Beyond the Western Gate
“I see. So the primary purpose is the hunt, and stopping by to greet me was merely a courtesy…”
There was no need to observe formalities and sit face-to-face, nor any intention of imposing on the count’s hospitality. A brief appearance was enough—just enough to show that he was not being slighted.
Whether the margrave grasped Helena’s intent or not, he remained standing in the front courtyard, stroking his chin.
“Well, even if I could divine the duchess’s mind, what good would it do me? In any case, having a master of such renown lend us her strength is more than welcome. I don’t know how long you mean to stay, but I look forward to working with you.”
“Yes. Thank you.”
The two nobles exchanged a light handshake, finished their greetings without lingering, and turned their backs on each other. The count headed into the manor; we set off toward the western gate, where the frontline base was said to stand.
Monsters, much like people, grew active in warm weather—but that was precisely when people themselves were busiest. From the most basic labor of farming onward, life became a whirl of work. And so it was that active hunting expeditions tended to fall in winter, when folk were relatively idle.
“Lately it seems strange things keep happening. I never expected to meet another human who doesn’t so much as frown at the sight of us.”
Ellen spoke with her gaze lifted skyward, as if recalling the count’s face. From her perspective, it was no wonder she found it remarkable. Simply not flaunting open revulsion was rare enough to feel precious.
“The land itself isn’t poor, but this place is barren in the sense that it always shares a border with monsters. Somewhere like that breeds a certain attitude—if something is useful, you use it, whatever it may be.”
“Mm. Now that you say it, that does make sense. You can tell just from how much thinner the stares are here than in other territories…”
The “density of stares” Ellen spoke of was the density of loathing. Of course I couldn’t claim that loathing was entirely absent—my mouth would tear open before I said such a thing—but there was no denying it was far milder here than elsewhere. It was, I thought, the pragmatism of people who lived and survived on harsh ground. If they were ever truly cornered, I half suspected they would scoop up latrine filth and hurl it—if only to blind eyes and noses, or choke the enemy with the stench.
“Ah, right. Duchess, once we reach the frontline base, what do you intend to do? Pay them for a spot inside the stockade?”
“No. It will be a bit inconvenient, but I mean to keep our distance from the fence. Reputation will help improve the present situation, true enough—but I have no desire to sit under stares as sharp as thorns.”
We had come to redirect the looks cast at the dark elves, yes, but that would not happen overnight. There was no guarantee we would even succeed. And if we lodged inside the safe enclosure, those prickling gazes might well find us. As Helena said, there was no need to invite the stress. If it worked, good; if not, so be it—and along the way, better to avoid what could be avoided. Even a familiar kind of stare could still grate.
“Thank you for the consideration.”
“The nature of it is different, but that place is a battlefield too. On a battlefield, nerves fray whether you like it or not. At the very least, I don’t want us worn out on that front as well.”
Ellen shook her head left and right as if casting something off, then gave a short laugh. She looked genuinely moved by the consideration in Helena’s words—words from someone who, for all that she wore a duchess’s body, thought carefully of others. The other dark elves seemed no different; they sent her looks of open respect.
“Helena Krauser. We’ve come to go out hunting.”
Soldiers stood watch atop the walls, and guards held the firmly shut gate. This was the outermost front, where the forest began the moment you stepped outside—and the military discipline here showed it. The eastern gate we had first entered had been well ordered, but it could not compare to the western gate.
“Word has already reached us. Welcome.”
The guard snapped a crisp military salute, then immediately drew a sheet of paper from the desk beside him and held it out to Helena. Curious, I flicked a glance at it—a simple contract of sorts, with a few lines of plain text.
“In case you’re unfamiliar, allow me to explain once. Just beyond this western gate lies the frontline base prepared by our lord. For a modest fee you may stay on ground set aside there, but we will not supply you with provisions. Tents and all other camping gear must be prepared by your own hands. The most we can offer is the relay of emergency signals and sentry duty.”
For the territory’s soldiers, rotating watch was inevitable either way—but when outsiders joined the camp, the situation changed. A night watch that would otherwise have to be stood in turn became unnecessary, and everyone gained a safer place to rest. Even if trouble broke out, it would begin on the outermost ring, and those farther in could hear the commotion and grasp the situation. Put more cynically, you could treat the margrave’s troops as meat shields while you prepared an escape or a counterattack. That was why some people paid to stay there. Just having someone else stand the watch in your place cut the mental strain dramatically, so the arrangement was fairly popular. Come to think of it, I had heard the money taken in this way was rather tidy… The margrave, it seemed, had more of a merchant’s talent than one might expect.
“And it is also perfectly fine if you choose not to stay with us and act independently. However, in that case we accept no responsibility whatsoever. That includes you, Your Grace—no exceptions. We issue this contract for that reason. How will you proceed?”
“Of course. We will act on our own.”
