Chapter 60
Chapter 60
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 60
Chapter Title: We Are Drifters
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*
“My guests and I have traveled a long way. Moria. What is the meaning of this rudeness?”
Prince Helrga narrowed his eyes sharply. Moria paid him no mind and instead gazed at Fernandez. A knight she had never seen before. Just as was typical with those Prince Helrga and Baiernier had recruited from outside, he was unlikely to be the scion of a prestigious house.
“Forgive my rudeness, brother dear. If I, as the palace minister, allow foreigners into the palace without even verifying their identities, wouldn’t that be neglecting my duties?”
“Since when have you cared so much about your position?”
“Oh? Even with you away so often, I’ve been shouldering all the responsibilities as a member of the royal family on my own, and here you are saying such hurtful things?”
Moria matched her pace to Prince Helrga’s as he headed toward the castle, ignoring her and smiling brightly. Fernandez smiled faintly at the sight of her. In the brief time while Helrga and Moria spoke, he had read the traces of black magic lingering on her.
‘Impressive. Seems she has a good teacher.’
-The Buried Church’s main focus is necromancy...
‘Mental school. Mentalists aren’t that common, so it stands out.’
Gian-Kel’s mystic sight was an extraordinarily powerful relic. In terms of analysis and tracking, it was hard to find another artifact of the same rank. Even in his clash with Gian-Kel, he had been the only one to notice Feizashi’s presence.
Even borrowing the power of such a relic, the lingering aura of black magic that Moria had concealed was hidden with extreme subtlety. It surpassed what a young woman who appeared barely twenty could achieve.
“So, what is your name, stranger?”
“My apologies. Princess. Please call me Albert of Cerned. It’s an honor to meet you.”
“Pleased to meet you too. Are you the prince’s new attendant?”
Moria openly insulted Fernandez. A typical knight of his age, especially one from the countryside who had gained the honor of serving a prince, would surely react to such an affront. Moria intended to summon the guards immediately if this young knight lost his temper and committed some impropriety.
“Moria...!”
Prince Helrga’s expression darkened. At that moment, Fernandez spoke.
“His Highness has graciously invited me to the capital.”
“...Hm? Is that so?”
A glint appeared in Moria’s eyes. It was neither submission to royal authority nor the face of one suppressing anger. Fernandez replied in a casual tone with an attractive smile.
Nobles and knights, who revered martial prowess and honor, generally couldn’t maintain composure at this age. Moria soon laughed delightedly.
“Welcome, Sir Albert. I hope we meet again.”
“The honor is mine, Princess.”
Moria gave Prince Helrga a brief curtsy and departed without another word. Helrga ground his teeth as he watched her retreating figure, nearly as if he wanted to devour her.
“Shameful words. I hope you understand, Sir.”
“I do not cling to worldly honors, Your Highness. Please don’t concern yourself.”
Fernandez found the prince’s reaction amusing instead. Knights of the Eastern Kingdom Alliance often displayed excessive zeal for honor and glory. At times, they forgot that it was a tool to legitimize a sovereign’s rule and strengthen royal authority.
“Very well, where do you plan to stay? Shall I arrange quarters in the palace?”
“Please just prepare an audience with His Majesty. I need to visit the church.”
“The Avenue of Myriad Gods is at the north gate. My quarters are on Road 3 below the inner citadel. Come by whenever you need.”
Baiernier rode off with the prince. Fernandez gave the prince a brief farewell and turned his horse toward the north gate. Without looking back, he said,
“Kirhas. Head to the west gate and scout the alchemy workshops nearby. Don’t infiltrate directly—keep your distance. I’ll come at midnight.”
“Yes, Benefactor.”
At Fernandez’s words, Kirhas bowed her head and vanished into the alleys.
‘The princess’s index fingernail.’
Princess Moria’s index fingernail and fingertip were tinged a pale purple. It wasn’t from a bruise or wound. It was a symptom that appeared when handling certain special reagents.
‘Aragelmone...’
