Zombie Apocalypse 5
Zombie Apocalypse 5
"If I speak of my own wish."
At the sight of Eugene deliberating seriously, Cassandra straightened her posture. Varda and Homi, who had been standing a little distance away, also pricked up their ears.
In terms of strength, he was the ultimate image of a knight, yet his way of thinking stood far removed from any knight. Moreover, he was not one to readily speak of his inner thoughts, so curiosity was only natural.
"I want a family."
"A family?"
As if the answer had been entirely unexpected, Cassandra's face twisted in bewilderment.
"It doesn't seem like such a surprising thing to me."
"I thought the Castle Lord would desire a far greater and more magnificent dream."
"Such as?"
Cassandra called to mind the great lords of Roman, where she had chiefly been active.
"A sovereign who dominates an entire region like Duke Ismar, or perhaps taking a step further and becoming the king of a nation."
"That strikes me as too extravagant a dream."
"It is not."
It would take time, but the knight before her eyes possessed conditions that allowed him to aspire to such ambition.
His prowess as a knight was certainly a factor, but the mystical power and legitimacy of the Wandering Castle were simply too formidable.
"I don't know about other countries, but it's amply possible in Roman. Imagine claiming, 'In truth, I am descended from the blood of the ancient royal house!' and putting forth the Wandering Castle."
There was no shortage of mercenary captains who, amid the chaos of war, luckily seized a domain and put on the airs of a lord. Yet the majority did not last long.
A legitimacy not possessing even a speck of dust made an excellent pretext for surrounding nobles to invade. They strutted about for a time, only to be attacked from all sides and either driven out or strung up on the gallows.
But what of Roman's aristocracy, which was mad for the banner of being descendants of the ancient kingdom? There, the Wandering Castle itself would surely serve as the ultimate legitimacy.
"I'm not particularly inclined toward it. If the things I've already set in motion grow too vast, there would be little time to spend with family, wouldn't there?"
"Are you speaking in earnest?"
Cassandra, who had taken it for something like a jest, was left dumbfounded.
The familial affection of nobles in this era was more barren than that of an ordinary household. The love between blood kin was like a cocktail mixed with the pursuit of a house's honor and profit. More often than not, the latter was the greater portion.
Not only marriage but even the education of children was swayed by the political interests of the house. It was common for children to be fostered in other families from a young age or sent away outright as hostages.
As the wish of a rising new knight, who would not have been strange to see burning with ambition, it seemed entirely too modest.
"In the end, it is only family that remains. Besides, what I envision is a very large family."
"A very large family?"
"Yes. A truly grand and perfect family. It may well be a goal as difficult as your dream of becoming a sovereign."
Cassandra, with her keen intellect, grasped it dimly. That the family Eugene spoke of was not a simple concept composed merely of a husband, wife, and children.
"Though before that, preparing against the colossal threat that will descend upon your people comes first."
"You mean the prophecy handed down in our House."
"Indeed."
-A doom that not even countless spears can halt shall descend upon the House.
-The only path to avert it is to ascend into the cradle by invitation as a guest.
Cassandra, too, was a witch of prodigious skill. For some time she had sensed the ominous energy trailing after the House.
That presence revealed itself as the sun set. It doggedly pursued the shadow of the ever-wandering House and lurked in the darkness, trying to cross the House's threshold.
An ill foreboding that had no substance yet could not be ignored. Cassandra was certain that this presence was fate itself.
That had been the reason she had been so intent, even at the cost of overreaching, on finding a place for the clan to settle in Samur.
And yet that sinister energy had not dared to follow inside the Wandering Castle.
It made her understand at once why the chieftain and the Tribe elders had been so desperate to cling to a mere human outsider.
It was also the reason Cassandra had yielded her stubbornness and turned into the pro-Wandering Castle faction.
"For now, the sheep scattered outside the fence must be brought into the house quickly. No one knows when the rain will pour and the wolves appear."
He meant the members of the House still scattered across the continent.
"To be likened to sheep. Our warriors are not so weak."
"Forgive me if I wounded your pride. It was an expression born of worry."
"Of course, I am always grateful for the care you show us."
Even Cassandra, with her cruel and arrogant disposition, felt an exceptional bond with the other members of the House.
The stronger the contempt for outsiders, the greater the attachment to those within, as a counterbalance.
What was more, unlike a tycoon who can be made by having much wealth, a sovereign was a dream that could only be reached if there were people to lead.
* * *
Ominous premonitions always proved right.
"It was already hell there."
A scout who had just returned from surveying the third outpost, a local lord's manor, made his report.
As a battle larger than the previous villages was now certain, Eugene's army halted for maintenance. The troops bustled everywhere, eating field rations or whetting weapons.
"Are you beginning to wish to start a household?"
"You were eavesdropping."
"It merely happened to reach my ears."
Varda averted her gaze, her face somewhat flushed.
Eugene was in the middle of simmering a stew with freshwater snails gathered from a nearby stream.
-I-is that something a person can eat?
-It's good. Try some, I tell you.
-...If that is not an order, I will politely decline.
