18. The Northern Continent (2)
The Grand Duchy of Carpatia.
A grand duchy of comparatively vast territory, stretching along the shores of the Alter Sea.
Above it lay the Glakien Margraviate; below, the Marea Republic pressed close. To the west sat the Infula Holy See and the Wizard Community, while across the Alter Sea to the east stood the Emporusia Republic.
With the Inporusia Mountains rising at its back like a fortress bestowed by nature itself, and with the bountiful seafood of the Alter Sea and the trade flowing in from the republic across the water, it was a nation of extraordinary wealth.
More than that — it was the heart of the Carpatia Empire of All Humanity.
When night fell, the streets would fill with the smell of fish brine. The traces of the sea's children hauled in by daylight lingered as thin rivulets of that briny scent, wandering the streets like restless ghosts.
Carpatia — the Carpatia Empire of All Humanity. A union of many nations, and at its center, the Grand Duchy of Carpatia. It was an exceedingly prosperous country, yet as was always the case, that prosperity had a way of enriching only those who already possessed it.
Wealthier than any other domain on the northern continent, the Grand Duchy of Carpatia — and at its very heart, the bustling city of Carpatia itself.
Luminescent stones the size of a grown man's torso had been planted here and there, flaunting their owners' wealth, and before a palace bright as broad daylight stood a single mansion.
The old, stately house looked almost austere at first glance. The black iron fence barring visitors from the front gate stretched so far that glancing left and right, one couldn't see where it ended; the garden spread wide enough that the mansion itself seemed distant from the entrance — a sight that overwhelmed anyone who beheld it.
On this deep, dark night, candlelight burned at the center of the mansion's third floor.
"Yes, yes... Alevian. Soon you'll be able to see the child you tried so desperately to hide."
A white-haired woman tilted her wineglass, gazing out over the utterly darkened streets through curtains drawn just slightly apart. The deep red wine slid slowly down, wetting her lips, brushing across her tongue, and slipping down her throat.
"I'm so happy. So very happy."
The woman set down her glass. Wrapping her own body in her arms, she shuddered. Her narrowed eyes — narrowed so thin they almost seemed to be smiling — remained fixed on the window.
"What kind of child will it be? What kind of personality? What kind of face? What sort of voice... Alevian, I can hardly wait to see what form the jewel you held in your hands will take. It makes me shiver."
The woman, dressed head to toe in a pure white gown, trembled once more.
"It's all right. Yes... I have a great deal of patience. I can wait as long as it takes. Yes. As long as it takes."
The glass tilted to reveal its bottom. Though the red wine was long gone, the woman went on licking the empty glass.
"Isn't this kin-slaying?"
"Wild orcs and civilized orcs are different things."
James pulled the arrow embedded in the wild orc's forehead and answered Yona. "Humans kill each other all the time. What's so special about orcs killing orcs?"
He makes a good point.
Yona decided James was smarter than he looked.
A full week had already passed since they left the village. James, being a superb archer and an equally superb pathfinder, made their march faster and less exhausting — following his lead, they moved with remarkable efficiency.
"Strange, though. Feels like the monsters have gotten thicker."
Shaking the blood from his axe, Kayak scanned their surroundings. Wild orcs and feral goblins were, to be fair, common enough — but this was already the umpteenth encounter they'd had. It wasn't that the encounters themselves were strange; it was the sheer frequency of them that was strange.
This has the smell of a bad encounter rate, doesn't it.
Yona thought this as she healed the scrape on Alec's thigh. It was a gaming term, granted — that thing where you wander around and run into monsters. And hadn't she spent three years rolling around as an adventurer herself? Noticing that something was off about their current situation was well within her abilities.
"So where are we now?"
At Yona's question, Kayak unfolded the map once more. He peered at it, let out a pained groan, and passed it to James. "You just keep hold of it, James. That'd be better for everyone."
"Good thinking."
James took the map, studied it, then lifted his head and looked around again. One might think it'd be hard to pinpoint their location on a map when all that surrounded them was mountains and plains — but before long, James pressed a finger to one corner of it. "Should be around here."
"...Move your finger, would you?"
Those thick beastkin fingers, characteristic of orcs and their kin, made it impossible to see what he was pointing at. At Alec's remark, James grinned amicably, shifted his finger aside, and traced the spot with his thumbnail instead. "Just above the border of the Marea Republic. We head straight up from here — north — and we should reach the border of the Grand Duchy of Carpatia."
"Then that means this area should, at the very least, have people living in it, right?"
"Aye. And for what it's worth, I'd say a village comes into view soon enough."
Those words were very welcome to Yona.
