Bear Territory (1)
Fire raged. A massive blaze roared. Within the great fire devouring the building, allied soldiers with broken limbs screamed in agony.
"..." Jordy stared quietly at the scene with half-dead eyes. His appearance had changed drastically after being tormented in every imaginable way by his own soldiers—a consequence of him getting high on drugs while on night watch.
The gash on his cheek was from when his face had been trampled. His shoulder, struck in some wrong spot during a beating, throbbed relentlessly. Exhaustion had hollowed out his eyes, and his once-plump cheeks had sunken completely.
Dark, heavy circles hung beneath his eyes—the result of being violently shaken awake in the middle of the night or the chronic insomnia brought on by the sheer stress of the abuse. His once-immaculate, clean-shaven face was gone, replaced by a thick, unkempt beard covering his entire jawline.
"Phew..." The men burning inside were the very soldiers who had led his torment. Watching them burn, Jordy placed a cigar-like roll of dried narcotic herbs between his lips. He pulled out a box of matches plundered from an enemy soldier and struck one.
"Phew..." Savoring the drug in silence, Jordy looked back at the knights lined up behind him—the ones his father, the King, had assigned to him. If they had wanted to protect him, they easily could have. But they hadn't.
In their eyes, the abuse Jordy suffered was entirely his own fault for getting high and falling asleep on watch. Besides, they had deemed the hazing to be 'not quite life-threatening.'
Shoddy orders. Shoddy handling. It was hard to believe this was the treatment and command given to the prince of a nation. In fact, this treatment of the prince had already begun sowing seeds of discontent and distrust toward the King back in the kingdom.
Has the King gone senile? Or is he just mad? He should be preserving the royal bloodline just in case, so what on earth is he thinking?
In times of chaos, one must first win the hearts of the people—especially the nobility, who provided vital supplies and manpower. But what if they believed the King was fatally compromised? What if they decided he was no longer worth following? Traitors would inevitably emerge.
The Duke's charisma was by no means inferior to the King's. While some nobles in the royal army remained blindly loyal, looking only at the crown on the King's head, others were constantly weighing their options between the Duke and the King, ready to defect at a moment's notice. Even the loyalists found their allegiance wavering at the King's erratic behavior.
"We are returning to the capital."
"Your Highness, that is..."
"I said we are returning. Do you dare talk back to me?"
Jordy glared at the knight who had tried to speak. Left helpless by the knights in a seemingly endless cycle of torment, Jordy had spent his time sharpening his blade. He had shaved away the mental fat accumulated from a lifetime of luxury, honing his mind into a lethal weapon.
Crude and unrefined, yet sharp and deadly. He had warped into something twisted—a creature that would drag down anyone who dared touch him.
The knights, who had watched Jordy slip away under the cover of war to ambush and burn the soldiers who tormented him, finally realized it. Jordy was broken. At the very least, he could never be the ruler the King had envisioned. At best, he would be a tyrant. At worst, a foolish king.
Twisted and warped, he would drag the people, the nobility, and even the King himself down into the abyss.
When they were exiled to the Floating Island, Chester had predicted it. The King had made a fatal mistake, the Duke would seize the opportunity to rise up, and the King would eventually regret his choices. The King would regret, and the kingdom would fall into ruin.
Chester's prediction had come true. The Duke had risen. A coup d'état had erupted because of the King's choice. The King was full of regret, and his kingdom was burning.
And now, the aging King, losing his wits, had made yet another mistake. No matter how desperate the situation, the heir who should have been carefully and preciously nurtured to secure the nation's future was now utterly broken.
"I will say it once more. We are returning to the capital."
He would regret his choices.
"My father, once honorable, wise, and great, has broken with age."
And the kingdom would once again pay the price.
"If left alone, he will ruin this country, and I have no intention of standing by and watching."
Meanwhile, the Duke would march forward, trampling the burning kingdom underfoot.
"In place of my broken father, I shall become King."
As the first step toward that goal...
"Send word to your families. Tell them I have decided to succeed the throne, and they must support and aid me."
Jordy smiled thinly at the knights, who were still hesitating on how to act.
"To the loyal houses that help me set the kingdom right, I shall bestow grand rewards."
