2. Winter Expedition - 01
2. Winter Expedition - 01
To get straight to the point, the expeditionary force assembled to subjugate the 'Winter Witch' was small. Not counting me—the guide and, if necessary, a meat shield—there were only four others.
Looking back, I can understand how a compact, elite force like this was actually better suited to our circumstances.
First, the Empire was suffering from a severe food shortage because of the endless winter sweeping the continent. No matter how much they had stockpiled, under those conditions, assembling an expeditionary force and setting aside extra provisions for them was a clearly dangerous gamble.
To put it bluntly, suppose they selected a thousand elites, gave them rations, and sent them north to slay the witch once and for all. If a thousand elites came marching back in triumph with the witch's head, nothing could be better.
But what if a thousand elites got utterly crushed by a single witch and came back as frozen corpses? The outcome was obvious. The Empire would disintegrate on the spot. They would have squandered the food, lost precious manpower capable of fighting the witch, and all hope would vanish like bubbles.
If the expedition goes as a small party, however, the Empire doesn't need to allocate much food, and even if they fail, they can simply assemble another expeditionary force.
There was just one thing I found unacceptable—the fact that a glorious, honorable mission to slay the witch, the continent's public enemy, had included a vile criminal like me as the guide...
"...Fucking bastard of a man. If it weren't for the Emperor, I'd rip these rank insignias off and swing."
I could see right through the Emperor's utterly black heart.
Reason number one: the Emperor forced me into the expeditionary force and stuck me with the 'guide' role, and I'm certain it was to restore the honor of House Estel—which had fallen about as low as it could go.
Needless to say, the Emperor made that call not out of any deep regard for House Estel, but largely because House Estel is one of the Empire's only four ducal houses.
House Estel is a destitute house with nothing worth mentioning, tucked away at the farthest edge of the already barren north, but it's also a musty old house with a history that stretches back to the Empire's founding. At the same time, the Four Great Ducal Houses are the families that, by virtue of that very legitimacy, support the authority the Imperial Household wields in each region.
In other words, the Emperor staged this little play not because he pitied me, but because he was afraid his own power would shrink if House Estel collapsed.
Reason number two: the Emperor was undeniably right that I was the most suitable person for the 'guide' role. As I just said, the Estel Territory is a backwater at the extreme end of the north, a region infamous for being harsh and barren. Adventurers willing to visit a backwater with no specialty goods and no outstanding scenery were exceedingly rare, and people who knew the terrain of the Estel Territory in detail were even rarer.
It's laughable, but I couldn't deny that I—who at least had a rough grasp of the local geography from patrolling the Estel Territory once a year—was the best fit for the 'guide' role.
Lastly, the members of the expeditionary force were all high-ranking nobles. Five of us, myself included, would be stuck together for a long time, and they couldn't exactly include a commoner among us.
Thus, through a tangle of circumstances, Duke Kain von Estel was reinvented—from a prisoner rotting in a dungeon to a proud member of the glorious expeditionary force sent to defeat the witch.
...But looking back now, I think I should never have accepted the role of guide.
No, I think I would have been more at peace if I had just bitten my tongue and died in that dungeon.
The time from the expeditionary force's formation to the subjugation of the witch was one year.
Because I spent that entire year in literal hell.
****
First, let me introduce the four members of the 'Winter Expedition,' a party destined to be etched forever in human history.
First, the mage. I'm talking about a woman named Bianca del Castana.
If you only looked at her appearance, Bianca del Castana was a stunning, breathtaking beauty.
Her flaming red hair was a testament to her Castana bloodline, and her perfect figure—curved where it should curve and slender where it should be slender—only accentuated her beauty.
...But what did that matter? To my eyes, Bianca looked like nothing more than a demoness who had just crawled out of hell.
Because Bianca hated me. Very, very, very, very much. No, it wasn't just dislike. She clearly considered me worse than a cockroach she might pass on the street.
Bianca's reasons for hating me involved some complicated history. If I explained it all properly, I might be up all night, so I'll just say it stemmed from the deep-rooted antagonism between House Estel and House Castana.
When I was young, I never imagined the karmic debts our glorious ancestors piled up would come back to me directly.
I figured that even if Bianca was a little lacking in manners, I could just avoid her. And indeed, aside from a few chance encounters in life, I never had to meet her.
...Right. Until I heard she was the mage for the 'Winter Expedition.'
"Oh my, if it isn't Duke Estel, who's been stirring up the entire continent lately? To think the Duke himself would take on the role of guide—truly, what an honor."
When I saw Bianca's eyes light up as she looked at me, as if she had caught a prize, I was so terrified I nearly pissed myself.
In the expeditionary force, I was a mere guide, while she was a core pillar of the force sent to subjugate the witch.
From that point on, the hierarchy between us was already set in stone.
"...Please, speak less formally. I hold the title of viscount now; there's no need for Lady Castana to address me with such deference."
