Demon of the Grasslands
Demon of the Grasslands
Unlike what I'd expected—being treated like some unidentified lunatic who'd suddenly appeared out of nowhere—the lord of Kelbast turned out to be a man you could actually talk to.
Not that this meant the Margrave of Kelbast was some kind, empathetic, considerate, cultured intellectual. What I meant by "you could talk to him" was closer to saying he knew how to wait patiently when he was calculating gains and losses.
Right now, the only reason he had to treat me—a mere suspicious stranger spouting vague nonsense—with any decency was the axe I'd taken from Kakula, nothing more. If I were in his shoes and found some bastard claiming he'd been swept up in a monster-spawned gate and blown here from a country on the ass-end of the continent, I'd be giving him the stink-eye first thing.
He'd probably weighed the dead knight against me on the scales, deliberated hard, and reached his conclusion. I couldn't know how that conclusion would play out for him, but for me—someone who'd been dropped in a completely unfamiliar place—it was exceptionally welcome treatment, so I decided to accept it graciously.
All the effort I was putting in amounted to nothing more than explaining the situation verbally anyway, and since I was an adventurer, I didn't have to bother with aristocratic etiquette or formalities. There wasn't a single downside.
"So... you're merely an adventurer?"
To be perfectly honest, the pleasure of fucking with this old man wasn't something I could dismiss either.
"For a time, I served as a butler for a noble house, but that's the current situation. Ah, I also work as a teaching assistant at the Itisel Royal Academy."
"Hmm... I see."
His questions alone made it obvious what he was thinking. If I'd been a noble, a knight, or even just a retainer belonging to some specific house, he definitely would've tried to get Kakula's axe back through negotiations with the Itisel royal family.
I had no idea how the orcs had managed to pull it off, but this gate incident was close to a natural disaster. This world tended to treat monster incidents as natural disasters to begin with, and given that situation, even if the Itisel royal family lodged protests with the western kingdoms including the fortress city of Kelbast, getting fully compensated would be extremely difficult. The best they'd manage after all the noble double-talk went back and forth would be some consolation money and gifts as a gesture of apology. And that sum would obviously be nowhere near real reparations.
The old man knew this too, which was why he was angling to get the axe back—offering goodwill with extra money thrown in, rather than making it official.
From what I heard, the axe was just a weapon Sir Dubbert the orc slayer had received from the dwarves in recognition of his great deeds, so it didn't hold much symbolic weight outside of Kelbast. Depending on the amount he offered, there was a strong chance he could've secured the Itisel royal family's unconditional cooperation.
And if things had gone that far, no matter how much I wanted the axe, if I'd been in a position that required absolute loyalty to the state, I would've been forced to cough it up and accept other compensation. That's what the responsibility trailing behind power is like. No matter how many achievements I'd stacked up, I might've had to bend here once in exchange for receiving plenty of other rewards.
But right now, I was nothing more than an adventurer. Which meant, having no power whatsoever right now, I also bore no responsibility whatsoever.
You could call it venting my anger in a random direction, but I couldn't let it go when I thought that if the people here had diligently hunted the orcs, there would've been at least one fewer for me to deal with back home. I'd already killed plenty of orcs for them for free on the way here, so I figured I'd earned at least this much.
If I'd been commissioned, it would've been the kind of work that could've put one more gold coin in my pocket.
Since I'd already made my intentions firmly clear by cutting one of his knights in half, he must not have been able to ask directly. Throughout the carriage ride to the castle, the lord of Kelbast kept tossing out various questions in a natural flow, trying to find some angle he could exploit, but in the end, he got nothing for his trouble and showed me to a private room.
"I'll assign someone to attend to you shortly. You must be weary from the journey, so rest comfortably today, and we'll speak in detail tomorrow."
From our first meeting, he'd been a remarkably unpretentious fellow for the master of Kelbast. I'd heard this place was practically a kingdom in its own right, one that wouldn't be outdone even compared to most major cities, but I'd never imagined a person who got his own hands this dirty would be in charge.
"And the people around him follow him exceptionally well, too..."
In a world where there's no shortage of lunatics who'd openly disrespect a master who treats them candidly, claiming he lacked the authority and dignity a noble ought to possess, this guy had to be ranked in at least the top 5% of super-nobles.
"Well, not something I need to worry about, since I might very well leave tomorrow."
I'd only just finally returned to the realm of civilization. There was still a long road ahead.
While the maid the Margrave of Kelbast had assigned helped wash my clothes, I inspected my equipment and checked over everything I had. Fortunately, based on my experience in the empire last time, I'd always carried a first-aid pouch, so crossing the grasslands hadn't been terribly uncomfortable, but my coin purse wasn't a fourth-dimensional pouch, so I didn't have enough travel funds to get back home.
"Should I sell the potion Shadow Foot gave me?"
Selling just one would definitely be enough, assuming I was frugal... but right now, it wasn't an item I could easily get my hands on, and it was a gift, so I really didn't want to.
"I'll reconsider that when things are truly desperate..."
The cash on hand was two gold coins, a dozen or so silver coins, and a few coppers. For someone with all their equipment fully kitted out, that was a very comfortable financial situation, but for a long-distance traveler who had to buy winter gear from scratch and pay for a horse, it was extremely tight. In the middle of winter, no less.
Just one sturdy horse for the long journey would cost a gold coin. The cloak and sleeping bag I'd looted while rummaging through orc settlements were barely functional for appearances' sake, so I'd have to sell them second-hand if possible and buy new ones, which meant more money going out.