It had been a week since they left James's village, and in all that time the adventurers had camped out every single night. Camping itself was fine — it was the bizarre frequency of monster encounters that was the problem. She kept waking to ambushes mid-sleep, and real, deep sleep had become a luxury. Fall asleep — ambushed. Move camp, fall asleep again — ambushed. She could feel herself wearing down, and it was unmistakable.
"Lucky you, Yona. With a village, you'll finally get a proper rest."
"You say that as if you're not tired yourself. Huh? Are you picking a fight?"
Alec chuckled at her retort. Not that the words were wrong — exhaustion was plainly written across Yona's face. Which made it all the more endearing, he thought, that she believed she was hiding it.
"In any case, let's move quickly. Sleeping in a village tonight sounds lovely, doesn't it?"
At Kayak's urging, Yona mimed punching a potato into Alec's hand and spun around briskly. Beneath her nun's habit, the pale curve of her thigh flashed into view, and the hunting knife hanging there glinted for an instant. Alec was in a good mood.
"There's no village."
They had been crossing open plains, so James the archer had taken point. Yet even as they reached the far edge of that plain, no village showed itself. James studied the map again — nothing. Where a village absolutely should have been, there was nothing at all.
"You didn't misread the map, did you, James?"
"How could I have? I may have taken a break from the adventuring life, but my skills haven't rusted. I'd wager my map-reading beats your axe-work, friend."
"Now that's funny. Funnier than the notion of a wild orc reading letters."
"Not funny at all."
Yona could barely stomach the two of them cracking jokes even in a situation like this. The moment irritation began blooming across her face, Alec hurried forward and clapped Kayak and James on the backs. "Now, now — so what's the plan for tonight, then? No village means another night camping, I suppose. But I'm feeling rather grimy myself, so a bath wouldn't be the worst idea. What do you all think?"
"Hmm. A bath, eh."
"That sounds fine to me. There's a river right over there."
Where James pointed, a river flowed with reasonably clear water. Not large, but the flow was more than sufficient. Adventurers might live rough, but they didn't neglect hygiene entirely. Cleanliness was a matter of survival in its own right — distinct from wounds, but no less deadly to ignore — so they bathed whenever the chance offered itself.
"Not a bad idea. We can wash our clothes while we're at it."
Kayak stroked his chin and nodded. "But what about you, Yona?"
"...What about me?"
When Kayak turned to look at her, Alec's and James's gazes swung to Yona as well. "We're all taking a bath. What will you do?"
"I'm bathing too, obviously?"
"Excuse me?"
Kayak barked out a laugh. "Well. Can't say I'm surprised."
Alec, Kayak, and James stripped to their smallclothes and waded into the river to wash. So caked with grime were they that even in this cold water, the dirt rolled off in streaks when scrubbed by hand.
"This is how you bathe?"
Yona stood in the water fully clothed in her nun's habit. She hadn't even unwound the Holy Shroud. Alec — who had harbored expectations. Very, very slight ones, admittedly — turned to her bearing a disappointment wildly out of proportion to those very slight expectations, and asked, "This is enough for me."
"Bathing fully dressed and calling it enough..."
"Hey, Alec."
Cutting through the current, Yona came up to him. She scooped a double handful of water and poured it in a trickle over his head, then began patting his scalp with a mischievous look. "I know perfectly well what kind of expectations you were nursing. Yes, I'm aware I was a man — but even so, I'm not thoughtless enough to go flaunting this female body around like it's nothing."
"...I didn't have expectations."
Which would have been a lie, of course.
"Aigoo, you bald little creep, you're so gloomy about it. Fine, then — use your Breast Kneading Voucher. I'll let you redeem it right now if you want."
Soaked to the bone in her nun's habit, Yona hefted her own breasts and gave them a proud little bounce. Alec barely managed to tear his eyes away from her chest, which — impossibly — seemed firm enough to make a proper thudding sound.
"...Don't."
"Don't what? Hm? Don't do what, exactly?"
"...Sorry to butt in at a moment like this, but what in the world is a Breast Kneading Voucher?"
Kayak had quietly cut in. And behind him, James was watching with an expression of great interest. "Well, you see, Alec here took a near-fatal hit a while back, and I promised that if he survived, he could knead my breasts. And he survived."
"Hey — hey, hey! Why are you telling them that?!"
Alec lunged to stop her, but Kayak restrained him with leisurely ease, wrapping his arms around his waist from behind. Alec squirmed, but couldn't break free. "So I presented them to him, told him to knead away — and he didn't even do it. Said he'd save it for next time. That's why I've been hanging onto it all this while."
The expressions on Kayak's and James's faces upon hearing the whole story were truly a sight to behold. Exasperation and worry — two emotions that should scarcely be able to coexist — crossed their features as they stared at Alec.
"Er — hey. Alec, has your head gone red? You look just like a boiled octopus."
What's with the octopus comparisons today...
Alec wished for one thing only: for this moment, this very instant, to end.