At first, the higher-ups stripped me of my title, going on about 'the heart of a leader serving alongside the ranks' or some such nonsense, but then they must have decided I needed a nameplate, however hollow, and tossed me the rank of honorary viscount like throwing a bone.
But since it was merely an honorary title, I couldn't deny my status was far below Bianca's—she who could be called House Castana's direct descendant and was simultaneously one of the top five archmages in the Empire. Naturally, speaking to her casually was unthinkable.
"Hmm. Really? Then I'll speak casually. Ah, Kain. Let's get along, shall we? Ufufu."
Bianca dropped the honorifics on the spot, without a single show of modesty. I'm certain it was no illusion that her eyes on me resembled a hawk eyeing its prey.
However, while the expedition preparations were underway, she didn't harass or insult me. She was unexpectedly docile, and I let my guard down, thinking Bianca had matured over the time I hadn't seen her. After all, a full twenty years had passed since I last saw her; I had naively thought even a woman as insufferable as Bianca might have changed a little.
...But I was wrong. Like calm, sunny weather before a storm, the misfortune about to strike me was merely waiting for the optimal moment.
Once the preparations were complete and the expeditionary force left the Imperial Capital for the north, Bianca openly bared her fangs, like a snake revealing its venomous teeth.
"Kain. I have something to say to you."
"Yeah. What is it, Bianca?"
Since Bianca had told me to speak casually to her, I answered without reservation. Of course, I thought it would be better if we both used polite speech, but Bianca threw such a fit that I was left with no choice but to drop formalities. Thanks to that, I learned how exhausting it is to act chummy with someone you aren't close to.
"I left my earring at the camp we stayed in this morning. Go get it."
"...The camp from this morning? Going back there would take a good two hours."
"...So, are you saying you don't want to? Huh?"
The moment a negative opinion slipped from my mouth, Bianca's eyebrows shot up. Having spent quite a long time with this goddamn wench, I knew well that Bianca had a habit of arching her eyebrows whenever something displeased her. In other words, it meant Bianca might snap at any moment and shove a spell right through my skull.
"...No, I'm just saying there could be magical beasts along the way back. If I get hurt or die on the way there, it could throw off the expedition schedule, right?"
As I offered that excuse, I glanced at the other expedition members, hoping someone might stop this insane woman, but they just wore blank expressions, as if they couldn't care less whose dog was barking. It was a fresh reminder, but I confirmed once again that I had no allies in this godforsaken expedition.
"Mm, well. I suppose that's true. Without the guide, the expedition could face delays. You're right, Kain."
With that, Bianca casually tossed me a strange-looking charm.
"...What's this?"
"A charm to repel magical beasts. It should stay effective for about a day, so now there's no problem, right?"
Not even caring that my face twisted into an ugly grimace, Bianca waved her hand dismissively, as if shooing away a fly.
"What are you doing? Aren't you going?"
'You fucking bitch.'
But what could I do? Running for four hours straight like a dog to fetch an earring was still better than dying.
And so, after I nearly ran myself to death and brought the earring back, Bianca shoved it deep into her bag without a word of thanks. For the record, that earring never came out of the depths of her bag for the rest of the expedition.
For the record, this episode was a truly trivial matter, merely the tip of the iceberg among the incidents that occurred during that year-long expedition.
The humiliations I suffered at Bianca's hands became a precious time that made me keenly aware of where the bottom of my patience truly lay.
And then there was a day like this.
"Hey, Kain. You're free, right?"
For the record, at that moment I was busily chopping wood to gather firewood for the campfire. If you had to pick the most useless person in the expedition, I would take first place without contest; I hope you understand I was struggling desperately to be of some help to the force.
'Don't you have eyes? Can't you see I'm chopping wood?'
I couldn't say that out loud, so I reluctantly nodded.
"Great that you're free, then. Come into my tent in a bit."
"Your tent? Why?"
"Ah, so many questions! Just come in when I tell you to come in; why are you talking so much!"
She suddenly flared up in anger and stormed back to her tent, fuming.
'Does she have an anger management disorder?'
But this wasn't the first or second day the bitch had acted like that, so I obediently entered her tent.
"Bianca. I'm coming in."
"Yeah, hurry up and get in. You're letting in cold air."
As I stepped inside Bianca's tent, a hot, stuffy air—completely different from the outside—hit me.
She was surely using magic to keep her personal space this comfortable.
Every night, I would pile on every piece of clothing I owned and shiver myself to sleep to avoid freezing to death, and the thought that this woman slept in such a cozy place really started to piss me off.
I lifted my head to look at Bianca and saw her with her long, slender white legs completely bare.
I figured she had probably been about to wash up.
"Why did you call me? Do you need something?"
"No, not that."
Bianca tapped her long legs with her fingers and spoke to me.
"You're free, right? Give me a massage."