Demon of the Grasslands
Demon of the Grasslands
I couldn't shake the feeling that I'd fucked things up right from the start because of one uncivilized helmet-rack bastard, but I didn't feel any regret since I had no mercy to spare for a thief anyway.
I was already on edge from having to split orc skulls day after day, right up until I caught and forcibly rode a demonic beast that had failed to flee two days ago, and then some guy suddenly showed up and said what? 'Lawful ownership'?
I'd traveled for nearly a week and sent literally hundreds of orcs aboard the express train to Valhalla—their heavenly great grassland—and I'd known this unbroken axe was no ordinary item ever since I'd fought Kakula. So what the knight said about it being a hero's weapon or whatever also made perfect sense.
Sure, it could've been a very important symbol, and even if it wasn't, it was a weapon of such quality that they might've wanted it back just for its performance.
But even so, there were limits. Standing in front of someone who was in the mood to split open the skulls of every last one of them just because the shit they'd failed to clean up had streamed through a gate all the way to his homeland—and then trying to snatch up a weapon they'd left untouched until now because they were scared of dying, thinking some opportunity had arrived? That crossed a line.
If they really wanted this axe returned, they should've sent a letter directly to the royal palace of Itisel, resolved all responsibility issues and compensation for this orc gate crisis, and then offered an obscene sum of money while doing a handstand and performing tricks.
But some crazy bastard had been babbling about legality and then tried to draw his sword, so what could I do? I had to split him.
Fortunately, unlike the helmet-rack, the gatekeepers were very reasonable. Since I was a civilized man unlike that barbaric helmet-rack, rather than taking out my anger on unrelated parties like some ill-bred lout, I attempted some communication. I stood with the oddly composed gatekeeper, offered him a bit of information fee, and whiled away some time asking about the mood and recent affairs in Kelbast.
About twenty-odd minutes passed like that when someone who very much looked like a highly important person appeared, accompanied by three escorts.
"Well, fuck me sideways. I hadn't heard about this situation."
Judging by his attire and the reactions around him, he was certainly someone important, but his tone was more amiable than I'd expected.
Despite the words that had slipped out of his mouth, he didn't seem particularly flustered. Of course, no matter how unflustered he was, I could see that his escorts were knights, and they stepped forward to block his path and drew their weapons. But that was an extremely normal response, so I just leaned on my inverted axe and looked at them as I asked.
"Do you know anything about the law?"
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Watching the man striding out confidently despite clearly seeing him arrive at the gate, the Margrave of Kelbast thought to himself.
This fellow, wherever he'd popped out from, was no ordinary man. The fact that he'd split a knight, armor and all, and stood there so brazenly afterward—that was certainly extraordinary on another level. But the Margrave's instinct told him that wasn't all there was to his opponent.
While he racked his brain to assess the other party, something he hadn't done in a very long time, his escorting knights stepped forward to block the space between him and the man, shouting.
"Insolent! Do you even know who this is?!"
They were his own escort knights, but that was truly remarkable courage. To still act that way even after seeing the corpse right in front of them.
The Margrave of Kelbast had lived a life infinitely removed from direct combat, but he wasn't so ignorant that he couldn't understand what it meant to see a corpse cleaved apart along with the arm that had reached for its sword. And the man who'd died, clearly unable to offer proper resistance before being felled in one blow, had been one of the more skilled rank-and-file knights in Kelbast.
His skill hadn't lagged that far behind the three knights escorting him now. He'd been unable to keep the man close because his tendency to force his opinions on others was somewhat too strong, but he'd been capable military personnel, so the Margrave remembered him.
And so the Margrave of Kelbast was deeply impressed by the knights who, even after witnessing his death, sought to do their duty.
"Obviously I don’t know who he is. If I knew that, I’d be from here, not Itisel, wouldn’t I?"
The man's attitude was truly brazen as he frowned at the knight's response and spat the words out through clenched teeth.
So much so that even though he'd made no other particular movements, the two knights blocking the Margrave's path flinched slightly and edged back just a hair.
'They're scared. And with good reason.'
Since this was proof that they understood their own abilities very well, the Margrave chose not to lower his estimation of them or think them pathetic, but instead to step forward himself and give them a way to save face.
"Enough. According to the gatekeeper's report, that man's ignorance is not a crime. Stand down."
"But, however..."
"It is fine. If his goal had been to cause a disturbance, he would have tried to kill me immediately, or attempted any number of other methods. Am I wrong, stranger?"
At the Margrave of Kelbast's question, the man answered by simply tilting his head slightly to the side. It was a gesture that seemed utterly arrogant, but since the Margrave of Kelbast had stepped in to restrain them, the knights said nothing more.
"But that aside, as the lord of this fortress city, I have a need to properly understand this situation. That knight, you were the one who killed him, correct?"
"Yes. That's correct."
The answer came naturally, unflustered even upon hearing he was speaking to the lord. The Margrave of Kelbast quietly observed the man for a moment, then added.
