VII. The Monster of Spitzenberg (2)
VII. The Monster of Spitzenberg (2)
"Huff! Huff!"
Keldric exercised as soon as he woke, as usual. Sweat poured from him while Arno, exercising beside him, quickly collapsed from exhaustion.
"Huff! Haaah...!"
"Your form is wrong. Keep your elbows fixed."
"S-Sir Keldric, this is too much..."
"If you intend to fight, you must train your body first."
He was teaching Arno how to fight.
Keldric did not believe he was skilled enough to teach someone properly, but he could at least help Arno learn enough to stay alive.
Arno had a broad frame and sturdy bones, giving him good prospects. He probably would have managed well enough as a mercenary.
That would not have been a happy life. From the mercenaries Keldric had met, he knew how harsh it could be.
Mercenaries were despised, and their lives were filled with far too many situations that began with “somehow.”
Somehow they raided a village, somehow they drank and whored in a brothel, somehow they became bandits and were hunted down...
At Keldric’s side, Arno only needed enough skill to protect himself.
The world was vast and full of different people, along with countless trials and vicious enemies.
Keldric would face many of them. Arno, who would accompany him, needed at least the bare minimum of combat training.
"Take a short break."
Arno collapsed facedown, utterly exhausted, his shoulders and chest heaving.
"Don’t lie down. Stand and rest. Lying down immediately isn’t good for you."
"Y-Yes...!"
Having time in Spitzenberg was useful. Since taking on attendants, Keldric had wanted an opportunity to train Arno.
That did not mean the delay was entirely welcome.
"The reply is taking too long."
"Pardon?"
"It's nothing."
Keldric looked toward the inner castle with concern. Baron Spitzenberg’s answer was taking longer than expected.
Since arriving, Keldric had passed the time sightseeing and visiting workshops and smithies in search of armor.
Two days had passed that way, and Keldric was beginning to question the baron’s intentions.
'Is this really a matter that requires so much deliberation?'
Perhaps Keldric only thought that because he did not understand noble politics.
He had heard the baron was torn between Counts Bogenberg and Rasau, so the man was probably gathering his vassals’ opinions.
That would explain two days of silence. What Keldric did not understand was whether the dispute was truly complicated enough to require it.
If the baron wanted no part in the conflict, he could simply declare neutrality.
Whether Count Rasau, who openly sent bandit mercenaries into another lord’s territory, would accept that neutrality was another matter.
A sane noble did not invade another man’s lands without a proper justification.
But Baron Spitzenberg remained caught between the two sides, while Keldric had to deliver his answer before Lent ended.
From the baron’s perspective, both factions offered advantages and disadvantages.
Joining Count Rasau would bring imperial backing and allow him to tighten the noose around the Barony of Yaven.
Joining Count Bogenberg would help preserve Yaven and place him on the side that held more votes among the electors.
Either choice could benefit Spitzenberg.
Neither count would have been foolish enough to offer Baron Spitzenberg nothing in return.
Possible concessions included rights to part of Bogenberg’s silver mines or certain tax revenues from Rasau. There were plenty of offers difficult to weigh against one another.
None of them were matters Keldric could help decide.
Keldric hated sitting idle. Partly he was restless, but he also knew that standing still meant falling behind.
He could search Spitzenberg for information or find a diviner to interpret his dream...
Training Arno was another useful task. Keldric had to do something; action was how he proved his worth as a knight.
After training, he ate quickly and went into the city. There was little to do at the castle besides exercise or sightsee.
The Iron Claw Mercenary Company stayed at a separate inn. With no work to do, they were probably drinking with the money Count Bogenberg had given them.
"Let’s go to the workshop."
Keldric headed to a leatherworker’s shop. He had commissioned a cloak from the wolf pelt Baron Spitzenberg gave him.
The pelt had already been properly tanned, so the cloak was finished quickly.
Keldric rode Boreas slowly through the stone-lined streets while carefully watching his surroundings.
He remained wary of the suspicious figure he had seen several days earlier.
The Empire was chaotic, and people who had completely lost their minds often wandered freely. Keldric had reason to be cautious of them.
His brow twitched. The strange dream already left him unsettled, and now several other things were grating on him.
"Sir Keldric?"
"No, it’s nothing."
Leaving Alisa’s questioning gaze behind, Keldric continued onward on Boreas.
Lent would end soon.
If Baron Spitzenberg did not give him a clear answer within two or three more days, Keldric was prepared to deliver the “clear message” Count Bogenberg had authorized.