Or reagents made from aragelmone. The fact that the princess handled such a rare substance meant the alchemy workshops distributing it within the city were of considerable quality. And alchemy workshops were rarely inside the palace. Too much risk of reagent leaks.
According to the mystic sight’s information, the place with the most complex mana entanglement was near the west gate. He needed to investigate from that location.
*
Moria watched Prince Helrga heading to the palace from a distance. Her guard captain stood at attention in the gallery of the inner citadel. She slowly extended her arm.
-Whoosh.
A pigeon landed lightly on her snow-white arm. She hummed as she stroked its head.
“So, the place the prince visited this time was Baron Barbes’s territory?”
“Yes, Your Highness. The region where two knights of Paliamen went missing.”
“Tch, losing knights to mere Walker disturbances. Sir Paliamen isn’t what he used to be.”
Baron Barbes was one of the Round Table knights, a close aide to Paliamen. Paliamen losing knights to something as trivial as a Walker incident was laughable, but Baron Barbes’s failure to suppress the disturbance in his own territory had also drawn criticism.
The rumors had died down quickly thanks to the downfall of the Gaimern royal family that followed, but the damage to Paliamen’s reputation remained indelible.
“A blessing, isn’t it? The Round Table knights are just old men now.”
“Indeed. Relics of a bygone era. Toothless lions. Hehe, did the prince notice anything?”
“He might suspect, but what can he do?”
“Exactly. No matter what he tries, it’s too late to turn back now.”
Moria lightly shook her arm, sending the pigeon flying. She smiled pleasantly as she gazed at the small letter tied to its leg.
“You have work for me.”
“Command me.”
“Test this knight called Albert. His skills, beliefs, objectives—all of it. If the prince went out of his way to bring him along, there must be a reason.”
“May I kill him?”
“Cerned is just a backwater mountain barony, and he’s a wandering knight. What fuss would there be over a roadside death?”
If he died to a blind blade, it would just mean he was that insignificant. Even if not, it didn’t matter. Whatever the prince’s plans, who could stand in her way? Moria stood in the gallery overlooking the palace, facing the wind.
-Shwaaaa...
Behind her, the vast barley fields swayed in the breeze, producing a refreshing sound. The early spring fields were beautiful.
*
Abel’s expression grew darker by the minute. Even as they entered the Avenue of Myriad Gods, she said nothing.
“I can finally tell that time has passed.”
“You don’t like the city’s scenery?”
“It’s larger and more prosperous than when I flew over it. Back then, it was just a settlement surrounded by wooden palisades.”
Abel gazed at the well-paved roads and the stone buildings filling the city. The Altbert she remembered was close to a camp with thatched roofs, wooden structures, and rows of field tents.
This city had begun as a village founded by Knight King Dane himself after slaying the hill giant here. Abel remembered when the hill giant’s blood soaked these pastures.
It had been a harsh, barren age, but one filled with hope and honor. The people had been pure and simple. In this city of cold stone walls, Abel felt suffocated, as if buried alone in the shadows of the past.
The strange smell enveloping the city was the afterscent of hellish mana. Her draconic senses keenly felt the mana blanketing the city. Since entering, she hadn’t hidden her melancholy.
Then, Fernandez’s hand wrapped around her shoulder.
“The city I remember wasn’t like this either.”
“Oh? What was it like in your previous life?”
Gazing into Abel’s sad eyes, Fernandez felt a pang in his chest. He wasn’t used to comforting others, but he slowed his steps.
“That era, the Eastern Kingdom Alliance was on the brink of collapse. The eastern kingdoms had suffered such devastation they could never rise again.”
Famine and plague, corruption and war. The Dane Kingdom, barely recovering from the invasion era unleashed by the pitch-black Erik, had unified the many kingdoms destroyed in the early Great War and built a massive front line.
The Round Table knights led by Hero-King Vicente were the hope of the eastern kingdoms. Humans from uncorrupted eastern realms flocked to this city seeking hope.
“This city’s nickname was the Indomitable Hill. It was the purest land in the continental east. Whatever it looks like now, in the near future, it will be again.”