Those who had drawn near thinking, 'What novel dish is our lord cooking up this time?' had fled in fright, every last one of them.
Only Homi, who had grown up together with him in the mountain village and shared a similar palate, licked her lips as if her mouth were watering.
"The men were beginning to press the matter. They ask if it isn't time to establish the foundation of the house."
"They speak rightly. For everything of the house to rest upon the shoulders of a single person is far too heavy a burden."
At present, Eugene was the sole official member of House Meyer.
Yet the accumulated wealth, the troops he commanded, the domain, and the castle—the sheer scale of it all was far too vast for one man to shoulder entirely.
There was no way Eugene could manage every ceremony, diplomatic affair, and arbitration of disputes alone. A second and a third being bearing the same surname of Meyer were needed.
Even if Eugene delegated authority to those he trusted, there would be limits. The words of someone who lacked the surname Meyer would not be truly respected even by the vassals.
"But there is also a matter that concerns me."
"What point is that?"
"The principal purpose of taking a spouse and forming a household is the production of an heir, is it not? So that, should some calamity befall the current head of the house, the house can be continued with consistency."
"If the succession is not secure, even the mightiest House risks shattering apart."
Varda, whose disposition inclined strongly toward traditionalism, nodded her head as if in full understanding.
"Yet the situation I find myself in is a little peculiar. Just how great would be the burden placed upon the child if I were to have one."
As he spoke, Eugene looked toward the direction where the Wandering Castle lay.
Varda instantly understood what that gaze signified. It was a subject she herself had also often pondered.
"The castle might not acknowledge your heir as its master."
"Precisely so."
Eugene's hand gently wrapped around Varda's stomach.
"Wh-what...!"
His touch came upon her so abruptly. Her golden eyes quivered rapidly.
Reflexively, she seized his wrist but went no further than that. Her hand, full of tension, did not move beyond that point.
The warmth of Eugene's palm crept in through the thin cloth covering Varda's navel. She did not dislike the sensation. All that welled up within her was a ticklish sense of fulfillment.
"If it was unpleasant, I apologize."
"..."
Clench.
Varda's hand did not pull Eugene's away, yet neither did it permit him to withdraw.
"Heh."
It was only at the sight of him laughing quietly, for some reason feeling indignant, that Varda released his wrist.
But Eugene continued to stroke her stomach, savoring the soft texture.
'Is it difficult for elves to hide their emotions after all?'
Varda's ears had reddened sharply. Eugene enjoyed even such a reaction as a pleasant spectacle.
"Do stop—"
"Even if one day my bloodline continues through this place..."
Just when Varda could bear it no longer and was about to say something, he cut in as if he had been waiting for it.
"A place like this—"
"The Wandering Castle likely will not acknowledge that child as its master. For it chooses its partner by the soul, not by blood."
"...I see."
"The stress the child would endure must be beyond words."
The Wandering Castle had gifted Eugene immense power and perfect freedom. Yet in some respects, it had also imposed heavy constraints upon him.
"And though it's rather awkward for me to say it myself, I am a knight of some renown, am I not? There would be great expectations placed upon the heir as a knight as well. The burden would be doubly crushing."
Had the practical concerns pushed aside the embarrassment? Varda's breathing and expression grew calmer.
"Even so, that is something the child must rightfully endure."
"It's not as easy as it sounds. The pressure would be greater than that of most great noble houses."
"That is what it means to carry on noble blood. The right to voice weakness is not granted."
"Wouldn't you feel sorry for the child?"
"It is because they must overcome that, that they are exalted."
Eugene had forgotten just how much of an old-fashioned stickler the elf maiden before him could be in certain matters.
"It's not urgent, so let us think on it again another time."
Eugene laughed awkwardly and ladled out the stew that had begun to boil.
Beside him, Homi, who had been listening quietly, mulled something over before shaking her head vigorously with a startled expression.
* * *
"This manor cannot hold this many. It seems those who took refuge here have been added to their ranks as well."
The small manor where the lord had once resided was now filled to the brim with those who were no longer human.
"Prepare for battle."
"Let us fight, brothers!"
At Eugene's command, the dwarf warriors formed ranks and created a solid wall.
They were stalwart fighters just to look at, but this time the enemies were too numerous to fight with only their strength.
"Cassandra."
At Eugene's call, Cassandra raised her hand.
"Amazon!"
"Hoo-ah!"
The warrior women answered her rallying cry in unison.
Ever since he rose as a knight, Eugene had heard countless battle cries. But there was something special about the shout raised in unison by a hundred warrior women. It erupted with fierce will, yet carried a refined vigor that no army of men could replicate.
"I really am fortunate. I coveted that skill when I watched the Collapse Mercenary Company fight."
"Castle Lord. It is rude to compare such chimpanzees to our ladies."
Cassandra laughed, covering her mouth. In her hand was a sling.
The other warrior women also gripped their slings, loosening their hands and ankles this way and that. It was a weapon that, unlike the bow, employed the entire body in its use.