That would settle the matter quickly and let him return, so there was no reason to remain on edge.
Several hours passed as he collected the handsome wolf-pelt cloak, browsed armor, and marked a few pieces he liked.
"Aaaah—!"
"It's a monster!"
Late that evening, a scream and loud commotion erupted near the inner castle.
☩ ☩ ☩ ☩ ☩ ☩ ☩
The word “monster” was especially unwelcome at that moment.
This was, after all, a world where creatures truly deserving the name existed.
They were collectively classified as monstrous beasts and differed from ordinary animals, but they still ate and occupied places in the ecosystem.
Some monstrous beasts devoured humans without hesitation, while others toyed with them and killed them for amusement.
"It's a monster again."
"Is this the seventh time now?"
"It's the eighth. It's completely sickening."
Keldric listened to the townsfolk murmuring among themselves.
Another monster. The eighth victim.
That meant such incidents had become common recently. Keldric frowned as he approached the source of the scream.
'That stench...'
Alisa, sensitive to smells, already had her nose clamped shut. Tears filled her eyes as she struggled to speak through her blocked nose.
"The smell is horrible. What happened here...?"
"We’ll have to see."
A crowd had already gathered around the source of the commotion.
Most of them were pinching their noses and grimacing like Alisa. The sour stench worsened as Keldric drew closer.
Arno and Helga, who had followed them, looked equally miserable.
Everyone covered their noses. Even Keldric wrapped a cheap cloth over his mouth and nose, but the stench penetrated it.
"Horrible."
"How could this happen...? God above!"
"Make way! Everyone, make way!"
Arno took the lead in his role as an attendant. The townsfolk looked confused until they saw Keldric behind him, then hurriedly opened a path.
The crowd split apart so dramatically that it drew unnecessary attention. Keldric tapped Arno’s shoulder twice with an awkward expression.
"...Well done."
"I-It was nothing."
He could hardly scold an attendant for trying to elevate his master.
Keldric walked through the opening and soon reached the source of the stench.
"What in the..."
It was a corpse, apparently that of a young woman. Her long, tangled hair was almost the only clue.
The body was horribly mutilated. The abdomen had been torn open as though someone had dug through it, exposing the organs, several of which were missing.
The torso was nearly torn in two and drenched in blood. An unknown yellow, sticky liquid covered the opened abdomen and chest.
That was the source of the stench. Keldric bent closer, recoiled at the overpowering smell, and stepped back half a pace.
"This is..."
"This is horrible. What kind of madman did this?"
Alisa was right. No sane person could have done this with a clear mind.
The woman had clearly not killed herself. Someone had murdered her.
Whether the killer was human or a monstrous beast was harder to tell. Keldric wondered whether one of the wolves common to the region might have done it.
If so, then how in the world?
A wolf could hardly have leaped over Spitzenberg’s walls. Keldric could make no sense of it.
He had no talent for detective work, so Keldric withdrew from the murdered woman’s body with a deep frown.
"I am Keldric of House Bellaf, here by order of Johann von Bogenberg, rightful lord of Bogenberg! Everyone, stand back!"
The frightened townsfolk hurried back, forming a wide circle around the corpse.
Soldiers arrived late and stared at the body with pale faces.
Among them was the gate guard who had taken Keldric’s weapons. Keldric approached the familiar man.
"You there. What on earth is going on?"
"Ah, Sir Keldric. Well, that is..."
The guard hesitated with a disturbed expression. It was not that he disliked speaking with Keldric; the matter was apparently sensitive.
"Has someone gone to inform Baron Spitzenberg?"
"Yes. We sent someone just a moment ago."
"Then that is enough. I’ll keep the area under control until Baron Spitzenberg gives orders. I trust you understand."
"Understood."
The murder was Baron Spitzenberg’s responsibility as lord of the territory, not Keldric’s.
Even with Count Bogenberg behind him, Keldric was merely a visiting knight with little connection to local affairs.
But for a knight to see a person murdered for unknown reasons and simply look away would have been dishonorable.
So Keldric took only the minimum necessary measures.
He kept people away from the body, calmed the frightened crowd, and sent as many as possible back to their work.
"Fucking hell! That damned monster again?!"
"My lord!"
Before long, an unexpectedly furious Baron Spitzenberg arrived in person, shouting vulgar curses.
Keldric stepped several paces away from the corpse with an awkward expression. Whatever else was uncertain, one thing was clear.
A monster lived in Spitzenberg—and it killed people with extraordinary brutality.