Omen 2

Eugene had not brought only combat troops to Tripol.

Having accepted the Black Hand House as residents and vassals, he could draw on a wide range of talented people.

Merchants who could generate profit through the trade of spoils and goods.

Quartermasters who could replenish military supplies, medicine, and daily necessities.

Informants who could move through both the bright and dark corners of a city to gather useful intelligence.

They remained behind in the city to support Eugene while he was away on expeditions, which was immensely reassuring. Their help extended beyond military affairs to the administration of his domain.

'Harvest and public order normal. Cargo volume slightly increased. Cases of illness appeared at the harbor but were diagnosed as colds. No signs of the northern Imperial army regrouping.'

Two letters had been sent by the loyal steward of North Fork. Eugene nodded as he read the first one.

"Will you hand me the next?"

"Here it is."

The pale-skinned tribal witch extracted the letter from the peregrine falcon's leg and passed it over.

The first letter was a routine report; the second concerned matters requiring his approval. They involved the lord's authority, but none were particularly complicated.

He handed back the letters after reviewing and signing them quickly, and the witch folded them carefully and placed them into a waterproof pouch.

Peck, peck.

Meanwhile, the peregrine falcon that had completed its delivery ate the sliced chicken on the plate. It swallowed the pieces whole without even tearing them properly, apparently ravenously hungry.

"You've worked hard flying all the way here from North Fork."

Since ancient times, falcons had been known as bewitching creatures that captivated those in power. Eugene too was sorely tempted to stroke its imposing figure, but he restrained himself. One did not bother even a dog while it was eating, after all.

"Now I understand why the House trains witches so diligently. Without familiars like this, coordinating members scattered across the continent would be difficult. Truly impressive."

"I am glad you think so highly of us, but we are not full-fledged mages. This one is also a familiar created by combining several workarounds, so delivering letters is about the limit of what it can do."

Perhaps worried she might receive unreasonable demands, the witch spoke humbly.

Nobles commonly demanded more from mages than they were capable of. The burden was even greater on witches, who were more limited than mages in how much mystic power they could contain.

Naturally, Eugene had no such intention. He had simply been genuinely impressed.

He could faintly sense the mystery of beasts from the witch. The ability to artificially cultivate individuals who could accept and wield mystic power within their bodies spoke to astonishing latent strength.

"It's different from the eagle-owl Varda-nim kept as a friend. This one has a certain discipline and restraint, I suppose. It is unusually obedient for a bird of prey."

"It was raised from youth with drugs and sorcery that stripped away much of its instinct. Contrary to its appearance, its temperament is similar to a small songbird. It is timid and does not even know how to hunt live prey. It will be startled even by a wriggling loach."

"That would make it easier to employ as a courier. That puts my mind at ease. Traveling via the Wandering Castle is fine, but I was always worried about the domain I left behind."

"If I may be so bold, I believe the Castle Lord's concern alone is more than sufficient. Most nobles who hold multiple villages as their domain simply install an agent and neglect them."

The witch's words were true. Nobles abounded who took the attitude that as long as the fixed taxes were paid on time, that was enough, and paid no attention whatsoever to the management of their domains.

A place was considered livable as long as the lord did not squeeze the domain's residents with high taxes and corvée labor.

"They are who they are, and I am who I am. Thanks to all of you, I can at least fulfill the minimum duties of a lord even while abroad."

Having finished eating, the peregrine falcon tilted its head this way and that at Eugene. As a creature imbued with magic, it seemed fascinated by the powerful mystic force flowing through him.

When Eugene extended a finger, the falcon gently took it between its beak. Its long, thin tongue curled around the finger this way and that. The touch was dry rather than moist, and ticklish.

"A peregrine falcon is superior to a pigeon in every respect."

The witch stroked the falcon's head with pride.

Unlike pigeons, whose homing instinct limited them to one-way delivery to a single fixed location, the falcon could find the witch no matter where the Wandering Castle disappeared to.

