Chapter 111: The Bay (1)
Chapter 111: The Bay (1)
The adventurer bound to the chair, despite his grievous injuries, did not seem to be in any particular pain.
"Ughhh."
One look at his bloodshot eyes, his constantly lolling head, and his parted lips made the answer obvious.
"You haven't let this bastard sleep for days, have you?"
"It has been roughly fifty hours, I believe."
A mercenary who had checked an hourglass answered.
SPLASH!
"Uwaaaa..."
In the meantime, another mercenary was dousing the adventurer, who was just about to fall asleep, with water.
"He'll die at this rate. We might need him again later, so let him sleep now."
"Understood. We'll put him in a cell."
When Eugene emerged from the interrogation chamber, he ran into Cassandra.
"Castle Lord. I came after hearing that the traitorous adventurer was here."
'A capable woman.'
He hadn't kept it a secret, but neither had he made a public announcement. How had she, having only recently arrived at the castle, learned of the affairs here?
"If you desire revenge, would you be patient a while longer? I wish to keep him alive until we raid the stronghold of the slavers he colluded with."
"What do you take me for? Of course I have that much sense."
Cassandra smiled and waved her hand dismissively.
"I came to offer my assistance with the interrogation."
Behind her stood a woman wearing a crimson robe. She exuded a suspicious air, every part of her body wrapped save for her eyes.
"And the lady behind you?"
"She's an expert interrogator. When it comes to getting captives to open their mouths and spill information, she's among the best on the continent. It's practically an art form."
The robed woman placed her hands together at her navel and bowed politely.
"I appreciate the sentiment, but I've already obtained all the information I need."
"Ah. I'm a step too late."
Creak.
The door opened, and two mercenaries dragged the badly battered adventurer out.
Cassandra stepped in front of the mercenaries, leaned forward with her hands clasped behind her back, and looked over the adventurer's blood-soaked face as though savoring the sight.
"Information extracted through pain and injury can't be trusted completely, and it takes a long time. If you ever need to interrogate someone again, please call for me. Efficiency aside, I think you'd find it entertaining to watch, Castle Lord."
Eugene could sense a faint magical aura from the robed woman. At her waist hung a pouch containing scented candles and sealed flasks.
It seemed to be a technique for extracting confessions by manipulating the mind without violence, combining magic with physical materials.
Eugene was already a mage, and his communion with the Wandering Castle was opening his eyes ever further to the Mystic. He couldn't help but be interested in such esoteric arts.
"I'll keep it in mind. I'll be sure to call on you when the opportunity arises."
"I shall not disappoint you."
Cassandra placed her right foot behind her left, pressed a hand to her chest, and bowed her head. Her nails, dyed a violet shade like her eyes, glittered in the light.
More time was needed before the castle could teleport again.
-Sir, shall we go hunting together?
-Again? We went yesterday and the day before.
Eugene had to endure being pestered by Rex and the tribal warriors, who kept insisting he go hunting.
-Come on. There are a lot of fellows who want to see your powerful bow, Sir Knight. They seem fascinated by how your arrows fly in a straight line.
-Perhaps because it is the border between desert and jungle, there are many peculiar beasts. No matter how many we catch, new ones we've never seen keep popping up.
-Not today. Go without me.
Eugene shook off the tribal warriors who clung to him like puppies and headed toward Varda's laboratory.
Recently, she had become so absorbed in the perfect haven she'd acquired that she rarely came out. As a result, Eugene had to visit her in person just to see her face.
The laboratory he visited was brimming with life. The long-neglected equipment had been neatly organized, and signs of people were everywhere.
A number of young dark elf girls from the Black Hand Tribe had entered as trainees, both to assist with Varda's research and to receive her tutelage.
"Grip the stem and pull slowly so you don't damage the roots. Be careful not to damage the leaves, either."
"Yes!"
Women in short skirts were harvesting herbs in the spacious indoor cultivation room: one adult elf and ten dark elf girls who looked to be entering adolescence.
