The Unending Winter
All of a sudden I found myself sitting on a fortune of three hundred thousand gold. I had obtained it by posing as a representative of the Magic Tower, so if the truth ever came out, things would not end well for me.
Swallowing that much gold outright carried far too much risk. There was no telling what a man like Kopman—still clinging to his lost money—might try behind my back.
And it was not only me I had to worry about. The people who received the gold might suffer for it as well. A nobleman would never stoop so low… or so one might hope. I knew better. People could become uglier than anyone imagined, and that knowledge left me uneasy.
I kept turning the problem over in my mind the entire way back, Nightmare pulling the cart until we finally reached the gates of the capital.
“Working hard even this late at night!”
A guard’s cheerful voice snapped me out of my thoughts. I had brought so many captured bandits to the guardhouse that most of the men on duty recognized me on sight. His eyes drifted to the cart Nightmare was hauling, and he tilted his head.
“What’s with the cart?”
“Ah… this.”
The guard strode straight toward the cart without a second thought. Only then did I remember the rule I had completely forgotten: any cargo above a certain size had to pass inspection before it could enter the capital.
A modest bribe would have waved us through without the hassle. I chose not to offer one.
The tangled knot in my head suddenly loosened. I had just thought of the perfect way to dispose of the money cleanly.
After parting ways with Ceris, Andere Del Kopman returned to the luxurious inn where he was staying and let out a long, heavy sigh. He had come all this way on rumors of a purebred Hairan horse, only to fail in his purpose completely.
Worse, every last coin he had brought with him had been stripped away. The despair and sense of loss crushing him defied description.
He had been so certain the deal would go through. Equal terms, a clean transaction, then a pleasant ride home to his own lands.
All of it had been nothing more than a sweet dream. The towering shadow of the Magic Tower had suddenly loomed over him, and he had been forced to choose survival over pride.
“Why in the world!!! Why was a mage running around as a swordsman!!!”
Kopman roared, venting the fury boiling inside him, and slammed his fist down on the massive table. The wood split cleanly in two beneath his enormous hand.
Even that failed to cool his rage. He seized a bottle of wine from the room and drank, trying endlessly to drown the fire in his gut.
Empty bottles piled up around his feet as the sun rose and set again and again. In the fog of drunken delusion he always found himself on his knees before the small girl.
Alcohol, greed, and lingering attachment twisted together. He could never climb the wall of the Magic Tower, so his gaze naturally turned elsewhere.
Wiping the drool from his lips, he stared out the window. Through bleary eyes he watched bright moonlight flood the room.
Forcing the liquor from his system as best he could, Kopman staggered out of the room. His vision remained hazy.
“L-Lord Kopman…?”
“Hah…”
He looked down at the subordinates staring up at him and clutched his throbbing head.
“F-find out where my money went.”
“Pardon…?”
“My money! Bring it back!”
The soldiers exchanged uneasy glances at their lord’s rambling. They were bound to obey their master and liege without question—yet the person who had taken the gold was the problem.
“B-but… the mage…”
Thud!
One soldier carefully opened his mouth, only for Kopman’s fist to cut the words short. Then he bellowed,
“Shut up! Never… never speak of what happened that day!”
His face had gone deathly pale. Before they parted, the girl named Ceris had made it clear: she did not want her true identity revealed. She was deliberately posing as a swordsman in this region while hiding the fact that she was a mage.
If her secret ever came to light, the backlash would fall on the man who knew it—him.
Kopman feared Ceris, and the Magic Tower that stood behind her. Even so, the desperate need to reclaim his gold drove him to a single idea.
“Recover the gold that Ceris—that mage… no, that fairy swordsman—used…”
“But…”
“Do you want your families back home to starve? If you fail to find that money…”
He left the rest unsaid. The soldiers nodded, faces ashen.
“Go! Find it at once! Deploy every man!”
After sending them off, Kopman returned to his room, sank into a chair, and began tipping another bottle. One by one the empties multiplied, and his vision blurred once more.
By the time the sun began its slow descent, his soldiers returned.
He brightened at the sight of them and lurched to his feet.
“Well? Did you find it?”
“Y-yes… we found it, but…”
“How much! How much did you recover!”
“All three hundred thousand gold…”
“Really? It didn’t end up in the hands of other nobles, did it?”
“No, my lord. It all went to commoners…”
Kopman exhaled in relief. If the money had flowed to commoners, the matter would be simple. There would be some grumbling, but with his name and status he could reclaim it easily enough.
