The Gathering Storm
In the military his name already carried considerable weight, and on days without battle he was obliged to attend the meetings and assemblies held within the imperial palace.
"Sir Kareha, please enter."
The guards opened the door with respectful courtesy, and he stepped inside wearing an expressionless face.
Each footfall along the long corridor rang clean and sharp against the stone floor.
The conference chamber that soon appeared was marked by doors carved with intricate patterns and an interior carpeted in deep red. Several nobles and generals had already gathered and begun the session.
He inclined his head slightly in greeting, then walked quietly to a seat at the rear.
"We must discuss the reinforcement of defenses along the border regions."
The border, is it…
Though the seat was called a rear place, gazes that might have been fear or respect for the power he now wielded as a grown man turned toward him.
In that brief pause one of the elder nobles cleared his throat, unfolded a thick sheaf of documents, and spoke. The content was familiar to him.
No one was preparing for the possible appearance of the Demon King, yet in truth the empire’s frontiers remained constantly exposed to threats both great and small. To the north stretched harsh wastelands where monsters roamed frequently; to the south the mighty rival, the Liberia Empire, forever watched for a chance to invade. Opinions clashed between those who insisted “defense is vital” and those who claimed “attack is the best defense.”
He watched the nobles’ quarreling in silence. They busied themselves with practical advantage and face; from his vantage the whole exchange felt only stifling.
"Sir Kareha, we would hear your thoughts."
One of the generals turned the question to him.
He hesitated a moment, then answered with measured calm.
"Strengthening the defensive lines is of course necessary. Yet mere wall repairs and troop increases of the sort we practice now have their limits. They may hold back bandits or monsters, but what if a greater threat arrives? We require the redeployment of reserve forces and a training system prepared for that contingency."
The nobles murmured. Some looked puzzled at the phrase “greater threat”; others grew preoccupied calculating their own interests.
"What exactly do you mean by that ‘greater threat’?"
Another noble asked, eyes edged with suspicion.
He lowered his gaze briefly, then raised it again.
"If the enemy nations bordering the empire resolve upon a large-scale invasion, our present preparations will prove insufficient. Beyond that, organized monster raids or disasters beyond imagination may yet strike."
By “disaster beyond imagination” Kareha meant the invasion of the demon race under the Demon King. Most present agreed with the general sense of his words, yet none spoke the name of the Demon King itself. He, too, could not discuss the Demon King openly. To utter the word was still dangerous. The majority dismissed it as mere legend; to raise it without evidence would only give fresh voice to those who still called him a green boy.
As the meeting lengthened he grew steadily more weary. The nobles’ slow exchange of opinions and compromises dragged on, while the dread that the future catastrophe he knew might truly come pressed hard upon his heart.
In the end the council closed with a conclusion that was scarcely a conclusion at all.
On the way out of the chamber he encountered Duke Ludvert, one of the emperor’s closest confidants. The duke was a middle-aged man distinguished by the splendid purple cloak he customarily wore. Seeing Adolf Kareha, he smiled with quiet amusement.
"Sir Kareha, once again you offered sharp counsel today."
The duke’s voice was smooth.
He bowed stiffly.
"My thanks, Your Grace."
The duke gestured for him to halt, then stepped a little aside toward the corridor wall and continued in a lowered tone.
"Personally I find myself curious about the view Sir Kareha holds of the empire’s future. One almost wonders whether you are quietly preparing against some vast catastrophe…"
In that instant he tensed. The man before him was a heavyweight who held real power within the empire. A careless word could draw far greater scrutiny.
"When one concerns oneself with the empire’s safety, one naturally entertains various possibilities."
He answered in the driest tone he could manage.
The duke regarded him with eyes full of curiosity.
"Indeed. It feels as though you know something the rest of us do not. I shall not press the matter now. Still, the empire has need of men like you. Continue to serve us well."
When the duke turned and departed, he quietly released a breath. Whether it was the cold-blooded air Kareha projected or simply the duke’s own shrewdness, the man had somehow sensed the anxiety he carried. In any case the duke had also implied his support, and Kareha now felt keenly that he was rising as a figure of consequence within the empire. At the same time the fear that the slightest lapse of caution might expose the secret of his past-life memories closed in upon him.
