The Long Road Home
Even after ten days of travel by carriage, we still hadn't reached our destination — Meyer Territory. Given that the journey was always going to take more than ten days, I supposed there was nothing for it.
The horses were sturdy enough, and Holy Magic kept them recovered, but there was still a limit to how far we could travel in a single day.
And over those ten days, I researched sparkling water — carbonated water — and managed to reach a conclusion of sorts. I had been right that carbon dioxide and powerful compressed air were what was needed to make it.
I had known that dissolving carbon dioxide into water was the basic principle, but I had misunderstood the compressed-air part. Bursting a compressed wind bead inside a bottle to mix water and air — how had I ever settled on such a crude method? The sheer power of the wind bead had managed to produce carbonated water, sure, but it was wildly inefficient.
The proper way to make carbonated water was to apply strong pressure so that the water and carbon dioxide would mix.
Applying pressure wasn't difficult. First, I would inject exhaled breath or campfire smoke into a bottle and quickly secure it to the ground. Then I'd pour water in rapidly and press down on the bottle from above with a wind barrier made by magic. That was all there was to it.
The wind barrier would press steadily downward on the bottle, generating powerful pressure inside. By carefully adjusting the barrier to fit snugly against the mouth of a flask, I could apply pressure without any gaps — and carbonated water formed with ease.
There was no need to withstand violent vibrations. And if the water was cold, the carbon dioxide dissolved even better, so excessive pressure wasn't necessary either.
I could make sparkling water — carbonated water — with truly remarkable ease.
I figured this out six days after obtaining the flask.
Once carbonated water became easy to produce, a small change appeared at our table: we started drinking a beverage of fruit juice mixed with carbonated water. Apparently, the one I had made that one time had been a hit.
Making carbonated water wasn't hard, and I liked it myself, so I prepared it often.
And today, we decided to rest a little earlier than usual.
We could have kept going easily enough, but that would have meant camping outdoors — and since we were near a large city rather than a small village, we chose to stop and rest.
Gathered at the inn, we spread out a map and studied it.
"We're still a long way off."
We had already been traveling for ten days, and we still had five more to go.
"Yes. Being stuck with a carriage means we can't take the faster routes — that makes a big difference."
Winter was truly drawing to a close now, and I could sense Maximilian's restlessness. He needed to get back to his territory as soon as possible.
"There's something I've been curious about for a while."
I pointed at the territory boundaries marked on the map.
"Your family's territory… it's, uh, pretty big, isn't it?"
Some other families had large holdings, true. But Maximilian's house was a barony. For a barony — the lowest rank among the nobility — the territory looked far too vast.
"Ah, so that's what you were wondering about?"
"Yes."
Thinking about it, something had always seemed odd. It had taken ten days to travel from the village where I was born and raised to the center of the barony. Considering there was even an outpost near our village, it was truly strange.
Didn't that mean the distance from the barony's center all the way to the border was a full ten days? And from Meyer Territory to Valdeck Territory — the one on the way to the capital — that had also taken about ten days. It was strangely expansive.
"In truth, Meyer Territory wasn't always this large."
And so Maximilian's history lecture began. Apparently, Meyer Territory had originally been quite small, and the lands that made up the current territory had once been divided among three separate families.
"But the border was the problem. Raids and plunder by barbarians never ceased."
Even if they wanted to mobilize military force to stop the raids, they couldn't hire private soldiers, so there was a limit to what they could do. The kingdom did send troops, but by the time they arrived the raiders had already finished looting and gone home. Stationing soldiers for long periods — or permanently — was simply too expensive.
"And so the number of plundered villages grew, and more and more of the territory's people continued to die."
Things reached a point where people could no longer live there. Many began fleeing inland to escape the raids, and even the lords couldn't stop them…
"The lords of the time did make every effort, I'm told."
But they couldn't stop the barbarian raids that swept through like swarms of locusts. Nobles who rode out to stop them were killed, and there were even cases where the lord's castle itself was completely stripped bare.
When the lords who were supposed to govern the land died, the people lost their center of gravity, and another wave of refugees fled. Considering how rare it was for people to abandon a village — land being so precious — it spoke volumes about how severe the raids had been.
"The royal family finally acknowledged their mistake then. But who would willingly take on such a dangerous region?"
They wanted to appoint another noble as lord of the area, but the villages and lands had already been destroyed — reduced to wasteland where not even a blade of grass remained. No one would accept the post.