The interesting part was that they all stood barefoot upon the soil.
"We are children of the forest. When handling plants, relying only on sight and touch is a waste of our gifts. That's how those without nature's blessing must do it."
Was Varda, after all, an elf through and through? Pride suffused her voice.
A faint sense of superiority, which she never normally displayed before Eugene, seemed to be mixed in as well.
Varda's beautiful white feet felt their way across the surface of the fine soil.
"Our skin is a channel through which we commune with nature. Use your feet to feel the roots hidden beneath the soil—their depth and shape."
The girls cautiously probed the soil around the herb each held with their feet. Their insteps and toes of every shape and color moved adorably.
"Oh! You've come?"
"It's been quite difficult to see your face lately."
"Teaching someone is far more enjoyable than I had thought."
Varda stroked the heads of the practicing girls and then approached Eugene.
"I also know herbs to a degree, but this is the first time I've seen them harvested this way."
"Even a slight injury to the roots can reduce the efficacy of precious herbs. You know that, don't you?"
"Of course."
"But herbs that contain the power of magic go a step further. Even if not a single root is damaged, the quality differs depending on how you pull it."
Varda placed the herb she had just harvested into Eugene's hand.
A magical aura emanated from the herb. Astonishingly, a thread of mana ran from the tip of its root into the soil of the cultivation room.
"A magical herb is a kind of medium. The mystery of the world coalesced into the form of a plant. With these, if one is careless, the Mystery may escape through the root the very moment it is pulled."
"I'm watching it happen right now."
Eugene watched as the girls in the cultivation room carefully pulled up the herbs one by one.
As both a knight and a mage, Eugene could feel the dissonance of the Mystic erupting between the herb and the soil.
It was distinct from the sound of roots being pulled free and shedding soil with a soft scrape. It was a spiritual snap audible only to the mind, not the physical ear.
"Yes!"
"It's clean. Doesn't look like anything's damaged."
The dark elf girls rejoiced at the unblemished roots, but Varda gave a bitter smile.
"Can't expect perfection on the first try."
The herb was only outwardly fine; most of the magical power within it had already been drained into the soil.
"You can't become a mage just because you want to. Can you really train this many at once?"
"Of course I can't turn them into mages like me. Unfortunately, none of those children has that sort of talent. But you know there are people who can wield the Mystic even without it."
Eugene thought for a moment, then soon grasped the answer.
"You mean witches."
"We may not be able to train someone into a mage at will, but witches are another matter. Herbalism and alchemy can be learned through effort."
"That's good. Varda-nim gets helping hands, and the Black Hand Tribe gets capable witches."
"They'll be useful to you as well. A witch can serve in place of an alchemist."
Blood, hides, and organs taken from monsters. Potions, scrolls, and countless combinations of herbs.
Alchemists were essential for handling profitable goods. Many people even judged a town or city by whether it had an Alchemy Guild.
"I'm thinking of establishing a research society here where dozens of witches can work together."
"An ivory tower, then."
Across the continent, there existed hubs where mages or alchemists gathered to conduct joint research or exchange knowledge.
It could be called the magical equivalent of a knightly house, though it was far more insular and much closer to everyone fending for themselves.
"More than that. A mage's tower is invariably built on a place where the energy of the Mystery is concentrated. But no matter where you search in the world, you won't find a better place than this."
"Should that happen someday, the position of headmistress will be yours, Varda-nim."
"Though I thank you for the sentiment, I must decline."
"Huh? Why?"
Varda hesitated for a moment, then lowered her gaze in an adorable display of shyness.
"Headmistress... it is a title that makes one sound far too old."
For some reason, Varda seemed to have recently become subtly self-conscious about the fact that she was the older one.
"Then how about professor?"
"That's not great either."
"Is that so? Doesn't 'professor' sound good on a woman? Intelligent and beautiful."
"...Currently, it's nothing more than a workshop with a single mage and ten apprentice witches. I think we're getting far too ahead of ourselves."
