Subjugation (1)
I'll admit I do have a rather forceful personality. I am well aware my temperament runs stubborn — and yet I suspected that what they were speaking of had nothing to do with my character at all.
Presumably what they meant was my manner of speech, my bearing, my whole way of carrying myself. Certainly none of it would pass as fitting for the modern age. But what of it? It has long since grown onto this body, and there is no particular need to change what already clings to it.
"The Queen is here."
"Yes. My thanks."
Princess Sila had led me to this place, and since then had left me with only that single sentence. This coming battle was to be a war of total commitment... and truly, a great deal had been staked upon it. They must believe that to fail is to end — understandable, since none of them had ever properly stood face to face with the Abyss.
But one thing was certain: I must face that Abyss. From the Queen all the way to Behemoth. I could avoid it if I wished to, I suppose — but I do not wish to.
"This room is not so very different from the one I was given."
The Queen's remains, which I had entrusted to them before my battle with Behemoth, lay preserved in perfect order within one of the chambers. It differed so little from the room I had been shown just yesterday evening that I could hardly tell them apart.
The bed was even trimmed with frills — it gave, quite literally, the impression of a bed waiting for a sleeper.
"It seems you will have to remain here for some time."
Carrying you along on a subjugation would be a difficult thing indeed. But do not worry. When the day comes that I travel to your kingdom, I will bring you with me.
The meaning of that incomprehensible song Johanna and Kan had delivered — I found I could now begin to grasp it, if only a little. So it seemed to me, at least.
"What was it again... the final descendant who would be reborn from the Abyss?"
Whatever the precise phrasing had been, it was without question a verse hinting at resurrection. And the words this woman had spoken to me as she fell carried much the same feeling.
Scrutinized closely, the details might differ a little — but I want to see you again, she had said...
"The dead cannot see, nor can they hear."
And yet there was far too much resting on this to simply brush past. Later, then — we shall go together.
"To the place where your kingdom lies."
A movie, is it... In their eyes, I suppose this could well pass for cinema. Or perhaps a game's story that happens to include me — that would be closer to the mark. Too alien a figure to call a person of the modern age, yet dressed and armed in the fashion of Murim.
A rampaging-Murim flick, at the very least.
"Let us skip ahead until the subjugation begins."
Nothing but comical little answers, every one of them — but it is of no consequence. I have grown accustomed to it by now.
The moment I called for the skip, time began to race. I required no particular preparation, but they, it seemed, had a great deal to ready. A war of total commitment with humanity's fate hanging upon it, so they say.
Well — that is the story as it stands without me in it.
The scenery rushing past came to an abrupt halt. A skip ends either when the desired point arrives, or when something happens to interrupt it.
"This time, it appears to be the latter."
The man striding toward me was on the younger side. If nothing out of the ordinary had occurred, the skip would never have halted for this.
"Have you some business with me."
At those words, the man stopped in his tracks.
"What on earth have you done."
The words he let fall in a low voice, standing there frozen, carried less the sting of reproach than plain bewilderment — and some emotion he could hardly name.
"And what is it you wish to know."
"I have been submitting my proposal for this subjugation for the past six months."
I see. Now I understand what this is about.
"It was rejected each time on the grounds that the risk was too great — but now the hour has arrived when it can be delayed no longer."
The situation must be that the Abyss has begun its assault. Delay any further, and they would be crushed defending in desperation, patching holes until nothing remained. Yet even to take action, this blizzard stands in the way — hardly conditions for mounting anything at all.
But that is not what truly gnaws at this man. What he cannot fathom is the Queen's judgment — rendered on a single word from me — and how such a decision could have come to pass at all.
"Have you ever taken the field yourself?"
"I have a duty to defend this place, as a staff officer."
"That is not what I asked."
Nor do I mean to dismiss your role. There are commanders like Princess Sila, who step onto the battlefield with their own hands and settle victory and defeat — and there are staff officers like you, who decide the direction of the war itself. Neither can be spared.
Well, there are also the kind of dullards who do nothing but watch from the rear — though if such dullards still hold posts in a situation like this, then that place may as well fall and be done with it.
"I mean to say that there are things one cannot understand without stepping onto the field."
Winter's cold falls equally upon the command tent and the common soldier. But the severity a man who never took the field imagines, and the severity a soldier endures with his own flesh, are two different things. And that holds true in nearly every situation one could name.
"Have you ever met an opponent your blade could not bite into?"
"What are you even saying..."
"What I mean is this: the difference between how Princess Sila looks upon me, and how you look upon me, is as vast as the gap between heaven and earth."
Those who experienced with their own eyes what manner of monster Behemoth was, and those who merely heard of it. Those who saw with their own eyes the one who slew it, and those who merely heard of him.
"......"
"I shall not think you so thick-headed as to fail to grasp even that."
Hm. It is true enough that I used no internal qi — but how on earth would they recognize that... The world is full of mysteries, it seems.
Leaving the young man behind me, I called up the skip once more.
Time rushed forward, straight to the day of the subjugation itself. Even the journey toward our destination was skipped past. There were scattered bits of small talk along the way, but apparently nothing arose that required my intervention. Though the fact that it spared me even conversation more than necessary was, I confess, a slight shock...
Am I truly so difficult a man to grow close to, I had wondered.
That, it turns out, was the reason. A rather pitiful mishap, born of being unable to see one's own face. Well, I am hardly young enough to take offense over such a thing. And the sooner it passes, the sooner it is done — no complaint from me. Not when it has brought me face to face with this fellow called the Winter Lord.
The Winter Lord visible in the far distance was, for the moment at least, wearing a humanoid form. The problems were simply that it stood far too tall, bristled with pointed protrusions, and its arms were not arms at all but something like lances of ice.
"Well now. Spiky arms, a spiky back, a spiky face — that is the whole of it, I see."
It is true that I have encountered my share of yokai and spirit beasts — though I would hardly call such things everyday fare.
Hm... And why, I wonder, am I taking that remark so seriously?
"Are you certain it is safe to leave this to him?"
Just as I was alternating between idle chatter and private reflection, Princess Sila drew near and asked me so, careful and hesitant. Safe to leave it to me? She had shown such bold decisiveness when she made her choice — and yet now, it seemed, she was still fluttering back and forth.
Well, she is still young; it can hardly be helped. Her judgment had seemed sound enough at the time, but the closer the moment drew, the more the doubts would multiply — was this right, was there truly no better way? It is only natural to drown in such thoughts.
There may exist those whose years do not match their appearance, as is the case with me — but surely not this young princess. Young or not, she must be at least thirty...
"I, you see, am rather better at fighting enemies shaped like men such as this one than at fighting some colossal beast."
I had heard this observation before, and in truth it holds — martial arts simply work better upon humans, or upon foes in human form. The most fundamental techniques of pressure-point striking are built that way from the very root.
"And yet you insisted you would need no support."
"Sila. Did I not tell you that you and your army need only face the knights?"
"Yes, but..."
Even when one has faith, when the fates of so many hang in the balance, anxiety cannot be helped. I, of course, have long since grown used to such things.
Those who tease like that are the worst of the lot.
"Then keep your eyes upon me until the knights arrive."
That you may see just how excellent was the decision you made.