A Chilling Warning

Lord Rubheim was a different breed entirely from Lord Leonard. Where Leonard had clawed and scraped to shave even a few crowns off the final sum, Lord Rubheim had signed the magical contract with a flourish, as if it were nothing.

"A thousand bottles of Ellicser. Three hundred thousand ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠crowns in gold bars, two hundred thousand in gold coins. One million in cash, nine million in credit notes. And enough grain to fill three transport trains to the brim. I've given you everything you wanted."

"For the first shipment, that'll do."

My words made Rubheim's eyes twitch. "First shipment?"

I pulled a second contract from inside my coat—a contract identical in format to the one I'd torn from Lord Leonard in the west.

"Same terms as the west. For the next year. The south will need to send the same amount of money, grain, and Ellicser every quarter, just like this."

Lord Rubheim lit his cigar and inhaled deeply. He glared at me like he wanted to kill me, but I just smiled—the same beatific, service-oriented smile I'd been wearing all along. The moment the contract left my hand, he snatched it and signed without hesitation.

"Keep your mouth shut and live as if you know nothing."

"Of course. I'll do just that."

"My son—when a year passes, return him to the south. Do it quietly, using rats."

I didn't answer right away. I tucked the signed contract into my coat.

"If that's what you wish, then so be it."

"You little—! Don't play games with me—"

"You really don't like me, do you? You refused even when I offered to let you keep him openly. For the next year, we'll keep him with us. But if, after a year, you yourself don't want him back, then we won't be able to help it."

Lord Rubheim exhaled a long stream of cigar smoke. It curled from his lips like a serpent. But beneath the haze, his eyes—cold and terrifying—pierced right through me.

"After a year. Whether my son wants to come back or not, return him to the south. This is my final concession. If the north is still hiding my son after a year, then the south and the north go to war—whether rumors spread or not."

I snuffed out my cigar against the ashtray. "That's scary. I'll do my best to persuade Lord Adrakkin. We don't want a conflict with the south either, after all."

"Don't take my warning lightly, Captain Volka Adrakkin."

I smiled softly. I'd already squeezed everything worth squeezing out. No point in poking a wounded beast further—there was nothing left for me to gain.

"I'll keep that in mind, Lord Rubheim. Let's meet three more times from now on."

"Quarterly. On time. I'll send you whatever you want. So get lost. I never want to lay eyes on your revolting face again."

"Yes. I'll see to that."

I bowed politely, then led the battalion commanders and Kka-chi out of the study. The moment the door closed, a furious crash of furniture came from inside—glass shattering, objects hurled—but what did I care? It wasn't my job.

"Kka-chi. The magical contract is signed. Now your clan can move freely and no noble will be able to mistreat you. It's impossible to bring all your clan members, so have them board the transport trains you purchased and head north together."

I clapped Kka-chi on the shoulder.

"Don't mess around with the grain, the Ellicser, or the cash. Make sure you receive everything properly. Your long-tailed clan has a sharp nose—you'll know the real deal when you smell it."

Kka-chi's goatee trembled furiously. Rat beastmen don't usually show their goatees trembling—it's rare to see. But today, it seemed to quiver every time I looked at him. Well. I could see why.

"Thank you, Volka Adrakkin."

"If you're grateful, bring the supplies and weapons we extracted from the south and transport them safely to the north. Hand over every submachine gun and every bullet loaded on the Behemoth. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Even though the lord of the south staked his very soul in the magical contract and no noble will move recklessly against you, just in case—"

I pulled the iron badge of the Hellhound Brigade from my chest and held it out to Kka-chi.

"Wear this. You and every member of your Twisted Tail Clan are soldiers of the Hellhound Brigade. By the conscription authority granted by His Imperial Majesty, I am declaring it myself. So don't cower when southern bastards glare at you. Walk tall. If things get rough, you can even sell the name of the Hellhound. Got it?"

Kka-chi stared at the badge for a long time, then quickly covered his eyes with both hands.

"The pigs in the south can't even clean their own house properly, can they? There's so much dust."

