The Gaze from Sebu Mountain
The moment they arrived before Sebu Village, a head poked up over the wooden palisade—an old man whose gray hair had settled with the weight of years.
"Hah! Are you people from House Zieghart?"
His triangular eyes, still sharp with wariness, rounded into circles the instant they landed on the flame-wreathed sword emblems pinned to the trainees' chests.
"We are."
Burren, standing at the head of the group, gave a nod.
"You've finally come! Please wait just a moment!"
A clattering racket followed, and then the gate on the left side of the palisade swung open.
"I am Igaham, chief of Sebu Village! Welcome, swordsmen of House Zieghart!"
The gray-haired old man had been the village chief himself. He came out first and bowed his head, and behind him, villagers armed with spears and swords came into view.
"We're not swordsmen yet. Just trainees."
"Even so, you came from House Zieghart, did you not? Thank you for coming!"
Igaham and the villagers bowed deeply even to the visibly young trainees. It was a reminder that the name of House Zieghart carried weight even here.
"Ahem."
"Well..."
The trainees couldn't hide their delight at receiving such a welcome for the first time. It was the typical look of greenhorns on their first outing, their inexperience on full display.
Raon stood among them and killed his presence, surveying the surroundings with care. He searched for the gaze he'd felt in the forest, but it was gone—whether because it had left this place, he couldn't tell.
They've already fled.
Seems that way.
Wrath, unable to endure the frustration of staying silent, would toss out answers like this from time to time. Aside from the sudden lunges, he was a rather useful fellow.
"You've had a long journey. Please rest first."
Chief Igaham raised a hand, volunteering to guide the trainees himself.
"That won't be necessary."
Burren stepped into the village and stopped.
"We'll hear the situation first. Tell us about the monsters' movements."
"Even as trainees, House Zieghart is still House Zieghart."
The chief nodded, his face full of admiration.
"Ahem!"
Hearing that he was acting like a true member of House Zieghart, Burren squared his shoulders. He struck a weighty pose—then promptly slipped back into a child's bearing.
"Please look over there."
The chief pointed to the mountain on the right.
"That mountain shares our village's name—Sebu Mountain. Monsters appear every year, but the numbers have always been small enough for us to handle ourselves. This year, however, their numbers have more than tripled. We can no longer manage them."
"More than triple?"
"We've observed over a hundred at the very least. Counting the ones we can't see, it would easily be two hundred."
"Two hundred. Understood."
Burren nodded as he looked toward Sebu Mountain.
"Don't worry. Rest easy. We'll wipe every last monster on that mountain off the face of the earth."
"Ohh!"
"Th-thank you!"
"We're truly grateful!"
The villagers bowed toward Burren and the trainees as if every monster had already been dealt with.
"Please, rise. Sebu is a village within House Zieghart's territory. This is simply what we ought to do."
Burren's face flushed with excitement, but he didn't let it show as he turned away.
"It's late today, so we move at dawn tomorrow. We'll head for the mountain before the monsters wake."
"Then, to let you rest..."
"Before that."
The chief's voice was cut off by Burren once more.
"Please prepare someone with quick feet to guide us up the mountain tomorrow."
"Of course. This way, please."
Overwhelmed by Burren's presence, the chief nodded at once and led the trainees toward the village hall.
Not bad, actually.
Raon nodded as he watched the exchange between Burren and the chief.
Indeed. This King fully expected that eyeball brat to demand they kneel the instant he arrived.
Wrath muttered it with a hint of disappointment.
Did you think everyone was like you?
Honestly, Raon had thought something similar. He'd expected Burren to throw his weight around with the chief—but the boy had thought only of the mission, and had treated the man with a measure of respect besides.
But that's not what matters.
Orcs, goblins, and kobolds were well within what Burren and the trainees could handle without him.
What mattered was the watchful gaze he'd felt the moment they approached Sebu Village. He couldn't be certain, but that gaze had vanished in the direction of the mountain.
I'll know tomorrow.
Whether this was a test from the house, or whether some other faction was preparing something.
Raon swept his eyes over the whole of Sebu Mountain, then entered the village hall last of all.