“Ah, Fernandez.”
Abel’s eyes curved softly. Her blue eyes shone clearly.
“We’re drifters, aren’t we? Cast out from our own times, come a long way.”
Fernandez didn’t reply. Drifters— she, swept into this era, could be called that. But himself? He couldn’t see himself as a drifter like her. Distant and faint though it was, he had a clear destination.
My son.
Fernandez inwardly repeated the words as he gazed at Beitasser’s church, now close. He stopped before the church’s grand entrance, emblazoned with the ornate key-sword emblem. He dismounted.
-Splash.
Puddle water between the cobblestones splashed at his feet. He stroked the neck of his whinnying horse.
I’ve returned alone to this era and press on.
You and I are sixty years apart, yet still.
He looked up at Abel atop the horse. Her dazzling golden hair, like an autumn wheat field in the midday sun, swayed in the wind. He extended his hand to her. Abel smiled, took his hand, and dismounted.
“Fortunately, you have a lighthouse.”
“I wish the same for you.”
“I already do.”
Abel smiled at Fernandez.
*
The king’s throne room lay at the end of the palace’s grandest hall. Sunlight poured through the windows between stone pillars, casting beautiful patterns on the floor.
Prince Helrga walked the hall slowly, feeling an ever-growing suffocating pressure. Once, he had run joyfully through this throne room, amid the epic murals of heroes carved into the pillars.
He looked up at the old man reclining on the jade throne and slowly knelt. Gazing at Helrga III, his father, who had once been wise and strong. The old king looked down at him with clouded eyes.
“What... of it...?”
“Baron Barbes remains loyal to the crown, Your Majesty. There is no doubt of Sir Paliamen’s loyalty either. If Your Majesty sounds the horn, the king’s banners will pledge their swords without hesitation.”
“Not me... you...?”
“...Your Majesty?”
The old king coughed and struggled upright. Attendants rushed to support him. The king’s long robe dragged on the floor. Gasping, he approached the prince step by step.
“I’ve heard... you and Baiernier... are mustering troops...?”
“...It was to prepare for the Infermer incident.”
“Infermer is our port now. Then why... Cough! Why not disband the troops?”
“Your Majesty. The vampires of Franzrit have vanished. The matter is not fully resolved.”
“What you desire... is that seat?”
The old king’s trembling finger pointed to the throne. He shook off the attendants’ support with quivering hands and drew close to the prince.
“You... truly...?”
“Your Majesty! Do you truly doubt me? The one blinding you is not me, but Moria—that wench!”
-Smack!
The prince’s head snapped to the side. His lip split, and a trickle of blood ran down his chin. The old king staggered in fury. Attendants hurried to support him.
“You dare... dare slander your own sister!”
“...”
The prince squeezed his eyes shut and bowed his head. The strong sovereign, the wise king all ministers had expected to revive the kingdom. Remembering Helrga III’s former glory, the prince bit his torn lip, reopening the wound.
“Out! Get out! Cough!”
“...Long live Your Majesty.”
The king erupted in dry coughs and shouts. The prince rose slowly, turned his back on the throne room, and walked away. Between the massive pillars, a mural depicted King Dane slaying the hill giant.
A dragon flying over the plains, the hill giant collapsed and bleeding. And atop its corpse, the great Knight King raising his sword high.
Once, the prince had loved this throne hall. Even the beautiful statues adorning its ceiling.
“Your Highness, are you all right?”
“Where is Baiernier?”
“Waiting in his quarters.”
“Tell him to prepare.”
The prince swallowed the metallic taste of blood filling his mouth. His knights bowed to him. His emerald eyes gleamed like a lion’s.
“The time is near.”
“For the glory of the royal house.”
“Eternal glory. My knights.”
They were vassals the prince had personally selected during his tour of the entire realm—not from noble houses, but hidden talents from the wilds. Knights loyal not to the crown, but solely to him.
Prince Helrga glanced back sharply. At the hall’s end stood the firmly shut throne room doors, adorned with a dragon’s head.
The scent of blood lingered under his nose.