That night, instead of the library, he made his way to a small magic research chamber inside the palace. It housed literature seized in war and ancient documents donated by nobles. He held no special permit, yet the emperor’s trust and the confidence of the palace staff already allowed him free passage almost anywhere.
"Surely somewhere there must be accurate records of the Demon King…"
Lighting candles as he went, he searched the dust-laden shelves. One by one he examined documents written in ancient tongues that few ever sought. Stories, legends, and religious tomes lay jumbled together. He reviewed them volume by volume, striving to find points of resemblance with the novel’s settings.
Only deep into the night did he at last discover a clue pointing to the Demon King inside a thick volume resembling a great scripture.
The Demon King is a being cursed by the gods, called the Lord of Darkness most feared by all humanity…
He turned the old ancient-language sentences over in his mind, recalling the novel’s contents. In the novel the Demon King was said to achieve perfect resurrection ten years hence. Yet now he judged that timing uncertain.
Dugel Mine Contract Signed…
Intelligence on Liberia’s New Standard Weapons Deployment
Already several events were occurring earlier—or differently—than planned.
"Someday the Demon King will certainly appear."
He closed the book and asked himself,
"Will I truly be able to stop him?"
Clutching the volume to his chest, he rose slowly. And suddenly the Hero came to mind. In the original novel the decisive figure who would ultimately fell the Demon King was the Hero, yet he could not predict how that birth itself might change.
"Will it suddenly be some accidental birth of a child…?"
The Hero was an existence every bit as uncertain as the Demon King.
A few days later he left the palace and returned to the mansion that belonged to his house. Early that morning he was swinging his sword in the training ground set in one corner of the family garden. Beneath a clear sky the tip of his blade sliced the air with a sharp whistle.
Then his father approached. The older man’s hair was already streaked with gray, yet once he had been a valiant knight who commanded a small border order of the empire. Adolf lowered his sword and greeted him.
"Training hard again today, I see."
Pride colored his father’s voice.
He bowed his head.
"Yes. I still feel I am lacking."
His father regarded him quietly for a moment, then asked,
"Kareha, you have earned many merits by now. You could rest a little. People call you the empire’s young war hero, yet you always look taut with tension."
He offered a faint smile.
"Simply winning wars is not enough to satisfy me. For the empire to become truly safe, much still remains to be done."
His father nodded, though he still could not fathom the depths of his son’s heart. He let out a small sigh.
"Very well. Whatever path you choose hereafter, I will support you. Only do not push yourself too hard."
Adolf Kareha bowed in gratitude, then raised his sword once more. His thoughts remained fixed upon the Demon King, the Hero, and the twisted future. The secret he could confide not even to father or mother weighed heavily upon him.
That evening, while sorting through a long stack of documents, he received a small letter. An urgent dispatch had arrived from the empire’s western border.
Monster packs have appeared once more along the western border. If left unchecked, there is grave concern that the damage will spread as far as the neighboring cities.
He read the letter and at once issued orders to prepare for deployment. He would lead the unit to the site himself. Monster outbreaks were no longer unusual, yet he could never quite shake the unease that whispered, Might this time be some different signal?
The night before departure, rain fell in a steady drizzle. Leaning against the window of the mansion’s reception room, he watched the garden darken under the soft rain. All was still; only the sound of water lingered in his ears.
"Is the reason I race to the battlefield like this… truly only to protect the empire?"
He asked himself. People praised him as a hero, yet deep within his heart guilt over his past life and the fear that he himself was warping this world’s destiny lived side by side.
"I want somehow to keep us from ruin… Yet already history has tangled."
He closed his eyes and tried to banish the countless scenes that rose in his mind. Still the novel’s pages and the horrific sights he had witnessed on real battlefields overlapped and would not leave him.
At dawn he left the mansion with a handful of trusted aides. Soldiers had the horses ready; the low snorting of war mounts sounded in the darkness. Clad in armor, the family crest fluttering on his cloak, he swung into the saddle.
"We depart."
After that brief farewell the company rode out through the rain toward the western border.