It also flew far faster and was large enough to carry heavier loads. It was safe from most predators as well, since only a top-tier raptor such as a black vulture would dare attack it.

Before flight, it was fed a highly concentrated nutritional potion from the witches' secret lore. That was the final piece of the puzzle, enabling it to fly long distances without feeding.

"Is that something a person could consume as well?"

"Well, yes, but the production cost is exorbitantly expensive."

The witch answered with a troubled expression when Eugene asked after recognizing its potential as a combat ration.

"Cost isn't a problem. If we used it, I'd only issue it in a few special situations."

"Ah, well, the thing is... it was not formulated with human consumption in mind, so the ingredients also include frogs and larvae..."

"Oh! So it's high in protein. Go on."

"???"

No noble would ever have shown such bizarre interest and reaction. They should have recoiled with a look of disgust the moment they heard the ingredients.

But to Eugene, who had baited fishing hooks with earthworms by hand and even chewed and swallowed centipedes during hellish training in the military, it was nothing at all.

-If you serve him, you may be asked all manner of difficult questions. But do not be flustered; answer calmly. He is absolutely not the sort of person who would punish you for an unsatisfactory answer.

Just as the sub-chieftain had warned her, he was an exceptionally unusual knight.

* * *

The city of Tripol was enjoying a kind of wartime boom.

As the desert trade routes grew dangerous, the city had become crowded with people who had fled for safety and those stranded there, and the money they spent was enormous.

Moreover, as the spoils brought back by the mercenaries and knights who had seen battle were released into the city, commerce was brisk.

But this was only a temporary situation. If the safety of the trade routes were not secured quickly, everything would deteriorate rapidly.

As expected, the city sent a representative to summon Eugene.

When Eugene arrived at the magistrate's office, three mercenary captains were there along with the city's chief executive.

"Welcome, Castle Lord."

When the executive greeted him on the group's behalf, the mercenary captains rose awkwardly as well.

They, too, were leaders of sizable mercenary companies, and some commanded armies numerically larger than Eugene's. Their standing was not equal to his, but it was comparable.

But Eugene's skill and fame as a knight were exceptional, and on top of that he held the unprecedented title of Lord of the Wandering Castle.

Even the executive, who spoke down to nobles owning a village or two, addressed Eugene politely. The mercenary captains could hardly put on airs.

"I assume you have already heard why we have gathered here."

"I understand it is because of the lamia that harmed the Jackdaw Mercenary Company."

Its lower body was that of a snake, and its upper body was that of a beautiful woman.

"It is no ordinary lamia! It's a champion, I tell you!"

"And this is a Samur desert specimen to begin with, so it's nastier at the baseline!"

The mercenary captains made a commotion. They were accustomed to clients deliberately hiding facts before assigning dangerous jobs.

A client might understate enemy numbers, conceal the exact monster to be hunted, or lie that it was a subspecies several grades weaker.

Mercenaries routinely died over small but crucial differences in a briefing, so they were sensitive to anything of the sort.

"Please understand, Castle Lord. Many people have suffered directly or indirectly because of that damned lamia during the subjugation."

"I understand."

Just as dogs, pigs, and cattle had countless breeds and subspecies, monsters developed minor or major adaptations according to their habitat and split into subspecies of their own.

An ordinary lamia had natural coloration and a sleek, almost slippery appearance, while a desert lamia was pale brown with a rough texture.

Furthermore, it had sound-producing organs on its tail and potent venom, making it very closely resemble a rattlesnake.

"Is this meeting about subjugating that champion? If so, it seems we are missing quite a few people who should be here."

The mercenary companies mobilized by the city were more numerous than this. Above all, there was not a single knight who had come personally in pursuit of fame to be seen.

"We did not have the leisure to wait until everyone could be called in. Moreover, it is not yet clear whether it is a champion."

A champion referred to an individual monster that had received the blessing of the god its kind served and attained immense power. Such a creature exerted capabilities that overwhelmingly surpassed its kin in every aspect, becoming a calamity for the entire region.