"In the end, our ancestor — whose territory was the closest — took on the duty, and the royal family agreed to permanently station soldiers there."
When Maximilian's ancestor accepted the defense of the region, they handed over the entire ruined territory? Shouldn't they have at least raised his rank?
When I pointed that out, Maximilian laughed.
"My ancestor at the time said it was only natural for a noble of the kingdom to do so, and refused a promotion in rank. Honestly, even though he was my ancestor, it was a foolish thing to do."
And the royal family had happily accepted, of course…
"At any rate, that's how our territory expanded. But the already-destroyed lands were so vast and sprawling that they became territory beyond the reach of our administrative power."
And the people, still terrified of the raids, never returned to those lands?
Though there were a few slash-and-burn villages like ours… Of course — if administrative power didn't reach them, they wouldn't collect taxes either…
Maximilian's family wanted to revitalize those areas if they could, but maintaining the outposts was about all they managed… Who would listen if you told them to move to a place still at risk of raids? Maybe if they offered generous support, but…
"Still, we continuously send soldiers under the pretext of training exercises, which at least keeps bandits from running rampant."
With a measure of safety secured that way, the number of slash-and-burn villages had apparently grown somewhat.
Come to think of it, the village where my sister and I were born and raised was one of those villages.
"I see…"
"The kingdom has already half-abandoned that territory, so reconstruction isn't even under consideration."
It wasn't as though the population had exploded beyond capacity, so they were taking a leisurely approach, Maximilian added.
Thinking it through carefully, founding a village wasn't an easy thing.
For one thing, the need for various skilled craftsmen was a major problem. Carpenters and blacksmiths were highly valued professionals. Would people who could live comfortably in any other village go off to found a slash-and-burn settlement?
I certainly wouldn't give up a stable life.
On top of that, you needed apothecaries and people to defend the village, so the numbers had to be substantial. Ten people gathering to make a village? Absolutely impossible. You needed at least fifty people — ideally a hundred or more — to properly establish a village.
That was why the kingdom had given up on reconstruction.
"Well, according to the reports, villages are gradually springing up on their own."
"Is that so?"
"Yes. We don't investigate where they came from or what pasts they carry."
I couldn't bring myself to laugh at that.
Our village, too, had been founded by exiles, after all… I didn't know what their pasts had been, but now it was just an ordinary village.
"More than that, I'm worried."
"About what?"
"Spring is almost here, isn't it? What if those barbarians launch a raid?"
Maximilian smiled softly, his eyes crinkling.
"My absence alone won't cause any problems. Do you know how many soldiers are at the outposts?"
"You think so?"
"Yes. Still, better safe than sorry — we should hurry."
"I'll, uh, send some supplies as well."
Poisons, Fram bombs, that sort of thing.
"There's no need. Nothing that serious will happen."
Would it, though?
If we were setting out early again tomorrow, I should get to sleep soon. Still, it had been nice to hear such an interesting story.
On the road back to Meyer Territory, there were a few incidents as well.
Bandits again, of all things. I supposed in an age like this, they were inevitable.
The bandits had apparently seen the carriage with no visible escort and thought it an easy target — but the moment Maximilian and Priest Daniel stepped in, they were smashed to pieces in under ten minutes.
We also ran into small groups of monsters, but with our overwhelming combat power, we swept them all aside.
"We've finally arrived."
With so little distance left to the territory, we kept traveling even after nightfall. As a result, it was already the dead of night when we arrived at the city gates.
"Yes. It's been a long journey."
Was it nearly nine months since we'd left?
Should I say "only nine months"? Or "a whole nine months"?
If it hadn't been such a dark night, I would have looked around to see what had changed — but it was too dark to make anything out.
"Where will all of you be going?"
Maximilian asked.
"Hmm? Should I go to Master's place?"
Finding a place to sleep here was no trouble at all. There was Master's secondhand bookstore, the temple… or I could even go to the baron's manor.
"Let's focus on getting inside first."
He had worked hard handling the carriage alone.
"Alright."
Because it was night, the gates were firmly locked, and a guard stood watch.
When Maximilian approached the sentry, I heard the soldier cry out in surprise. After a brief exchange of this and that, the city gates gradually began to open.
Once the gates opened, the carriage slowly rolled inside, and the familiar — affectionate? — cityscape came into view.
At last, we had returned to this city that felt almost like home…