Varda felt this conversation was embarrassing and childish.
Discussing titles for some distant future that hadn't even arrived—it wasn't as though they were country children playing make-believe about making it big in the city.
But honestly, he didn't dislike this childish feeling.
"As it happens, I have something for you."
Shaking her head to dispel her idle thoughts, Varda retrieved two bundles from a corner of the laboratory.
"Oh! A gift?"
"Yes. You need to start being careful too."
"Careful about what?"
Inside each bundle were indigo and red pills.
"Contraceptives."
"..."
Eugene's reaction was basically, 'What's with this all of a sudden?' but Varda raised an index finger, her expression utterly serious.
"I don't intend to restrict your freedom, but you do need to be careful. Given your position now, having a child carelessly could complicate the succession."
"I am well aware of that. I'm not a man entirely lacking in self-control, am I?"
"Of course I know. But reason and desire never fight fair."
Varda reached out and stroked Eugene's cheek.
"It's a fight between defense and attack. Reason can't win no matter how many times it blocks; all it can do is keep forcing a draw. Desire only has to win once."
"So taking this medicine lets you avoid that?"
Eugene placed one indigo pill and one crimson pill onto the palm of his hand.
"The indigo one is for men. Take it the day before and it'll prevent conception about ninety percent of the time. If your urine has a faint indigo tint afterward, it's working. Once your urine returns to its normal color, the effect has worn off."
"Then this one is for a female, I take it?"
When Eugene pointed to the crimson pill, Varda nodded.
"The facilities here make that one even more reliable. You can consider it one hundred percent effective, whether taken before or after the act."
The technological level of this world was fundamentally similar to the medieval period. But a few fields had developed abnormally, one of which was biotechnology.
The reason a field of study so out of place in this age had advanced so far was simple: the power of love.
As various intelligent species lived intermingled, countless individuals fell in love across racial boundaries.
When a man and a woman fell in love, it was human nature to wish to see the fruits of it. Yet while some lovers could easily have children, others failed utterly.
In cases where the lovers who failed were those in power, this turned into a fearsome obsession.
They poured vast amounts of money and manpower into studying why children failed to be conceived and what could be done to conceive them.
Naturally, knowledge of species and life inevitably grew in that process.
Countless studies on methods of creating children conversely led to the development of techniques for preventing children.
Add magic to the equation, and sometimes inventions emerged that surpassed the modern medicine Eugene remembered.
"I've never heard of a male contraceptive before."
"It requires very rare ingredients, so it is hardly ever made. But here, nothing is impossible."
Varda looked over the cultivation room with satisfaction, tied the bundle closed, and tucked it into Eugene's clothes.
"I've seen countless families torn by discord over unintended heirs. Don't forget that your seed is now tied to a great many rights and claims."
"Uh, um... Understood."
He'd come to see a friend only to end up getting sex education that hardly suited his age. Eugene could only laugh awkwardly.
Some time later, the Wandering Castle had finished preparing to leave the remote regions of Samur.
"It's been a long time since I've seen the real ocean."
The slavers involved in the plot operated out of a city near the coast.
This was because if they had kidnapped Cassandra's party and immediately loaded them onto a ship to sell across the sea, even the Black Hand Clan would have been at a loss.
Rescue would be out of the question, and even tracking down the culprits would be difficult.
But the world did not always work out as intended. Greed beyond one's station always carried a price.
When the colossal castle sailed through the gaps in space and appeared in the world once more—
SPLASH!
SHHHHHH.
The residents could faintly hear the sound of waves through the gaps of the opening castle gate.
The sound had a freshness that couldn't be compared to the waves of the northern Roman inland sea.
"Why is the surface of the water sparkling like that?"
"The air tastes strange."
Humans, dwarves, beastkin, and dark elves alike—all were fascinated.
A yellow-sand beach, an endless expanse of deep blue sea, waves capped with white foam, and palm trees they had never seen before.
At the southern end of the continent, a new world beyond the desert and jungle stretched out before them.