The classic example was the hobgoblin. Goblins practiced primitive totemic faiths and offered all manner of tribute, sometimes giving rise to a hobgoblin through the accumulated mystic power.

But a small vessel was easy to fill while a large one was not. The blessing of a god rarely descended upon more advanced species.

As a result, naturally born mutants or individuals strengthened through combat experience were mistaken for champions far more often than true champions appeared.

In particular, mercenaries risking their lives on the front lines were bound to make a fuss over anything slightly unusual, calling it a champion.

Conversely, clients who needed to keep costs down and make sure the mercenaries wouldn't panic avoided the word "champion" whenever they could.

"Castle Lord, we need to move against the alpha lamia as quickly as possible."

Instead, they used the term 'alpha' more. It was a rather progressive expression considering the era's backdrop.

It was the product of unusually advanced biology born from interspecies relationships, combined with political considerations.

"No, Enforcer. I'm telling you, it is a champion."

"You didn't see it yourself, did you?"

"But the Jackdaw lot are such tough bastards. If they got wrecked that badly, there's no explanation other than a champion."

"From what I've heard, the survivors were mostly taken down by ordinary lamias and desert orcs."

Everyone who had faced the true monster—including the Jackdaw mercenary captains and their vice-captains—was dead. The only account came from the rear guard, who had been following at a distance, fled, and saw the massive silhouette of a lamia from afar.

"But still!"

Now he understood why the city's highest-ranking official had stepped in instead of leaving the matter to the magistrate. It took the weight of age and status to control the agitated mercenary captains.

"In any case, if we are to subjugate it, we must hurry."

After settling the atmosphere with measured reasoning and authority, the executive addressed Eugene.

"Wouldn't it be better to gather more troops and then strike?"

"Against an ordinary enemy, yes. But the situation is unusual. The alpha lamia has not yet fully subjugated the groups in the area, and the desert orcs are still fighting her for supremacy."

"It's fortunate we discovered it early."

"However, if we delay too long, it could swell its forces to the thousands, like that gnoll that appeared in southern Gord."

Eugene nodded. The gnoll chieftain there had met disaster because of the monsters Eugene had released from inside the Wandering Castle.

If not for that, it would have invaded southern Gord with that force, leading to a massive bloodbath.

And here, they could not count on the same stroke of luck.

"Then we are the advance party?"

"Yes. I won't ask you to attack immediately. Go ahead first, assess their condition, and stay ready to exploit any opening. Gather information while you're at it."

"I understand the situation."

The Enforcer let out a sigh of relief at Eugene's composed acceptance.

Indeed, a knight was the one person they could rely on in a true crisis. Monsters had always been brought down by knights.

In this respect, he differed from the cowardly mercenaries who were thoroughly self-serving even while leading powerful forces.

Moreover, just as the magistrate had said, Eugene lacked the arrogance common to other knights. The executive liked his sober demeanor very much.

'He's still far too young, but there are plenty of people to assist him.'

Was his only flaw his lack of experience? Two seasoned mages accompanied him, and he had the devoted support of the Black Hand Mercenary Company, peerless at hunting monsters.

"Let us depart tomorrow."

The mercenary captains, who had been discontent ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠with the conversation seemingly proceeding to their exclusion, could not bring themselves to object.

It was difficult to interrupt a conversation between nobles, and as men who lived by the sword, their pride balked at telling a warrior who was stepping forward bravely to protect himself instead.

And so, starting with the unit that had finished preparations, they began to redeploy.

Supply and other limitations made it impossible for every force to sortie at once. The usual practice was to depart by unit and regroup at designated points.

The first to leave was Eugene's army. Unlike ordinary mercenary companies, they possessed the administrative and logistical systems to support them from the rear, making such swiftness possible.

After them, mercenary companies that had hastily completed their preparations began to depart one by one, promised higher pay.

* * *

"The situation is more serious than I thought."

Marching along the highway, Eugene clicked his tongue at the appearance of people crossing over from the other side.

Those in sizable groups, like mercenary companies or trade caravans, were relatively better off. The pilgrims and travelers moving in small numbers were in a terrible state.