Behind the smiling Jordy, the building continued to burn in a magnificent, roaring blaze.
Waking up early as usual, Chester stared blankly at the ceiling before turning his head at a sudden weight pressing against him. Monia was sleeping soundly, clinging tightly to his side.
"..." Last night, they had thrown a grand party to celebrate Monia's successful coming-of-age ceremony, and they had let loose completely. With only memories of dancing and singing wildly, he couldn't even remember when he had fallen asleep.
The hazy memories felt exactly like the morning after a heavy night of drinking. Frowning as he tried to sit up, Chester felt another weight on his stomach and looked down. There lay Ant, curled up in a tight ball, fast asleep.
Why are both of them sleeping like this, stuck to me?
"Phew." Letting out a soft sigh, Chester untangled Monia's limbs from around him, gently lifted the sleeping Ant, and carefully placed him on Monia's stomach.
"Mmmgh..." Monia frowned as Ant settled onto her firm, slender stomach, where faint lines of defined abs were starting to show. Chester chuckled at the sight and poked his head out the window.
...At least we put out the bonfire properly. The log fire that had blazed so merrily last night was now completely extinguished, buried under a layer of dirt.
Scratching his head, Chester climbed down from the treehouse, loosened up his body with his usual stretches and light exercise, and then headed back up.
When he returned, Monia, who had woken up while he was exercising, was busy preparing breakfast. She was simmering meat and vegetables in a shallow, broth-filled clay plate, while roasting dough made of wild grain flour along the dry outer rim.
Using the grain flour she had prepared and stored beforehand, she tore off small pieces of dough, flattening them into round discs to roast.
"What's this?"
"Oh, I'm trying to make something like dumplings. You make these round wrappers and put the filling inside."
"Hmm. Oh, you didn't season the meat at all?"
"Yes. Ant likes his plain... so I set these aside instead."
Monia showed him some finely chopped wild chilies, ground pepper, salt, and various aromatic herbs. Then, picking up a fully roasted piece of flatbread, she pressed it over a piece of meat, squeezing it to scoop the meat up.
Fipping the bread over so the meat rested on top, she sprinkled it with salt, pepper, and chili before taking a bite.
"How is it?"
"Not bad." Chester took some of the dough Monia had prepared and began shaping and roasting his own.
"Go ahead and eat first."
"Okay." Monia began her meal, sharing some meat with Ant, while Chester ate in between shaping and roasting the flatbreads.
"Yesterday was so much fun."
"Was it?"
"Yes. It was my first time shouting and singing like that, and my first time dancing so wildly."
"You liked it?"
"I did!"
"I'm glad." They chatted about last night's party as they ate.
"Oh, by the way, Ant ate all the honey."
"Really?"
"Do animals eat honey too?"
"I've seen bears eat honey."
"Huh..." At Chester's words, Monia looked at Ant. Having devoured his meat, Ant was staring at her with pleading eyes, begging for more. Monia gave him a slightly petulant look.
That was the honey Chester gave to me! Even if it was Ant, she wasn't about to let her honey go without a fight.
"Alright, all done roasting." With the flatbreads finished, they dug in properly, and Chester, Monia, and Ant soon finished a highly satisfying meal.
After breakfast, they completed their daily routine of checking the river and the trap zones. By lunchtime, they roasted some simple food over the fire while focusing their efforts on crafting Chili Powder Bombs.
To prevent the chili powder from blowing away in the wind, they set up stones to form a protective wall around a flat stone slab, where they ground the dried chilies into a fine powder. They then filled hemispherical clay shells with the powder and sealed them together.
Since the process was simple and they only had a few clay shells to work with, most of their time was spent grinding the chilies and waiting for the wet clay sealing the seams to dry.
In the end, they managed to make five Chili Powder Bombs in total. Chester, possessing superior throwing accuracy, took three, but for safety's sake, he handed the remaining two to Monia.
"Alright, let's go."
"...Okay." Monia's expression stiffened at his words. The Chili Powder Bombs were complete. That meant, from this moment on, they were heading there.
A place they had never once set foot in since arriving on the Floating Island, despite its proximity to their home. To the Bear Territory.