Gray Winter (3)
January 1st. The sun rising over the canyon blazed red as always. The only difference from any other day was the throng of people crowding the top of Gate 1 in the Gibraltar Canyon.
"Ahh, look over there. The sun rising in the east."
"It's just like..."
The sun rises in the east and sets in the west. This truth never changes, and though it rises every day, the time and place where one witnesses it can sometimes feel profoundly special.
"Unified Calendar Year 97—a historic moment if there ever was one."
Atop the gate, people gathered before magitech recording devices, sharing their stories and celebrations.
"Sunrise over the Gibraltar Canyon! Who could've predicted this just a year ago? That we'd be watching the dawn from right here on this gate!"
Countless from the Empire had shed blood to conquer the canyon and its gates.
"I heard my great-grandfather fell here in Gibraltar. If he were alive today, I wonder what he'd say. Haha..."
Yet in the end, it wasn't war that opened the gates and allowed feet to tread these battlements—it was peace.
"Those war-mad fools whine that they couldn't conquer it. Nonsense. We're at peace with the kingdom now. We can just live quietly in a world without war."
Those who had come to the canyon clasped their hands toward the golden sun rising beyond the horizon in the east, offering prayers.
"May peace endure across the continent."
Gibraltar Margrave Territory, old Gibraltar Castle.
"Wooooh—!!"
Afternoon. A boy's cheer echoed across the training grounds.
"Finally, finally!"
Noir, the black-haired youth, brandished a single sheet of paper in his hand, letting out a triumphant shout.
"Guys! I can finally go!"
Noir waved wildly at the twelve knight trainees around him, all built much like himself.
"Congratulations from the bottom of our hearts, young master!"
"You aced every Imperial language exam with perfect scores—you're sure to enter as top of the class!"
"Orosol Academy... Ugh, we wish we could go serve you there too...!"
Their training uniforms were soaked with sweat, but the copper epaulets on their shoulders bore the clear Gibraltar crest.
"Really? Should I ask Father to let you all come? You're all Beginner Knights already."
Though under twenty, they were knight candidates who already held Beginner Knight qualifications.
"Who knows? Once you're at the academy, some houses might try to snag you as sons-in-law."
Not yet of age for formal knighting, other noble families would salivate at their skills if they knew.
"Don't say that, sir. I've served at your side for nearly seven years by the calendar. You want me to up and leave for some other girl now?"
"Exactly! Sure, I only joined the orphanage four years ago as the latest arrival, but do you know how hard I've worked to become your knight?"
"Sheesh. Can't even joke around with you lot."
Noir blew his nose at his pleading knight candidates, struggling to stifle his laughter.
"Alright! When I head to the capital, I'll set you up with some ladies who suit you."
"Ooooh!!"
"Noir! Noir! Noir!"
"Praise him! Worship him! Black light of Gibraltar!"
Clap clap clap. As the knights applauded and cheered, Noir scratched his head and waved his perfect-score exam paper.
"Once I take the real test, top enrollment's in the bag, right? Then I'll hold top spot all semester and graduate as valedictorian! Just like Father!"
Noir clenched his fist and thrust it toward the sky.
"I may not be a Master yet, but I've got three years till graduation! At the ceremony, as student representative, if I become a Master, even Father will...!"
Noir caught his breath for a moment.
"Even big brother will acknowledge me!"
He thrust his fist skyward once more, steeling his resolve.
"The man who graduates Orosol Academy top of his class and becomes a Master at seventeen! I'll prove age is just a number!"
"Ooh! That's our Noir, young master!"
"We admire you, sir! You're the next Gibraltar... Ahem."
"Ahem. To say that, you'd better show the talent for it at least."
Noir nodded along with his knight candidates' words.
"Alright! But today, we celebrate! I'll go ask Father, so everyone, follow me to the canyon!"
"To the canyon, sir?"
"Yeah! Disguise ourselves, and no one'll notice!"
"Uh, um, understood. Then..."