Rex, having frequented battlefields, regarded the familiar sight as nothing unusual.

"Because news travels slowly in Samur. Plenty of people must have set out without realizing monsters and sain were rampaging everywhere at once."

"Or they misjudged the degree of danger."

Those who suffered such a plight must have been more than a few.

Like the woman now walking toward them along the other side of the highway with a blank expression. Her clothes were covered in blood and dust, and she carried a newborn in her arms.

"She wouldn't have set out alone with a baby... It seems her family all died, and she was fortunate enough to survive alone. The city is close, so entering it shouldn't be a problem."

The adventurer attached as a guide said.

"Homi."

Eugene received a bundle the size of two fists from a nearby heavy cavalryman and tossed it.

They were combat rations: jerky, salted hardtack, and dried fruit, developed so Eugene's troops could eat easily at any time.

Homi, receiving the combat rations, spurred her horse forward and handed them to the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠woman.

"Th-thank you!"

Overcome by the unexpected help, the woman bowed again and again as heavy tears streamed down her face.

"If you need work, ask the city guard and head to the Golden Sand Mansion. Say you came with Eugene's introduction, and they will employ you as a maid."

"...!"

Since the formation did not slow its pace, the woman, her eyes wide open, quickly ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠disappeared behind them.

"Are you taking her in?"

Unlike the indifferent tribal warriors, Haind asked with a pleased expression.

The Golden Sand Mansion was where Eugene had stayed. Educated at the House of Boundary Knights, Haind took more pride in this sort of charity than other knights did.

"If she enters the city like this, only a miserable future awaits her."

"She might manage to preserve her life, but it would be far from a healthy one. And whatever the mother's fate, the baby would be hard-pressed to survive."

"Perhaps this is another connection. My castle has plenty of empty rooms, and we need more hands anyway."

As the march continued, it became clear just how serious the situation was. The villages that served as supply points along the trade route were littered with the wounded and the dead.

"Urrrgh."

"C-Can't... breathe..."

The villages hadn't been attacked. Mercenaries, routed in battle, had barely fled here and collapsed.

The villagers offered food and treatment, but they looked at each other with anxious faces. It was a look of weighing whether to abandon the village and flee.

"Ah, welcome! We welcome you!"

Just then Eugene's army arrived, obviously elite at a glance, and the village elders and other local notables welcomed them with open arms.

Having much to lose, they did not wish to abandon their village and leave. The stationing of a powerful army at such a time was akin to divine grace.

"Jefferson! Go slaughter a pig at once!"

"We will be leaving immediately, so no hospitality is necessary."

Brushing aside the fussing village chief, Eugene dismounted and examined ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the dying mercenaries.

These were no ordinary injuries. A malicious mystic presence hung over them.

"Did you feel it too?"

Eugene nodded at Marbas, who had approached at some point.

"It is a curse."

Black energy resembling snakes writhed around the mercenaries' bodies. A strange fishy odor drifted from it, a stench imperceptible to anyone without magical aptitude.

"It seems the foe we are dealing with this time knows how to wield magic."

Eugene had expected a mere variant with a larger, stronger body, but this enemy was more dangerous than that.

"C-Curse?"

"A curse...?"

Even though they spoke quietly, the sharp-eared tribal warriors tensed. No matter how hardened the warrior, the threat of the supernatural could shake him.

If something that could not be pierced by arrows or cut by swords came clawing for them, even battle-hardened warriors would struggle to keep their courage.

But this time they were fortunate: the man who could cut what could not be cut and seize what could not be seized was their leader.

Grab!

Eugene's large hand seized the dying mercenary by the scruff of his neck.

"What are you doing?!"

"No matter that you're a knight, we cannot tolerate such tyranny!"

Nearby comrades, half alarmed and half furious, were about to rush in when Eugene yanked his hand back as though uprooting a weed.

Screeech!

Everyone present felt the scream left behind as the wicked curse was torn away pierce straight through their souls.