Composite slings crafted from processed monster sinew and leather. They were high-quality goods beyond compare to those used by Samur's Collapse Mercenary Company.
"So the sling was your primary armament, not the bow?"
"Our duty is to conduct independent operations in rough terrain, so it is difficult to receive arrows in timely resupply. But stones are abundant everywhere."
"As long as you can secure food, you could keep fighting indefinitely."
"Beyond that, it is a weapon with many merits."
The sling was also a weapon that efficiently compensated for the muscle strength they lacked compared to men.
Besides the slings, the warrior women wore various sidearms at their waists.
They possessed the sling techniques of the Collapse Mercenaries, the skills of hunters, and the close-combat prowess of heavy infantry, in equal measure. The only difference was that they excelled at all three.
"Hey, ladies. Aim true."
"If I feel a thwack on the back of my head during the fight, I'll be paddling your backsides with this hammer after the battle."
"What a load of crap."
"Are you doubting our skill?"
The dwarves in formation and the dark elves behind them traded barbs.
"So we mustn't actually hit you?"
"Worrying for nothing. It'd be hard even if we wanted to hit you on purpose. Since you're so stubby, they'll just pass right over your heads, you know?"
There was a saying that the enemy of my enemy is my friend. That held true for relations between races as well.
Just as elves and dark elves were sworn enemies, so too were elves and dwarves. However, the relationship between dwarves and dark elves was subtle. It could not quite be called friendly, but their most hated foe was the same. An air of 'Hey, you eating alright these days?' flowed between the two races. A practical disposition that would set fire to a forest without hesitation should the need arise was another trait dwarves and dark elves shared.
Apart from Eugene's leadership, this was also why the Hammer Brotherhood and the Black Hand Mercenary Company could coexist under his command without major discord.
"Why are elves hated by both sides?"
"Because they're insufferable, aren't they?"
"Because they're insufferable."
To Eugene's question, Rampage and Cassandra answered with one voice.
"..."
Varda's ears drooped as she grew sullen.
"Of course, Varda-nim is an exception."
Eugene's palms lifted and propped up her forlorn ears.
"I understand, so let go of my ears. Truly, at every chance you get..."
Fending off the glaring golden eyes, Eugene mounted Might.
'Not a bad way to ease the tension before a battle.'
Shrieking, the fiendish creatures from all corners of the manor came charging in.
By the time they approached within fifty meters of the dwarves' shield wall, savage ripping sounds tore across the battlefield.
Crack!
Smash!
The sound of plum-sized stones smashing the faces of the fiends echoed from all around. A unique crispness, different from the impact of arrows or hammers, could be felt.
The fiends that had been charging fearlessly collapsed in droves, tripping up those behind them and turning the rush into utter chaos.
"Damn."
"Seems stronger than a crossbow."
The dwarf warriors in formation muttered.
Truth be told, until just before the battle, they had held no great expectations for the warrior women's sling support. Conscripts or rookie mercenaries might be one thing, but they had been skeptical about how effective stones would be against those tough fiends. Even the mounted archers, with whom they had built trust through fighting side by side on the battlefield, had struggled against these foes when arrows failed to bite.
Crunch!
But seeing stones strike faces squarely and reduce the fiends to bloody pulp evaporated such thoughts entirely.
The hard mycelial shells cracked and split apart in a single blow. Inside, ghastly blue, pulped flesh was exposed. Even if a particularly thick mycelial layer allowed one to endure a strike, it could not withstand the shock.
"Where's that bastard going?"
"Hahaha!"
Some fiends, as if their brains had been thoroughly scrambled, staggered like drunkards and wandered off in wrong directions. Chuckles leaked from various points along the dwarven line.
"They're coming!"
Those who broke through the rain of stones and arrived were already battered wrecks. The mycelium and aged bark that had covered their faces were all shattered, exposing soft flesh.
Into those gaps flew the arrows of the scouts, including Homi and Rex.
"Graaaagh..."
Thud.
As countless fiends fell, the dwarves had not even swung their hammers once.
Ordinarily, they would have been impatient, eager to distinguish themselves before their employer. But this time, all of them simply felt pure admiration.
"Shall we charge?"
After several volleys of ranged attacks, when no more firing angles presented themselves, Rampage asked Eugene for orders.
"No. We'll soften them up at range a bit more before going in."
At the same time, the warrior women kicked off the ground in unison.
"Excuse me for a moment."
"Huh?"
Stepping up onto the shoulders and shields of the sturdy dwarf warriors, they swung their slings once more.
With firing angles thus secured for additional volleys, the fiends fell one after another under the stone hail.
"Magnificent."
Eugene could not help but admire their powerful yet sleek forms.
Not a single one of the warrior women had stepped on a dwarf's helmet. Though they had traded barbs before the battle, they held no genuine ill will toward the dwarves. They harbored a respect of their own for these stout fighters who would stalwartly hold the line in the close-quarters fight that was sure to come.
"Oof, heavy. At this rate, my shoulder's gonna pop out of its socket..."
"Shut it!"
Clang!
A few dwarves who made unnecessary remarks did get their heads stepped on.