"Be right back!"
Noir dashed toward the mansion. The knight candidates kept calling his name, waving frantically.
"Captain."
"Yeah."
Suddenly, they froze and gathered in a circle.
"What do we do?"
"No issue. We can handle this ourselves."
"What if young master suddenly decides to defect to the Empire?"
"One of us bashes his head in to stop him. I'll do it."
The oldest, the only one with a silver epaulet, chopped the air with his hand.
"We can only hope the margrave cuts it off at the pass."
"If the margrave allows it..."
"If he doesn't assign knights, that's his mission to us. To see if we're worthy to serve young master."
"Won't the guard knights tail him secretly? Like Sir Carlos."
"Definitely. But if they're out of sight, he's testing us with Sir Carlos while we watch."
The knight candidates quickly exchanged views.
"Keep an eye on his path so he doesn't get distracted by Empire girls. And remind him constantly about 'Gibraltar's fate.' What happened to the Gibraltar who misused his body before adulthood."
"Yes. He's serious about it, so he probably won't want that anyway."
"Right. If he truly wants to be margrave..."
The candidates exchanged glances and shivered.
"...Who knows how he would judge it."
"Shouldn't we report it anyway?"
"If he says he's heading to the canyon outlet for fun when he returns, report immediately. Wait a sec."
The candidate captain pulled a stack of papers from his inner pocket, took one, and began scribbling with a portable quill pen.
Black shadow to white rabbit. The crow...
"...planning an outing to the canyon. Will ensure he doesn't cross beyond Gate 2 into Empire territory."
Scratch, scratch.
"Yes, young master! Coming!!"
The paper was swiftly folded into a tight knot, and the knight candidates left the training grounds to join the elated Noir.
"........."
A white-haired maid approached the knotted paper, picked it up.
"...Ha."
She unfolded it and openly grimaced.
"Not a crow—a horny cat who thinks he's a black panther...?"
The maid tilted her head repeatedly, then hurried away.
What had lately made Gibraltar the most abuzz?
Noir Gibraltar heading to the academy?
Sir Mente formally recognized as a Blade Master?
Civilian trade, once limited to inside the canyon, now officially 'border opening'?
The canyon gates open, Empire citizens permitted—very restrictively—to visit parts of Gibraltar territory?
"So this is beyond Gate 3, Gibraltar land!"
Unified Calendar Year 97, January. After rigorous entry permits and luggage checks, they crossed the gate onto Nostrum soil.
"Not even a few km away, but it feels so far."
"And it's the countryside."
Empire citizens on Nostrum's Gibraltar land voiced their disappointments.
"Seirene Viscountcy at least had sights to see. This is just 'I stepped on the soil' territory."
The burly bald man grumbled.
"Shh. Still, don't stray from the area. Past Lift, it's instant detention and execution."
The short, bespectacled man lowered his voice in warning.
"Spy charges, right? Who'd be dumb enough?"
Gibraltar had opened the canyon gates but barred Empire folk from the 'inner keep.' Instead, they'd built a small town along the existing road between Gibraltar proper and the canyon.
"This must be Lift Territory!"
"Mente Lift. Gibraltar's Blade Master. They gave her this land, letting Empire visitors sightsee only up to here."
Lift, the free-trade outpost town midway between Gibraltar Castle and the canyon.
"Man, I could really retire here."
"Get real. What would you do in a backwater like this?"
"Better than the capital stinking of human sweat and magitech oil."
"Good for a vacation, but live here? The flaws would pile up."
Though confined to a limited zone, Empire visitors felt it immediately upon crossing: the kingdom's nature was pristinely clean, beyond expectations.
"Seriously, this place is pure and good."
Unlike the Empire, ravaged by reckless development, war-torn forests, and polluted waters, the kingdom was immaculate.
"Even the people's hair."
"Yeah. Sigh. But still no luck..."
"Haah. Another bust..."
"Food's here."
A sturdy youth in a gray apron brought their meals, setting them down.