The summit of Sebu Mountain. Large and small monster footprints were stamped in a chaotic scatter across snow laid out like a blanket.
Not a single monster was in sight, however. A young man sat perched on a boulder.
Ssshhk.
As the man idly spun a helmet shaped like an orc's head on his finger, a figure in a green mask surged up from the ground.
"Who came?"
"House Zieghart."
The green-masked figure bowed his head as he answered.
"Zieghart? I didn't sense that kind of presence."
"They didn't seem to be proper swordsmen. Trainees, from the look of it."
"And their instructor?"
"Nowhere to be seen."
"Ah. So it's their second mission."
The young man tapped the helmet and let out a short laugh.
"You weren't spotted?"
"Of course not. They wouldn't even have known I was nearby."
"Well. As if trainees could detect your stealth."
He nodded, smacking his lips.
"We had the monsters under firm control. Why did they show up?"
"Villagers are sensitive to change. The monster numbers swelled, so they must have requested support from House Zieghart. We got careless, thinking we'd find the thing quickly."
The young man tilted his head back and clicked his tongue.
"We've searched the entire mountain and found nothing, so the magic stone must be in the village after all."
"Most likely."
"Shall we attack immediately?"
The man caught the spinning helmet on his finger and shook his head.
"No."
"Sir? It's a fine chance to kill Zieghart's young sprouts..."
"Killing them would be simple, but if we poke them for no reason, House Zieghart might learn of the magic stone's existence. Grabbing at something small and losing something large would be a loss."
"Then..."
"Feed them a reasonable number of monsters. Let Zieghart's little ones complete their mission splendidly and go home."
The man set the green helmet on his head. It was carved in the likeness of an orc's skull—protruding tusks and savage eyes—and a vicious killing intent spilled from those eyes.
Dawn the next day.
Raon waited with the trainees near the entrance to Sebu Mountain.
There it is.
The moment they approached the mountain, the gaze he'd felt yesterday found him again.
West, is it?
Having sensed it once already, he had a faint lock on the thing's position. It seemed to be to the west.
Doesn't look like they intend to come this way.
Raon lowered his eyelids and spread his perception, sweeping the area around the mountain. Large and small presences. Just as the chief had said, he could feel the movements of orcs, goblins, and kobolds.
His assassin's instincts weren't stirring, which suggested there was no great danger—but he kept his senses open just in case.
"Observation complete. Orcs, goblins, and kobolds all confirmed."
Burren turned and met every trainee's eyes.
"Orcs are the stronger fighters, but as you've been taught, goblins and kobolds use dirty tricks—poison darts, toxic smoke. Do not let your guard down."
"Yes."
The trainees answered quietly, aware that monsters could burst out at any moment.
"Moving in squads would be ideal, but we have little real combat experience. We stay together so we can support one another."
With that, Burren looked at Raon. It was a gaze that seemed to seek permission.
"......"
Raon gave a small, silent nod. Burren returned a greeting with his eyes, then turned back around.
"Show the monsters threatening our land the power of House Zieghart!"
Burren drew his sword and charged up the mountain.
"Let's go!"
"Uwaaaaah!"
The trainees let out a roaring battle cry and followed at Burren's heels.
Runaan and Marta confirmed Raon's gaze, then entered the mountain with the others.
Fools.
Wrath snorted as he watched the trainees' backs.
They've been preparing for an ambush this entire time, and now they scream like that? Pathetic beyond measure.
They're shaking off the tension of their first real fight with a battle cry. Staying calm matters more than the ambush itself.
For the trainees, this was as good as their first true battle. A mistake of that degree was well within the bounds of understanding.
This is your first monster subjugation as well, so what is that heartbeat?
Irritation colored Wrath's voice.
It sounds like the heart of a veteran of a hundred battles. You're watching not just this place, but far more besides. An irritatingly heavy sound.
I'm a special case.
Raon let out a short laugh and drew his sword.
"Shall we go, then?"
"Ah—yes!"
The brown-haired young man beside him nodded, his jaw trembling. He was the villager assigned as their guide. Raon's role was not combat, but the protection of the pathfinder.
"Krrrngh!"
"Kaaack!"
They walked toward the screams and found the battle already in full swing.