The commanders of the 2nd Battalion—Labelt-chi—and the other beastman battalion commanders quietly closed around Kka-chi. They all wore the same expression: understanding.

Kka-chi will do fine. No matter how cunning or wicked rat beastmen are, they wouldn't betray someone who went this far for them. And they're not stupid. I know that better than anyone. The great heist in the south was a success. All that's left is the east.

The Behemoth clanked and groaned as it rumbled along the rails with two thousand wolf beastmen aboard. Honestly, I was exhausted. In the south and the west, if things had gone even slightly wrong, it could have cost me my life. It was a death-defying tightrope act. I couldn't show fatigue in front of my subordinates, but inside I was absolutely dead on my feet.

"Would you like some water? You look tired, sir."

The adjutant sauntered over, holding a canteen, and handed it to me. I took a long swig. The cold water slid down my throat and I felt slightly steadier.

"I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠do look tired? Where the hell did you sell the rest of me? Fine. Adjutant. Walk all the way to the east on foot."

"Oh my. Picking up on that is an art form, sir. Your personality's just as ugly as your face."

"You little—"

"Still don't get it, do you? Yes, I am that bitch."

I stared blankly out the cargo hold while the adjutant handed me water. After drinking, the cold helped me settle down.

"The east is famous for commerce. They're slick as hell. The south and west weren't easy, but the east probably pours an extra drink. That thought alone makes me tired."

"Well, you'll get through this too. You won a ten-year war—you can handle a little merchant district."

"Fuck. I never wanted to become the Northern Grand Duke in the first place—"

The adjutant walked up to me and slammed her forehead against my chest. It was the traditional loyalty pledge of wolf beastmen.

"You'll get through it. If there's anything you need, order me. I'll follow you even if it costs me my life."

"Don't die. Adjutant. I still need you around."

"Well, if it weren't for me, what woman would want to be near you, sir?"

I flicked the adjutant on the head and glanced at the battalion commanders.

"2nd Battalion Commander. You're from the east, right?"

"Correct. Our Nine-Tail Clan is from the east."

"You probably have the best intel on the eastern side. What do we need to do to squeeze money out of them? Give me some ideas."

"That question would be better directed at the 3rd Battalion Commander, don't you think? Isn't that right, Rabbit?"

The 3rd Battalion Commander, who'd been quietly polishing a dagger in the corner, perked up her long rabbit ears.

Rabbit beastman. Like rat beastmen, she was famous for being weak. Unlike the mouse-sized rat beastmen, her build was roughly human-sized, but her strength was exactly—no more, no less—human-level.

"3rd Battalion Commander. Weren't you drafted from the central region?"

The 3rd Battalion Commander let out a teasing laugh.

"I was conscripted from the central region. But that doesn't mean I don't know the east well. We tend to move around a lot rather than settle in one place."

We'd fought together on the front lines for over ten years, and I still couldn't wipe that lecherous grin and those flirtatious eyes from my memory. And I couldn't. Rabbit beastmen had one distinguishing trait: human-like builds, ordinary strength, but absolutely absurd burst speed and an equally absurd libido. If rat beastmen were assassins, rabbit beastmen were the ones who ended up in the flower district.

"There are rabbit beastmen in the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠east too, but they outnumber the rats by far. That's because it's a commercial city with a huge mobile population—so the red-light district is well developed. It's even legally open there."

"Is there any chance of getting intel from those rabbit beastmen?"

"Not likely. They're not as bad as our little 2nd Battalion Commander, but rabbit beastmen have suffered heavy discrimination too. There's no beastman living in the empire who doesn't respect the Hellhound. Not one, sir."

"Good. We need enough leverage to drag the Marquis who rules the east—Orp Marquis—to the negotiating table."

The 3rd Battalion Commander sighed and shook her head.

"Of course, sir. If the south had one obvious weakness like last time, it'd be easy. But if the rumors I've heard about Orp Marquis are true, he probably has no weaknesses at all."

"I agree, 3rd Battalion Commander."