"Hey, excuse me. Mind if I ask something?"
"Me?"
The gray-aproned server, heading to the kitchen, turned back to the table.
"Yeah. You're free now—no customers."
"Not no customers, just you folks came during off-hours..."
It was 3 p.m.
"Ah, no break time either, huh."
"Break time... Oh, rest time. We don't really have one."
"Here, take this. Yeah?"
The bald man pulled out a slim wallet, placing a bill on the table.
"Think of it as a tip. Yeah?"
"Tip... Ah, like a gift for servers? Thanks, but..."
The gray-aproned youth glanced toward the kitchen, pocketed the 1-thaler note.
"This buys maybe a minute of chat."
Invisible from the kitchen, he subtly rubbed his fingers under the table.
"Heh, kid. You ever worked an outlet?"
"Friend works Morgania outlet. Makes good bonuses off Empire customers, so I came here to Lift."
"Tch. Shame. Can't be helped—we've got standards."
The bald man drew five 10-thaler notes from his wallet, thumping the table.
"Sit."
"Ah, this is awkward..."
The gray-aproned server tilted his head, pocketed the fifty thalers, and pulled up a chair.
"What's got you so curious?"
"Grey Gibraltar."
"........."
At the bespectacled man's word, the youth awkwardly scratched his cheek.
"Uh, um..."
"Know him? Gibraltar's young master."
"These days, that'd make folks think Noir Gibraltar first."
The gray-aproned youth lowered his voice slowly.
"Don't spread this around. Everyone in Gibraltar thinks Noir Gibraltar will be the next margrave."
"Really?"
"Yeah. Only Sword Masters can be margrave, right? If Grey had any talent, the margrave would've trained him personally ages ago."
"I don't think so."
The bald man sipped his coffee, shaking his head.
"My take? Grey Gibraltar's the type who excels on his own, so they left him be."
"What? So Noir needs hands-on training, hence the sword lessons?"
"Trains over ten hours a day in the grounds, right? Start harsh young, and he'd be a Master. Right, kid?"
"Haha... Yeah, some say Noir's heading to the academy to get a three-year break from the margrave's brutal training."
"See? Grey's secretly training somewhere on the sly."
"Really...? Why...?"
The gray-aproned youth tilted his head repeatedly, baffled.
"He's just freeloading, badmouthing his siblings..."
"That's the act, the smokescreen. Ever hear of Crown Prince Hapsburg von Tersian?"
"Somewhat..."
"He pulled the exact same as a kid. Say that in the Empire, it's blasphemy."
"Genius playing dumbass. Fooled all his siblings, snagged the crown."
"........."
The gray-aproned youth just smiled faintly.
"If Grey's useful for anything, it's that one thing."
"That?"
"Gibraltar blood. Marriage alliance fodder."
"The crown prince marrying off his daughter?"
"Come on. You're saying he hides power, then deny the one real use?"
"Hmm... Fair. Heard he's pretty handsome."
"Perfect match. Heh. Symbol of peace! Canyon heir weds Empire princess. Slick move."
"Good dad, good looks—that's talent."
The youth stood.
"Where you folks from? Merchants? Mind if I take your cards?"
"Huh? Why...?"
"Lift Baron—Mente—comes for late-night snacks sometimes. Could introduce you...? And maybe a bit more."
He rubbed his fingers again. The bespectacled man pulled a 100-thaler note from his wallet.
"Spill the details."
"If anyone's in this land who sees Grey Gibraltar positively, it's Baron Mente Lift."
"Why?"
"His mentor, but she pities him terribly."
"Hmm... Then till dinner tonight..."
"No telling when. She comes on whims."
"Right? So..."
The two men placed slim, rectangular cards on the table.
"......Thanks. Business cards, huh."
The youth tucked them into his apron pocket.
"I'll keep 'em safe. Oh, about Grey Gibraltar..."
At length. Until the two finished eating, the youth's words never stopped.