"Hold the orcs! Take the goblins and kobolds first!"
At Burren's command, the trainees in the vanguard crossed blades with the orcs, while those behind surged forward and cut down the goblins and kobolds.
The green wall of monsters collapsed in an instant.
Among the trainees slaughtering monsters like a storm, three in particular stood out. Burren, winding the energy of the wind around his blade, sheared straight through an orc's axe. Runaan draped the air around her in frost, locking down every monster that drew near before she opened their throats. And then there was Marta.
KWAANG!
She poured a terrifying aura into her sword and smashed whatever stood before her into wreckage.
At this rate, they would have no trouble clearing every monster on the mountain without him lifting a finger.
"Groooar!"
While Raon had his perception spread, two orcs that had slipped the trainees' encirclement charged in with axes raised.
"Hiiiek!"
The reek of blood rolling off the orcs locked the guide's trembling legs. He crumpled to the ground.
Shraaak!
Raon stepped in front of him, drew his sword, and cut.
"Grk..."
A blade carrying crimson energy streaked through empty air, and the orcs' heads dropped like fruit from a tree.
"Mm."
"......"
Burren swallowed dryly at the sight. Marta's dark eyes gleamed.
"Don't worry."
Raon took the gaping guide by the hand and pulled him to his feet.
"I'll get you home without a single hair out of place."
Kanbar, twenty-five this year, had woken to the worst morning of his life. At yesterday's village meeting, he had been chosen as the subjugation party's guide.
Will this be all right?
Worry came first.
He was grateful that House Zieghart's subjugation party had come to save the village, but they looked far younger than he'd expected. On top of that, the swordsman assigned to protect him this morning was the youngest-looking child among them.
He was startlingly handsome, but his frame was so small that Kanbar couldn't bring himself to trust him.
But what choice did he have? The decision had already been made. He had no choice but to follow.
Kanbar climbed the mountain with the embarrassment of putting a child smaller than himself out in front.
The moment they entered the mountain's edge, what he saw was the children's blades sweeping through the monsters. Contrary to his expectation of a hard-fought battle, the orcs, goblins, and kobolds were scythed down in an instant, unable to do a thing.
Insane!
A gasp tore out of him on its own. The necks of orcs that five grown men together could barely handle snapped like tree branches. Every last trainee was a monster in their own right.
So that's why.
He understood now why the chief had shown such courtesy to these children. These people were cut from a different cloth than ordinary folk like himself.
He had just begun to relax, to let his heart settle, when two orcs came charging in from the left. The stench rolling off their breath locked his legs in place.
"Uwaaagh!"
His mind went white and he collapsed—and that was when the quiet child stepped forward.
He drew his sword. He cut.
In a flow so simple it looked like carving already-dead meat, the heads of both charging orcs came off.
"Hah..."
Kanbar's eyes flew wide. His teeth clacked together.
What was that?
That simple, light swordsmanship made him forget every last bit of the overwhelming force he'd just seen from the other children. It didn't feel like watching a child. It felt like watching a veteran who had survived hundreds of real battles.
He knew nothing of swordsmanship, but he understood with certainty that this child was different even among the rest.
As they continued up the mountain, the blond, red-eyed boy at his side stood as if he were there and not there at once, observing everything around them. He didn't put on any great display, but he watched every situation and cut off danger before it could arrive.
This kid is the real one...
You'd only know it from up close. Among more than forty children, the best of them was this one—the one who looked the youngest.
"Kanbar, was it?"
He was still watching, still gasping, when the blond boy spoke to him.
"Ah—yes! That's right! Sir Swordsman!"
The honorifics came out of him unbidden.
"Are there any legends passed down about this mountain?"
"L-legends?"
"Yes. Something about a great treasure, or a special monster."
"Ah, th-there is one, actually. It was a few hundred years ago, but they say the king of the goblins came down from the west with his knight order and fought a battle on this mountain..."
"Hmm. Nothing about treasure?"
"There's a story that the Goblin King's ring was never found..."
"I see."
The boy's eyes flashed red for the briefest instant.
That was it.
The moment Kanbar heard that low murmur, a chill ran down his spine.