If I'd known this would happen, I'd have hunted around for things worth money and picked some up. The regret surfaced, but it wasn't true regret so much as pointless grumbling—I hadn't left things behind by choice; circumstances hadn't allowed me to take them.
On a journey toward a city of unknown arrival time, fleeing from orcs chasing me in from all directions, valuables were ultimately just dead weight. If there'd been jewels or something, I would've collected them diligently, but unfortunately, the bastards I'd taken out hadn't shown much interest in such things.
"A dire financial situation."
After buying the absolute minimum of necessary items but not skimping on the things I needed to invest in for quality—like a horse and a map—I estimated I'd be left with at most twenty silver coins to my name.
Even if I used gates to cross via the shortest route, the gate usage fees alone would be tight. This was all calculated based on Itisel wartime prices, so if prices were lower here, things might get a tiny bit better, but I wasn't too hopeful.
It'd be wonderful if the margrave, thinking highly of all the orcs I'd killed on the way here, slipped me some money. But for someone who'd killed one of his knights and was stubbornly refusing to even give up the axe, expecting that was beyond a luxury—it was a happiness circuit blazing out of control.
"...Should've fucking kept that bastard alive and at least collected a ransom."
I vowed to actually squeeze out a ransom if another similar bastard showed up, and sprawled out on a high-end bed I was tasting for the first time in a long while.
It was the first proper taste of civilization in almost a week, so sweet it put me in a slightly better mood.
◈
With Eldmia gone, aberrations appearing in the orcs' movements, and disruptions in their command structure, the subjugation campaign that had begun in earnest only drew to a close after more than a week.
There was no sign of the Kakula that Asilie remembered. There was no way that prideful orc would have chosen to flee just because things were unfavorable, so he'd clearly run into some incident with Eldmia and doubled back through the gate.
Perhaps that was why Eldmia's figure wasn't discovered either. Not only was there no corpse, not even a piece of his gear was found, so most people kept dressing the story up day after day: he had made a noble sacrifice, destroyed the passage on the other side of the gate, and thereby enabled the subjugation to conclude successfully. But Asilie simply sighed, paying no mind to that atmosphere.
'It's not like a gate can only be destroyed from one side... Humans really do have a strong tendency to get swept up in legends and hero tales.'
He was definitely alive. She'd already confirmed that through conversation with Laika.
Laika couldn't speak, but could understand. As a Demon Sword firmly bound to its master, Laika nodded vigorously when asked whether Eldmia was alive. Perhaps because its master was no longer there to supply it with Magic Power, Laika began spending most of its days asleep soon afterward, but still.
"Honestly, isn't Eldi the type to think 'if I see a gate, first I go inside it'...?"
It was an opinion the man himself would've protested as unjust if he'd heard it, but Yekaterina and Ragnis, standing beside her, chimed in with interjections that it was entirely plausible.
From the moment they'd learned he wasn't dead, these two hadn't harbored a single worry about Eldmia's life or death. Normally, you'd think they'd worry while keeping the one-in-a-million worst case in mind...
At this point, Eldmia had committed so many eccentric exploits and demonstrated such overwhelmingly solid skill that they couldn't muster even a little concern. No, instead, they were just pissed at his recklessness. While the three women were once again united in tearing into Eldmia's recklessness, Radnelbandes, who'd been examining the gate alongside the mages dispatched from the royal family, approached and spoke quietly to Ragnis.
"It looks like reactivation will be difficult. There are signs the gate was forced open through shamanic arts, and the properties have changed significantly because of it. Even if the mages prepare properly and open it, it'll take several months."
The fact that this conclusion had been reached even after Seneran, suddenly deprived of a research subject, had thrown a fit and clung to the project, meant that no matter who else came to look, their assessment wasn't likely to be overturned. The rather poor news deepened the wrinkles between Asilie's brows.
Since Kakula had been there, it was definite that the gate led to the western kingdom region, so that part wasn't a worry. The problem was the long and treacherous road from there back to Itisel. And on top of that, it was winter.
'Should I seek Esmue's help?'
She'd have to send a letter and tell her about it anyway, since it was something she needed to know, and they'd mutually agreed on a method of contact for that purpose when they'd visited the empire. If she asked for help, Esmue would shower them with indirect support, but since Eldmia's life wasn't exactly in danger, asking for help didn't sit quite right.
"......"
Thinking about it calmly, it really didn't sit right.
No matter how well they maintained a good relationship, they were two women eyeing the same man from opposite sides. Depending one-sidedly on her abilities hurt her pride. If she herself had no means or methods, she would've asked without hesitation, but this time, that wasn't the case.
"...Haah, I never thought I'd be making contact this way."
Leaving behind the people conducting additional searches of the cave where the gate had been, Asilie emerged outside alone, dodging the crowds clearing away the orc corpses and heading into the forest. Leaning her forehead against a random tree, she called upon a spirit.
"Child of the forest, I hope you'll grant a friend's request. Asilie Enderinia of the Blue Vine asks this of you."
Forest spirits were so finicky, demanding clear transactional prices for their services, that this was a method she'd tried to avoid as much as possible—once you made this kind of request, their demands multiplied. But now wasn't the time to be picky about that.
"Please tell the family of the Blue Vine: find my companion by the earring he wears, stranded alone in the Great Grassland, and please guide him back to Asilie."
She could already foresee the nagging that would rain down on her for making such a sudden request after decades of no contact, ever since she'd been taken by the slave hunters, and a sigh escaped her already, but again, that wasn't what mattered now.
Right now, it was time for a wife to steel herself and press on.