All Goes Well
"You want me to follow these rats?"
"Yeah. I'll get you to the north safely."
"Great. The key is making sure nobody spots me on the way to the north, right?"
"Exactly."
"This feels like an adventure. Let's go quick."
For a ten-year-old brat, he was a strange kid. He had the innocence of a child, yet he showed that frisky, excitable look. Without a shred of worry or fear, Ramore darted off after the rat beastmen. The ten elite assassins of the Twisted Tail Clan, with submachine guns hidden in their coats, attached themselves as his escort.
"See you in the north!" Ramore waved cheerfully, hoisted onto the back of one of the rat beastmen, and vanished into the sewers in the blink of an eye.
"Chik! Don't worry so much. Sewers exist everywhere, and where there are sewers, long-tailed kin always survive."
Kka-chi said that while smacking my thigh. I let out a quiet laugh.
"Could there be experts on sewers better than you folks? Don't worry. I'm carrying a hundred thousand crowns and firearms. I'm confident nothing will happen to me."
"My concern is after we arrive in the north. What if the northern people see long-tailed kin and start screaming about the smell and attacking?"
At that, Labelt-chi, the 2nd battalion commander, burst out laughing.
"Once we get to the north, the Nine-Tail kin in the Hellhound Brigade will welcome you. Don't worry. I have a letter written by me personally—I guarantee they won't lay a finger on you."
"Chik. That's what should happen, isn't it."
"The north isn't nearly as hostile toward beastmen as the south, west, or east to begin with. Since it's the place that has to hold back the monsters, there's a history of hiring skilled beastmen as mercenaries. Don't worry that much. Aside from the cold, it's not a bad place."
Kka-chi's goatee trembled at Labelt-chi's words.
"Commander Volka."
"Speak up, Kka-chi."
"Promise me you'll let my clan members sleep on soft beds. You must keep that promise."
"By today, I'll give you the certainty that I'll keep my promise."
I ruffled Kka-chi's shoulder, then boarded the armored train with him. The rat beastmen who had been deployed for the Ramore ambush operation—all of them, including the ones who'd learned submachine gun marksmanship from the 2nd battalion commander, however clumsily—boarded as well. When going to war, the more heads the better, after all.
"Conductor."
"Yes, sir!"
"Move out. Head for the Rubheim Marquis's domain."
"As you command!"
The magical engine of the lead locomotive began drawing in the heat from the burning coal and converting it into motive power. The massive mobile fortress, loaded with eighty freight cars, slowly began rolling forward along the tracks.
Unlike the western Leonard Marquis's domain, the Rubheim Marquis welcomed us from the very start with extraordinary warmth. A being who bends an impossibly vast swath of land with political power alone must have extraordinary instincts—his reading of the room was remarkably sharp.
When the Behemoth arrived at the train station inside the Rubheim Marquis's domain, soldiers of the marquis's garrison were already stationed all around the station, armed to the teeth and pointed at us. A squadron of thirty knights and what appeared to be two mages were the cherry on top.
"Volka Adrakin!"
The mage standing at the front—a figure who looked unmistakably like a mage—bellowed the name.
"Drop your weapons and disembark from the train! Right now!"
Well. A strong presence right out of the gate. But why would I—
"Conductor. Aim all the turrets and machine guns on the Behemoth at the enemy."
"As you command."
The Behemoth's train guns slowly turned to face the opposing force. The built-in water-cooled machine guns did the same. That wasn't all.
"Deputy! And Mogant! Battle stations! Remember this! Do not fire until I give the order!"
"As you command!"
Just as it seemed like the howling of wolves was about to erupt, the freight cars on the opposite side from where the confrontation was unfolding swung open. Wolf beastmen armed with old-fashioned bolt-action rifles took up prone firing positions, aiming their weapons through the gap between the tracks and the train. The atmosphere was deadly serious, but unlike in the west, the southern soldiers showed no fear whatsoever.
"Do you really think you'll win a gunfight here? Do you know how many people are in the south? Are you saying you can beat all of us? Do you think you have any chance against us without mages or knights?!"