Of course he would never recover the full sum. He would have to grease plenty of palms higher up.
Still, better than nothing. He staggered toward the soldiers.
“What are you standing around for! Move! Bring me my money! Use my name and take it all back!”
Yet the soldiers did not budge. They only traded awkward glances. At last Kopman lost patience, seized the nearest man by the collar, and hauled him up.
“What are you waiting for!”
“W-well… you may need to see it for yourself, my lord…”
“Myself? Me?”
“Yes…”
“Hah. Fine.”
So Kopman had no choice but to drag his thoroughly drunken body after his men. He threw on fresh clothes over the mess he was wearing and buckled on the full plate that had been lying on the floor.
The place they led him to was the temple of Elune, goddess of the moon. He froze. This was the last destination he had expected.
“Here…?”
That was only the beginning of the strangeness. Worshippers of Elune who had been moving about the grounds caught sight of him, broke into radiant smiles, and bowed their heads in prayer.
“Th-this…”
Then a priest in pure white vestments came rushing out from inside the temple, wearing the same bright smile as the rest.
“Lord Kopman! Welcome!”
“Huh…?”
Kopman glanced at his subordinates. He had lived his entire life as an atheist and had never once donated a single coin to any temple. There was no reason for the faithful of Elune to greet him so warmly.
And yet here they were. Swaying on his feet, he stared at the growing crowd of worshippers.
“To offer such a vast sum so freely in these hard times…”
“A v-vast sum…?”
It was not only the faithful who gathered. Ordinary townsfolk walking the streets began to drift closer as well.
Kopman gaped at the scene, then turned a glare on his men.
“What in the blazes is going on!”
“Well…”
In the lowest voice he could manage, the soldier explained everything that had happened.
Ceris had not kept a single coin of the gold she received. After hauling the cart into the city she had gone straight to the temple of Elune and donated the entire three hundred thousand gold.
And she had told them: every last piece of that donation was given in the name of the knight Andere Del Kopman.
The temple of Elune did not send the money on to the Holy Kingdom. Instead they used it for the citizens of this land who were suffering through the unending winter.
Oil, blankets, clothing, food—they purchased vast quantities from foreign merchants who had crossed the sea and distributed everything freely.
It was only natural that Kopman’s reputation soared. He had put the much-talked-of noblesse oblige into practice. Through the townsfolk who received the relief goods bearing his name, word of his good deeds spread like wildfire.
Kopman’s mouth hung open. He felt as though his very soul were draining out of his body.
He had thought there was still time. He had planned to claim the money from the transaction was tainted and use his rank to force its return.
But even that path was now closed forever.
“Long live Count Kopman!”
“Long live Count Kopman!”
The citizens’ cheers rose together with the prayers of Elune’s faithful. Golden holy power rained down upon him. Kopman closed his eyes.
“L-Lord Kopman!”
“Over there—Emily… no, Ceris is…!”
“Yeah…”
“So that’s the place…”
Su, Shu, and Foldrin spoke almost as one.
Foldrin gazed at the vast continent drawing nearer—Monster Island—and felt not a single shred of regret for the choice he had made.
He closed his fingers around the symbol of Elune that hung from his necklace and let the past wash over him.
His journey had originally been meant to end in the savage lands of Greenfall. As a holy knight he had been sent there to investigate traces of black magic.
While fulfilling his duty in Greenfall he had also learned the whereabouts of the girl he had sought for so long.
But by then the girl named Ceris had already left.
Foldrin had been forced to wrestle with himself. Once the investigation in Greenfall concluded he would have no choice but to return to the Holy Kingdom—meaning he could pursue her no farther.
He had prayed to Elune. What should he do?
And Elune had answered: follow what you believe is right.
The moment he heard those words, Foldrin stole a horse without a second thought and set off after Ceris.
He rode and rode, endlessly. Desertion was a grave crime, yet his holy power never dimmed.
That path led him to the Karuma Empire. There he learned of Ceris’s final destination and met the twin childhood friends from her hometown—Shu and Su.
Strangely enough, the two of them were already using a clumsy version of Elune’s Flash. Foldrin was certain: this was fate. Every thread of destiny was binding him to Ceris.
He taught Su and Shu the proper form of Elune’s Flash. Thanks to that training the twins, once mere Bronze Rank, rose to Silver Rank swordsmen, and together the three of them were able to board the ship bound for Monster Island.
“Disembark!”
The ship had arrived. The instant the captain’s order rang out, the three of them leapt ashore without waiting for anyone else.