Frost Wind (5)
Dante spent the night at Rivera’s house. Leon treated him with the utmost deference the moment he learned Dante had hired his daughter. An imperial noble? So what? The man was paying his daughter’s salary!
“Leon, there’s something I’d like to ask you.”
“Yes, sir! Ask anything!”
Both Leon and Rivera were ready to listen. Dante asked his questions at an unhurried pace, and as expected, Leon knew a great deal.
“You came here to look for bugs?!”
“Yes. I’m conducting research in that field.”
“…Remarkable. A mage, no less.” Leon’s admiration was genuine. In this remote mountain village, one rarely saw a mage, let alone heard reliable rumors about them. Even the absurd notion of searching for bugs seemed plausible coming from a mage.
“I plan to survey the local ecosystem first.”
“Hmm. You’ll need to be careful.”
Dante nodded. “I hear the monster wave will begin soon.”
Leon’s expression darkened. “No, sir. It’s not that.”
“Then the liberation army?”
“Not them either.”
“…?”
The name that left Leon’s lips was one Dante already knew. “I’m not sure exactly where it starts or ends, but there’s a restricted zone nearby.”
“A restricted zone? Here?”
“Some religious group calling itself the Hand of Power… or something like that. A fellow named Lakravan has set up camp.”
“!” Dante was surprised but showed nothing. Lakravan Elder—the name Esilia had given him. The man who led the northern branch of the cult known as the Hand of Power.
“So this Lakravan controls the area?”
“Yes. You’d be better off waiting until the monster wave passes. The knights will all be busy then; they won’t have time to escort you.”
Leon spoke out of concern, yet Dante felt no hesitation. His target was close? All the better.
“Do you know anyone who could guide me through the forest?”
Leon looked troubled. “There are a few, but…”
Just then, a loud knocking echoed through the house. Rivera glanced out the window. “It’s those people again.”
“I’ll handle it.” Leon strode to the door and flung it open. “You idiots! I told you to get lost—”
In the next instant, someone shoved him aside. “Out of the way, old man.”
“Ugh…!”
“Dad!”
Leon staggered and fell. He might have been a fiery northerner once, but years of drinking had left him a middle-aged man with little strength left. A burly youth easily overpowered him.
Several young men poured inside, each gripping a wooden club. Dante watched them with a faint smile. “Heading to the laundry this early? How diligent.”
“Still got time to joke around, Your Lordship?” The largest youth stepped forward.
“Dad…!” Rivera clutched Leon, her eyes brimming with tears. “You bastards! How dare you lay hands on an elder!”
The youth sneered. “Elder? A dog wagging its tail at an imperial? What right does he have to call himself an elder?”
“…!”
“Traitors deserve to have their heads cut off, don’t they?”
Rivera glared at him for a moment, then suddenly spoke. “You’re not from this village, are you?”
“…”
“Where did you come from? Why are you causing trouble in someone else’s home?”
As a lifelong resident, Rivera remembered most of the local children. Even if she didn’t, they would remember her—she had been a strikingly pretty girl. Yet this youth neither greeted her nor showed any sign of recognition. Because he was an outsider.
Realizing she had seen through him, the youth panicked and raised his hand. “You little—!”
Rivera squeezed her eyes shut, but the blow never landed. Dante rose quietly from his chair and kicked the man square in the chest.
“Graaah—!” The youth tumbled across the floor. The others stared in shock, but when Dante met their gazes, none dared move first.
“You bastard…!” The fallen man staggered to his feet, eyes blazing with rage. Dante spoke mockingly. “You swing violence around so easily, yet you can’t endure it yourself?”
“Pale-faced weakling! I’ll break every bone in your body!”
The youth gathered mana, convinced that a pampered imperial noble would be no match for a warrior raised in the harsh north. Dante tossed his jacket to Rivera. “Hold this for a moment.”
“Ah… Yes!”
The youth laughed at the display. Showing off in front of a woman? Pathetic. He would beat Dante senseless and see how long that arrogance lasted.