The enemy had mages and knights. We did not. That difference was decisive. After experiencing ten years of war, I knew better than anyone how vast the gap between having mages and not having them truly was. On top of that, unlike the west, these southern folks would suffer zero losses even if they engaged in a firefight right here at the station. Farmland? Sure, it might get scorched. But that's it. The factories wouldn't grind to a halt like they did in the west. They were genuinely poised to open fire.
At this point, I flung open the freight car and strode out with full confidence before the hundreds of gun barrels, mages, and knights aimed at me.
"I'll admit it. We have no chance. Fighting would only get us killed."
The mage wasn't wrong. But here's the funny part:
"But aren't you in no position to fire either? Do you really think I came all the way here without a single thread of trust?"
The important point was that the one holding the sword hilt was on this side, not that side. The mage's expression twisted.
"Not strong enough yet. I need to push harder here."
"Put down your guns! And withdraw your army! Don't point your barrels at my subordinates!"
I roared that at the top of my lungs so everyone could hear. The mage hesitated, then waved his hand to signal the soldiers to lower their weapons. After confirming that the Rubheim Marquis's soldiers were following the order, I turned my head toward the Behemoth.
"Kka-chi! Deputy! And the battalion commanders—follow me!"
The people I called came running at breakneck speed and lined up behind me. Reliable bastards, every time.
"Guide us to the Rubheim Marquis, mage."
I said that while shoving my face forward, and the mage, startled by my monstrous appearance, flinched and trembled before finally nodding.
"Open the way!"
We strode past the marquis's soldiers with full confidence and boarded the carriage they had prepared. Kka-chi seemed to be feeling an overwhelming thrill in every single moment. His goatee was trembling nonstop. And he had every reason to be. In broad daylight, walking proudly in front of mages and knights. For a rat beastman, that meant everything.
The carriage shot forward, carrying us toward the marquis's estate.
"He's waiting for you in his study. Go in and see."
The mage opened the door and said that. I entered the study with the battalion commanders, Kka-chi, and the deputy. The moment we stepped inside, the door closed and a magic was cast—the air thrummed with mana. After all, from here on, the conversation inside was the kind that absolutely could not leak out.
The Rubheim Marquis was the handsome type, unlike the Leonard Marquis's rat-faced sharpness. A well-built middle-aged man with an alluring aura. But his presence was unsettling—the dangerous madness in his eyes and demeanor was unmistakable.
"Cut to the chase. Are you the one?"
A blunt question fired out of nowhere, cutting through all pleasantries. But there was no need for background explanation—for either of us.
"I am. Rubheim Marquis."
"You rotten son of a bitch!"
The marquis hurled the inkwell from his desk straight at my face. I didn't even bother moving. The deputy caught it out of the air with her incredible eyesight before it could reach me.
"Ramore sends his regards. He said he really hates you. I suppose that's why the father-son relationship is like that."
My calm voice made the marquis's hands clench with a grinding sound. Before he could do anything else, I casually walked up to his desk, pulled out a chair, and sat down.
"Going to stand? This is going to take a while, so you should sit too."
"You filthy northern savages! You've not only brought your four-legged whelps in here but you're threatening me?!"
"Yeah. It's a threat. Marquis. If threatening you is bothersome, you can kill all of us right here and now. The south is famous for its magic, after all. If you summon your mages, it'd be simple enough."
I picked up a cigar from the desk and lit it with a simple activation spell, then deliberately blew a long stream of smoke right into the marquis's face.
"But you can't do that, can you? Since you don't know where Ramore is right now."
"You bastards! Disgusting whelps! You're not even as good as pigs!"
"Calm down, marquis. That attitude just proves how anxious you are. I can do it too if I wanted to die, but I'd rather not. So let's give each other what we want and shut our mouths. How's that?"
After fuming for a long while, the marquis seemed to regain his composure with a long, deep breath.
"Where is Ramore?"
"Let me ask one thing. You think I'm going to tell you just because you ask?"
