or if he had his head so far up his ass that he wasn’t even looking at me. Either way, I wasn’t going to hold back.

  I adjusted my grip on my parrying dagger and let loose a wild swing. The dagger’s blade caught the saber and pushed it back while its crossguard slammed into the viscount’s face. The back of the viscount’s saber crushed his nose as it was pushed back and dug deep into his face. The force of the impact caused the blade to snap. Naturally, the agony magic contained within the blade activated. A fraction of a second later— “BWAAAAAARGH!”

  That’s an interesting scream. I watched as Viscount Whatever-sky flew through the sky in slow-motion. He did a single somersault as he tumbled backward. After flying a good three meters, he crashed into the ground face-first. A second later, his saber’s broken blade landed on the dirt next to him.

  “UGRUAAAAAAAAH!”

  He was still screaming in agony, but not because I’d decked him. It was his own saber that was causing him all this pain. That’s what you get for using a sword like that, dumbass. Viscount Whatever-sky thrashed around for a bit, started foaming at the mouth, then arched his back and fell unconscious. I’d been hoping to hit him with a few cool one-liners after beating him to a pulp, but I couldn’t do that if he was out cold.

  After a few seconds of standing around awkwardly, I turned back to the overseers. They were completely stunned. For a solid minute, all they could do was glance back and forth between me and Viscount Whatever-sky. To me, the fight felt like it had lasted almost a minute, but to the onlookers it, had flashed past in an instant. Wait, maybe according to Rolmund’s dueling rules, I haven’t actually won yet.

  “Do I need to kill him?”

  Upon hearing that, the overseers quickly returned to their senses.

  “The winner is Lord Veight Gerun Friedensrichter!”

  “Lord Schmenivsky, get ahold of yourself!”

  “Th-That looks awful...”

  “His front teeth have been knocked out!”

  “Someone call a doctor— no, a healer! Hurry!”

  It might have been kinder just to kill him, huh? I watched Viscount Whatever-sky get carried out by a stretcher, then looked down at the dagger in my hand. The impact of my swing had caused the crossguard to warp.

  “Holding back really is hard.”

  I tossed the dagger to the viscount’s second, then went home to get dinner. I had to say, the scarlet sunset looked a lot more vibrant than the viscount’s blood.

  “Thank you for defending my honor, Lord Veight.”

  “We’re sworn allies. I only did was what natural. Besides, that wasn’t the reason I fought him anyway.”

  Really, they’d just pissed me off. They were like jocks who bullied weak kids back in high school. I was sitting in Eleora’s private manor, eating Rolmund’s famous meat stew. It was pretty similar to beef stroganoff.

  “So why did you leave the viscount alive?”

  Animal husbandry hadn’t advanced very far in this world, so meat was quite expensive. Which was exactly why I needed to eat as much as I could while the princess was paying. I savored the meat for a few more seconds before turning my attention to what Eleora had just said. Oh yeah, I did leave Viscount Whatever-sky alive, didn’t I? Eleora waited until a servant finished pouring her a glass of wine, then added, “Rolmundians are a spiteful people. Our nobles especially. We even have a saying that goes ‘The grudges of last winter shall haunt the next.’ He’ll be back for revenge.”

  I was more or less expecting that. But that didn’t bother me in the slightest. I grinned wolfishly.

  “Don’t worry. There’s a reason I left that bastard alive.”

  “There is?”

  Confused, Eleora exchanged glances with Borsche, who was sitting next to her.

  “Only necromancers have any use for the dead, but...”

  “You called?”

  The moment Parker butt in, I signaled to Kite. He grabbed Parker by the collar and started dragging him to a different room.

  “Sorry, Parker, but we’re busy right now.”

  “Wait! I simply must test out the new spell I’ve been developing with Master! With it, I’ll be able to plunge the entire capital into chaos.”

  I don’t like the sound of that. I turned back to Eleora and said, “Alive, he’ll be useful to us. No matter how incompetent a person, no matter whether they’re friend or foe, everyone can be used.”

  “You’re scheming something again, aren’t you?”

  “Nothing major. Now then, I need to step out for a bit.”

  I finished off the last of the meat, wiped my face with a napkin, and got to my feet.

  “You just finished a duel and you’re going back out already!? Do you realize what time it is!?”

  I gave Eleora a reassuring smile.

  “Werewolves hardly even break a sweat in fights against humans. The real work begins now. You can just rest here; I’ll take care of everything. Oh, but... Ah, I got it. Can I have one of those potted plants?”

  “You mean these? I don’t mind, but...”

  I changed into the long, flowing clothes of a Meraldian southerner and said, “I’m going to pay our good viscount a visit. Lacy, come with me.”

  That evening, I visited Viscount Whatever-sky’s mansion. The official reason for my visit was that I was going to pay my respects to my dueling opponent. The polite and respectful Honorary Count Veight would never be so rude as to forget about his opponent. And I had a persona to keep up.

  Upon my arrival, I found the viscount groaning in bed, wrapped in bandages. While the healers had managed to staunch his wounds, his jawbone was still warped, and he was missing several teeth. The way his jawbone was warped was putting pressure on his nerves, so he’d be in pain for a while. It seemed the he
aler who’d overseen treating the viscount had not been very skilled. In fact, even I could have done a better job with wounds this simple.

  From the looks of it, all of Rolmund’s best mages focused solely on the research and invention of new magical tools. With the way the viscount’s jaw had been set, it would never fully recover unless someone punched him that hard again. As I was trying to remember what the viscount’s name actually was, I turned to Lacy—who was pretending to be my servant—and said, “Bring out the gift.”

  “Ah, okay.”

  Lacy took out the potted plant I’d brought as a get-well present and handed it to one of the Count of Slaughter’s servants. It was the same potted plant I’d taken from Eleora’s room.

  “I’ve brought you a potted icebloom. The pot is made from Mashrov porcelain. I hope it suits your tastes.”

  Both the plant and the pot were extremely valuable, but it would be rude to mention that. I smiled as gently as I could at the viscount’s servant and added, “I wish to congratulate my worthy opponent on surviving our duel. A potted plant symbolizes longevity, so I thought it would be a better gift than flowers.”

  “Oh... Thank you for your generosity.”

  There was no cultural taboo in this world about giving people potted plants as gifts, so this was a perfectly normal exchange. Of course, in Japan, sending a potted plant would be implying I wanted him to sleep forever, which I did. In the language of flowers here, though, a potted icebloom meant “may you be at peace.” Once the exchange was over, Lacy and the viscount’s servant backed out of the room, and I turned to the viscount. He glared at me through his bandages. Though the look in his eyes was venomous, his lips curled up into a smile.

  “Y-Your kindness humbles me, Lord Veight... Though I regret we had to duel, my position left me no choice.”

  His lack of front teeth made his words come out funny, but I was able to understand him well enough. From his scent, I could tell that half of what he’d said was true.