Then Dante’s fist shot forward like lightning and smashed into the youth’s face.
“Guh—!” It was a single, mana-infused punch heavy enough to end a tournament match on the spot. This was no sport, however—only a brutal street fight. Dante followed up with a crushing blow to the stomach. Something tore and cracked beneath his knuckles. The other youths backed away in terror. They had heard the sound of bones breaking.
“What are you doing?!” someone shouted. “Get him! There’s only one of him!”
Dante’s fist silenced the speaker. Blood streamed from a shattered nose. Within seconds the second youth lay unconscious, face battered and bloody. The rest dropped their clubs and fell to their knees.
“W-We were forced to come!”
“That’s right! We didn’t want to!”
Dante regarded them coldly. “Do you really expect me to believe that?”
“…”
“Pathetic.”
He pulled a chair over and sat down, his well-muscled torso now visible without the jacket. Rivera hurried to his side, cheeks flushed from the sudden violence. “Would you like your jacket back, sir?”
“It’s warm enough. Just hold it.”
“Yes…!”
Dante crossed his legs and looked down at the kneeling youths. “I won’t ask twice. Who are you?”
One youth bowed his head. “We’re members of the Northern Youth Advancement Association. Our team leader ordered us to befriend Leon and encourage him to join the liberation army.”
“Who runs this association?”
“…”
“Answer.”
The youths exchanged glances. It was obvious the Advancement Association was a front. Dante extended his hand. A jet-black insect crawled out from beneath his collar—Mr. Bar the Fourth, his loyal retainer.
‘Walk across his face.’
[Across his face? That seems rather rude.]
‘He was rude first. Consider it payback.’
[Ah! Then leave it to me, Dante-sensei!]
Mr. Bar spread his wings and landed squarely on the youth’s face.
“U-Uwaaaah! Aaaagh!” The man thrashed wildly, but Dante’s voice cut through the panic. “You have two choices: tell me everything, or suffer something far worse than you can imagine.”
Mr. Bar diligently trampled the man’s face. The youth finally broke. “I-I’ll talk! I’ll tell you everything!”
“Then speak.”
“The Advancement Association collects dues for the Hand of Power! Lakravan Elder is their leader—we’ve never met him!”
Dante recalled the insect. As expected, working in the field yielded results quickly. The Hand of Power was funding idle northern youths and using them to recruit discontented locals like Leon into the liberation army.
“P-Please forgive us! We’ll never do it again!”
“I’ll leave your punishment to Leon.”
Leon nodded grimly. “I’ll discuss it with the villagers.”
He had felt a certain camaraderie with these youths, but anyone who approached with hidden motives had to be cut off without mercy. From now on, he would drive away every suspicious character who spoke of the liberation army.
Dante asked one final question. “I heard Lakravan has declared a restricted zone. What do you know about it?”
The youths spilled every detail they possessed. “We heard they’re excavating some kind of ancient ruin!”
“We don’t know the details, but the cultists treat it as extremely important!”
“A ruin?” Dante’s interest sharpened. “An ancient mage’s ruin, they said… They’ve hired so many mercenaries that no one can get close!”
An ancient mage. Dante recalled a passage from the Imperial Bug Guidebook the Tower Lord had given him: a mad mage in the ancient north who had researched opening dimensional gates to another world—and among those experiments had been one involving insects from that other world.
If the ruin still existed, records of that research might remain. “Either way, I have to investigate Lakravan.”
He addressed the youths. “I need one guide. Only one.”
“…Yes?”
“I want to see the ruin the Hand of Power is controlling.”
The youths glanced at one another, then shouted over each other. “I’ll do it!” “Leave it to me!” “I actually believe in the Hand of Power!”
Dante glanced at Rivera. “Pick one suitable person.”
“Yes, sir!”
As Rivera approached, the youths bowed their heads at once. Becoming the servant of this imperial noble might be their only chance to escape this nightmare.
“Give me the chance!” “I’ll do it!”
Rivera suppressed a smile and chose one of the younger men.