"Then I'll ask you the opposite. Do you really think I'll hand over what you want so easily just because you've made me angry?"
"Hmm. I don't think you're stupid enough to risk the entire power structure of the south collapsing. Even angry, you should be capable of that much situational judgment, shouldn't you?"
A cracking sound came from the marquis's teeth. He looked like he'd explode any second, but I was still calmly lighting my cigar.
"Rubheim Marquis. I understand you want to act on emotion, but listen. Remember this—I have nothing to lose. The north is on the verge of collapse, and the reason beastmen have been treated like shit for ten years because of you and other empire nobles is that the Beastman Rights Bill still hasn't passed."
I stood up from my chair. Two meters tall. My own muscles are absurd even by my standards. And a face that would make even active gangsters step back. I looked down at the marquis and smirked.
"Remember this, marquis. Whether I die here or sink along with the crumbling north when I return, there's no real difference for me. I have nothing to lose. But you have a great deal to lose."
I planted both hands on the desk and shoved my face uncomfortably close to his. The marquis's expression, which had been full of madness, instantly flooded with fear at the impact of my monstrous face. Or rather—my face was my face, but the marquis was starting to catch on too.
"The son of a bitch who shoves his own daughter and the son of a bitch who shoves her today or tomorrow—think carefully about which one is the crazier bastard."
The Rubheim Marquis was a man whose eyes were slightly sharp, but this side was someone who had woken up one morning to find that the male lead of the original novel was dead, that a population numbering in the hundreds of thousands was now his responsibility to feed and support, and that he was now stuck in the position of somehow having to rebuild the crumbling north. Add my monstrous face and the quiet, murderous glint in my eyes to the mix, and the Rubheim Marquis eventually couldn't hold out any longer—he lowered his head.
".......What do you want?"
At that, I dropped my murderous expression and smiled pleasantly. The deputy said my smile was even scarier, but whatever. After all, I'm the one sitting down at the negotiation table—I can't have a scary face.
"Grain. And Ellicser. Two specialty products of the south. Oh, and money too. We squeezed 15 million crowns out of the west. The south should match that at least. Credit, gold, paper bills—doesn't matter what form."
"Give it to me. In exchange, you'll keep your mouth shut and live."
Now that's a customer I like. But it wasn't over yet.
"Before we negotiate how much grain and Ellicser we're taking, let's hear from the person who'll transport them first. Kka-chi!"
At my words, Kka-chi, who had been standing quietly behind me with his goatee trembling furiously, shot forward.
I gestured kindly for him to speak to the marquis, and Kka-chi looked at the marquis with a wicked grin.
"Sell us three transport trains. One hundred and twenty freight cars total. To our Twisted Tail Clan, Rubheim Marquis. And I want a magical contract guaranteeing that no southern noble will harm the long-tailed clan during the grain transport."
"How dare a four-legged whelp speak of magical contracts?!"
The marquis shouted, but Kka-chi didn't budge.
"The cost for the magical contract will also be paid officially. I have 900,000 crowns. Hand over every last one."
Kka-chi was smiling wickedly. But for some reason, his eyes were red and glistening, as if he were about to cry.
"Until the long-tailed kin leave the south, I want to be sure none of my clan will be hurt or killed. I stake my soul on it. Make a magical contract with me."
The marquis seemed to collapse inward, sinking into his chair. He started letting out hollow laughter.
"You want me to make a magical contract staking my soul with that filthy rat bastard? Do you know what that means?! There is no greater disgrace!"
I nodded.
"If it's too disgraceful, we don't have to. In that case, a certain rumor will quietly and surely spread across the entire empire."
"........"
"You, who have a son who is also your grandson. How impressive. If it were me, I'd just go ahead and make a magical contract with a rat beastman—soul and all. No matter how I think about it, that side seems less disgraceful."
"That's not wrong." The marquis had only one possible answer left.
"Rat beastman. What's your name?"
"Kka-chi of the Twisted Tail Clan."
"The Rubheim Marquis's house will enter a magical contract with your clan, staking souls."