The east was famous for commerce. In other words, the most talented, the richest person in the empire stood at its peak. Iron-willed, principle-abiding, unwilling to let wealth leak into in-law families—so he never married and instead adopted only a select few sons and daughters. He'd even declared that he'd pass on everything to whichever of them proved the most capable. Unlike Lord Leonard of the west, whose factories could cause catastrophe if they stopped, or Lord Rubheim of the south, who had an obvious weakness, this man had virtually no weakness at all. If there was one, it was that he wasn't stupid enough to expose it. And on top of that—

"And one more thing, sir. If Orp Marquis's information network is as good as they say, he probably already knows everything that happened in the west and the south. He's a man who knows the logistics and capital flows of every merchant guild and noble house in the empire."

"That's not a wrong assessment, 3rd Battalion Commander."

Orp Marquis likely already knew what kind of game I was running by coming to the east. Either he'd blocked the rail line to keep me out, or he'd allowed the train through but was already waiting with a strategy to counter me. The most difficult opponent. But I couldn't compromise or look away. In the west, I'd extracted steel, shells, and bullets. In the south, grain and Ellicser. In the east, I needed to extract oil.

"There's got to be a way, 3rd Battalion Commander. Go meet the rabbit beastmen first. I handled the south and the west. I'll handle the east too."

The 3rd Battalion Commander smiled faintly and nodded.

"If it's you, sir, you can do it. Once we reach the border between the south and the east, I'll move ahead and make contact with the rabbit beastmen in the east—"

Her words were cut short. Suddenly, the Behemoth's brakes screeched, the rails clanged, and the engine roared as it began to slow down.

"Driver! Why are we stopping?"

I rushed to the locomotive and shouted. The driver, yanking the brake with all his might, screamed back:

"Someone's blocking the track about a hundred meters ahead!"

"Who the hell?"

"Beastmen! I could see long ears poking up from their heads!"

Beastmen? I jumped down from the cargo hold before the train had fully stopped. The Behemoth ground to a halt, the cargo doors slid open, and Mogant's pack poured out—armed with rifles.

"Attack?"

Mogant rushed up and asked, but I shook my head.

"No. Doesn't look like an attack. How coincidental. The ones I wanted to meet came looking for me themselves."

The beastmen blocking the track and surrounding the train were rabbit beastmen. They wore clothes that strangely emphasized their figures, and a faint perfume drifted through the air from a distance. They were women of the pleasure district. Male or female, they were all famously beautiful—exactly the kind of appearance rabbit beastmen were known for. But I had no time to appreciate their looks. Every single one of them wore the same expression: desperation.

"Volka! Lord Volka Adrakkin!"

The lead rabbit beastman woman ran toward me, stumbled on her high heels, and the 3rd Battalion Commander darted forward to steady her.

"Sister, calm down. Tell us what happened, please."

"Hellhound. Is that you, Hellhound comrades?"

"Yes. I am. Everyone here is part of the Hellhound Brigade."

The moment she heard that, the woman dropped to her knees without hesitation. She didn't care that her fine clothes were getting dirty—she crawled on her knees to my legs and grabbed them.

"Please help us. Please! I heard you're the one who fights for the beastmen. Please!"

I quickly pulled the trembling rabbit beastman woman to her feet.

"Calm down. Tell me what happened. I can only help if I know exactly what's going on."

"My daughter! My son! Our clan's children have been kidnapped! And it's not just that!"

The rabbit beastman woman couldn't hold back her sobs. She pulled something from her coat. A familiar stench hit my nose—thud. The smell of rotting flesh and decay. A piece of meat, already beginning to decompose, was shoved in front of my face. The smell was revolting, but it wasn't hard to tell where it had been attached. The ears. Unusually long and pointed ears—now belonging to the woman kneeling before the 3rd Battalion Commander and me, and to all the women of the pleasure district who had followed behind her.

"Orp Marquis had the ears of the rabbit women who infiltrated the eastern noble circles cut off and sent them to us."

It was a warning. Cold and aggressive—a warning that said: don't even think about using the beastmen's strength to find weaknesses the way you did in the west and the south.