"That man was a rank-and-file knight named Bilen. He was one of the key figures who took the lead in protecting the Kelbast barrier and ensuring the safety of its people."
You've killed a major military asset of the city—are you prepared to bear the consequences?
He wasn't actually that important a figure, but it was a statement the Margrave had slightly exaggerated to test whether the man understood the intent behind his words. The answer that came back was different from what the Margrave of Kelbast had expected.
"Ignorance cannot serve as a shield to justify acts of plunder by law."
The man simply tapped the axe he was leaning on a couple of times to conclude his explanation. At this attitude, the Margrave of Kelbast quietly groaned. An adventurer who carried on a conversation in a loose manner that just barely brushed against the nobles' way of speaking—he was curious about the man's identity, but for now, his answer was more serious.
The Margrave of Kelbast had eyes too, so he knew the axe supporting the man's body was the same double-bladed axe of Sir Dubbert that he'd known. And so he could tell from the answer he'd just heard that the rank-and-file knight Bilen had died after a disagreement arose while claiming ownership.
Seeing as he'd used the aggressive expression 'plunder,' the knight had probably demanded the return of it on the grounds that it was a relic of Sir Dubbert...
If that was the truth, then rather than an unjust death, it was closer to a situation where he'd made the worst possible choice, made things difficult even for those left behind, and then died. The Margrave of Kelbast, who'd suddenly found himself in an awkward position, could only make a regretful sound.
"With your level of skill, it seems there might have been room to negotiate a ransom."
"Perhaps if this had been Itisel. But one of those who'd threatened my homeland by neglecting their duty to watch the grasslands compounded it with rudeness, so I had no such leeway."
Good heavens, the day had come when he would be interrogated with the absurd story that the orcs of the grasslands had flown all the way to Itisel and caused damage. And by an adventurer, no less. Even his late father would've shot upright saying what nonsense was this.
But right now, there was no way to know what was truth and what was false, from where to where. So the Margrave of Kelbast racked his brain to grasp the situation using only the information he'd been given.
The fact that one knight had abruptly died was certainly a significant blow. However, the story changed somewhat because it was someone who'd crossed the grasslands bearing Kakula's axe.
The fact that Kakula's axe was here meant, in the end, that Kakula was either dead or had suffered a critical blow to the extent that he couldn't protect the axe.
It was hard to believe even after seeing it with his own eyes, but it was a more credible story than the possibility that a man who could kill a knight in a single strike was the thief of the century who could silently steal a chieftain's weapon from within an orc village.
And there was no way that man had fought a fair and square one-on-one duel with Kakula, so it went without saying that in the process, secondary damage would have been inflicted not only on Kakula but on his legion as well—an achievement no lone rank-and-file knight could ever accomplish.
Even if the man in front of him had unjustly killed Bilen, it was an achievement so great that letting it slide here would be the profitable choice.
But as it turned out, even the circumstances weren't unjust, so the Margrave of Kelbast had no reason to honor any loyalty to him in this situation. It was at the level of generously sending a consolation payment to the family later.
Having organized his thoughts that far, the Margrave of Kelbast could faintly guess at the man's identity.
'Demon of the Grasslands.'
He'd dismissed it as absurd rumor, but when he considered it that way, the man's claims began to seem trustworthy.
Right after a mysterious ghost story had sprung up in the grasslands that had been consistent for ages, and the orcs had begun acting strangely, an adventurer appeared bearing the axe that Kakula had stolen, claiming he'd been swept up in a gate incident and come from the far-distant southeastern edge of Itisel. It was harder to keep doubting him.
At the same time, it was also the prelude to a catastrophe that could be called the worst in history. He'd need to hear the full story to know for sure, but judging by the man's reaction just now, it went without saying that orcs had flooded into Itisel in great numbers. If things went even slightly wrong, they could face a witch hunt claiming the Western Kingdoms had intentionally schemed to harm Itisel, so he needed to quickly ascertain the truth and take action.
Once his calculations were complete, he acted fast.
"As the lord of Kelbast, I would like to offer a formal apology. I'm not sure if you heard it from him, but that axe is an item deeply connected to our city. It seems an unfortunate incident occurred because some knights treat it at the level of a sacred relic."
"His rudeness was repaid with his life, so don't trouble yourself. Rather, I'd like to know if I can enter the city."
Even though the lord of a city—the lord of Kelbast, a city that even kings in the West couldn't treat carelessly—had personally apologized, the man's response was indifferent. Even if he was from that distant Itisel, he should know what kind of place Kelbast was... By now, it was getting to the point of inspiring curiosity about what kind of life one had to live to be this brazen.
"Of course. In fact, I'd like to invite you to the fortress as a guest. Both to offer my heartfelt condolences for the misfortune you've suffered, and to apologize for the discourtesy we unintentionally committed. Most of all, I'd like to hear the testimony and receive the help of the person involved so that we can seek an amicable solution to the gate crisis you spoke of."
But because of the problem he was facing, the Margrave of Kelbast's curiosity had to be postponed for later.