“Understood. Then if you would sign here…”
Helena signed the contract the guard offered without hesitation. A signature alone could be forged, so he had her prick her finger with something like a needle and press the drop of blood beside the name—a kind of fingerprint seal. Wounding a noble might have seemed rude in other circumstances, but a noble coming in person to sign a hunting contract was rare enough that no one had bothered to adjust the procedure.
“That concludes the contract. Thank you for your cooperation.”
“You’ve been working hard on the watch. Then I’ll take my leave.”
Receiving the guards’ parting salute as they opened the gate, we stepped straight outside. The vast forest spreading before us was overwhelming, and the encampment facing it was sizable in its own right. The base had been raised on a flat stretch that looked as though part of the woods had been cleared for it. With the rear open and the front and flanks wrapped in trees, it gave the uncanny sense of standing in a hole punched through the forest.
“We’ll need to put up our tents as well. Where should we set them?”
“Too deep wouldn’t be good, but too shallow isn’t ideal either. Sorry, Ellen—shall we cut our way in a moderate distance?”
“Very well. And we don’t much mind felling trees. Given how we’ve lived, speak up whenever you need it done.”
“Thank you.”
As if to show her gratitude for Helena’s consideration, Ellen took the lead and unfurled spirit magic. It was wind magic—sending blades of keen air flying to fell trees and clear a path forward. With heavy, resounding thuds, several trunks toppled. It looked as noisy and chaotic as a full-scale land-clearing, yet the way everyone divided the work and moved together was striking. I had once foolishly assumed it would be enough to pick a suitable spot and cut only the trees around it. Had I not realized they were also opening a road for hauling monster carcasses and widening their line of retreat, I might have gone on thinking that forever.
“Haa…!”
Working alongside the dark elves, I shoved the felled timber to one side and let out a heated breath. Before I had known mana, I would have groaned over a single log and failed to move it properly. I was grateful that was no longer the case.
“This space is fairly wide. Plenty of room for a few tents and then some.”
“Understood.”
I grabbed the camping gear and ran at once to the clearing they had marked. Magic had already swept it clean; nothing snagged underfoot, and it was an ideal place to pitch the tents. Nearby stumps would serve well enough as tables, and the firewood from the fallen trees was more than enough.
“Well, the site’s ready, more or less. Heading out to hunt straight away?”
Ellen’s question came the moment I set my pack down inside a tent. She looked a little tired, but not enough to hinder her. More than that, she and the other dark elves were all brimming with drive.
“No. The day’s nearly over. Let’s rest here for today.”
“Ah. Now that you mention it, the sunset’s already that far…”
Ellen tipped her head back with a blank murmur, as if only now noticing how the hours had slipped away while they worked. The deep red evening sun was already sinking past the peaks, and the moon, slipping free of the misty sky, was beginning to show its outline. She nodded then, and raised a hand in agreement with Helena’s decision.
“As the duchess says. Better to rest today.”
Perhaps it was only because the sun had set, but the air felt strangely restless. Distant human voices reached us only faintly, yet even that was enough. It wasn’t the voices themselves—it was the clear shift in the forest’s mood. Cold alone did not explain it. Night had fallen, and the monsters’ murderous gazes seemed to lick across us as they passed. By depth we were still only near the entrance, yet I already felt as though I had stepped into a beast’s maw. I was not alone in that feeling; the other women were all thoroughly on guard. Helena, pressed shoulder to shoulder with me, held herself ready to draw her sword at any moment, and even the dark elves—who outwardly seemed to be chatting as usual—scanned the surroundings with sharp light in their eyes.
“As blood-chilling as any battlefield. Drop your guard and sleep here, and you’d be a corpse before you knew it.”
Ellen swallowed a droplet of water she had shaped with spirit magic, her voice gone quiet and flat. Lighting a fire among the gathered kindling was only one of many ways that magic proved useful—not just in combat, but in the ordinary business of staying alive.
“Quite. Since the subject’s come up, shall we set the night watches now? And please count Zion and me as one person.”
“…Ah. Mm. Very well. Then as for the order…”
Even now, Helena pushed her own interest without shame and bent the watch roster to suit it. Thanks to that, we drew the first watch—the softest shift of the lot. Noble privilege was doing its work, I suspected, but in this moment I could only be glad of it.
“Are you truly all right with this? I feel bad making you take a watch at all. Even now, you could simply rest…”
“It’s fine. And it’s the first watch—the lightest burden. Besides, fretting over rank in a place this grim is more trouble than it’s worth.”
Helena’s easy smile as she said it had its logic. This was not the sort of place where you could stiffen your neck and strut about as a noble—and if you tried, you might well end up with a knife in you. Authority could weigh like iron on the shoulders, and yet at times it seemed light as a feather.
“I see. I can only admire the duchess’s goodwill and good sense.”
“You’re embarrassing me. It’s nothing worth admiring. Anyway—when your turn comes, go in and sleep. I’ll wake you when the time arrives.”