Chapter 158: A Shadow from Another World
Chapter 158: A Shadow from Another World
"Do you intend to lead the subjugation yourself?"
Rex wore an expression that was plainly reluctant at a glance.
"What's the matter? This is the hunt you love so much."
It was Rex who had come to Eugene nearly every day, pestering him to go out into the mountains and fields. Like a dog bringing its leash and begging to go for a walk.
"A hunt's a hunt, but it depends on the quarry. I'd rather pass on the Hydra. It's dangerous by class alone, its regeneration is formidable, and poison doesn't work well on it either."
Rex counted off on his fingers as he spoke.
"And the mucus secreted on its skin — how revolting is that? On top of that, it's fire-resistant, so flames don't even stick well."
"I can see why the knights worked so hard to drive it away."
Even a troll, with its characteristic physique and regeneration, was considered madness to fight one-on-one. The standard approach was to surround it with a large force, keep it in check with crossbow fire, and kill it with flame.
The Hydra was essentially a superior version of the troll in both class and regeneration, and it lacked even fire as a weakness.
"Even so, refusing is difficult. They say it's heading this way."
"Right now, it's moving toward Kitania, but there's still distance. It could change direction at any time. Roaming monsters go wherever they please at any given moment. A Hydra is intelligent enough to know that a large city is dangerous."
"You're saying it'll go elsewhere if it gets close to a city?"
"I'd wager on it. I'll put up 200,000 credits that it won't come to this city."
Seeing him stake an amount just shy of a week's combat wage, he seemed remarkably confident.
"Sorry, but I've already made up my mind. Whether it comes or not, I'm hunting the thing."
Eugene was still lacking in many respects to be called a great noble. Yet in Sicily, he was unmistakably in the position of ruler.
Even though a bishop-count nominally held higher rank, House Meyer was foremost in military strength, economic power, and symbolic authority.
He bore the obligation to take the lead in situations such as large-scale foreign invasions or monster outbreaks that a single house could not resolve. The regions where his vassals were dispersed also lay within the danger zone.
"Is this the duty of a high-ranking noble? The title's nice, but it's tiresome."
"It's not just out of a sense of duty. I'm not going to be buried on this island, and I'll be heading back out into the world before long. It'll put my mind at ease if I eliminate the threats now."
Above all, it was an excellent opportunity to completely erase the taint of being an invader.
Though Eugene took the native nobles as vassals, built good diplomatic relations, and governed justly, there were those who opposed him.
If he subjugated the monster that was Sicily's longstanding peril and nemesis, no one would be able to challenge House Meyer's authority.
"Still, won't there be some who'll try their tricks while the knight is away?"
"They'll have to mull it over at least three more times. That's enough. As long as they don't form a coalition, holding out defensively with the city at our backs will be more than feasible."
The island's available combat strength had been halved from its usual level, and there was no central unifying figure. Messana, where the Peninsula's forces frequently came and went, would defend itself, and neither Phileremo nor Kitania had anything to fear in a defensive siege.
"The problem is we have to catch it for free."
Eugene folded his arms and brooded with a serious expression.
"No, Sir Knight."
To decide to fight a monster as dangerous as a Hydra without a second thought, yet show that kind of attitude about not receiving a fee.
"You can obtain an enormous sum from the Hydra's carcass alone."
"The sub-chieftain is right. Are you not the lord of a city with an alchemy guild, a tanners' guild, and even a trade port attached? You'll be able to receive full value without any loss."
"Spoils are spoils, and an advance payment is an advance payment."
The two men's reassurances had little effect. What brought the color back to Eugene's face was the chest brought by the envoy from the Apostolic Council.
"Your Excellency's diligence in vanquishing monsters at humanity's front line — it is an example to all. Please accept these Talents. A token of gratitude sent by the Orders."
"Is the true crusade not the fight against monsters? The war with the former count was but an unfortunate process!"
"You are truly dependable!"
Unlike the nobles, who, for all their roundabout words, could not offer payment, the Apostolic Council was thorough in this regard.
It was because they had learned early on that in a world ruled by the logic of force, demanding something through piety alone was a fool's errand.
After the envoy departed with a satisfied expression, Eugene opened the chest. It was filled with silver coins engraved with the image of an ascetic saint.
"This is my first time seeing Talents. I'd heard they were so rare I assumed they were gold coins. Surprising."
Rex picked up one of the Talents. A born warrior, he might not sense it, but Eugene felt the holy energy imbued within the silver coin.
"They're no ordinary silver coins. They are sacred coins minted with the bone dust of saints mixed in."
The Talent was a local currency circulated only among the Orders that had joined the Apostolic Council. Secular rulers could also use Talents to hire people from the Orders or purchase sacred items.
Those items ranged from the Holy War Knight Order and high-ranking priests who had performed miracles to potions and ritual implements.
Talents were not something one could buy simply with money. They were a precious reward given solely as recompense for good deeds recognized by the Orders.
"Even the Roman royal house likely does not possess Talents in this quantity. If you keep them, they will prove useful for your future. But this amount is not what one would typically pay out for a subjugation of this scale."
"It surely means they are desperate to stabilize the newly acquired bishopric territory. Even if this place is a key trade hub, isn't it a backwater in the world of knights and lords?"
"That's true. I suppose one wouldn't find an army willing to come all the way down here to hunt a Hydra."
There were not many organizations possessing the strength to take down a Hydra. They were more interested in the Roman civil war, which was both closer and an easier way to earn money.
"We have sufficient force, so we don't need the Holy War Knight Order's help, and if it comes to it, I'm considering purchasing that replica holy relic we saw last time."
With the world in chaos, unholy monsters could run rampant at any time. In such circumstances, the ability to wield a holy relic's power, even a replica, would be immensely useful.
"It seems you don't fully grasp the breadth of what Talents can do."
"Pardon?"
"With these, you can literally purchase anything connected to the Orders. It's even possible to buy an indulgence guaranteed by the Apostolic Council if you commit a crime. There's already precedent for it."
"...Wouldn't that draw public condemnation?"
Indulgences were etched into Eugene's memory as a symbol of corruption. To think the Apostolic Council, which had seemed to operate quite soundly, was selling them.
"If it were something one could buy with gold, there would have been many complaints. But it is a right that can only be purchased with Talents, which are given for righteous good deeds. Scarcely anyone finds fault with it. You have received a truly precious treasure."
"If some dispute arises requiring adjudication later, I absolutely must request arbitration from the Apostolic Council."
When Eugene declared he would join the subjugation, the native nobles of Sicily also cheered. Though a nightmare to face as an enemy, as an ally, no one could be more reassuring.
-Did you see that man — no, that viscount — fight on the battlefield? This wretched Hydra will finally be killed.
-How we've suffered from it crawling out and raising havoc just when you'd start to forget about it.
-If it were the former count, he would've kept his mouth shut and done nothing. He's clearly different. To move at once like this.
The mere spread of such sentiment meant that half of what Eugene had hoped for was already accomplished.
* * *
Varda remained behind as the prospective lady of the house to receive the nobles, while Marbas was in Phileremo, serving as Eugene's plenipotentiary agent and stabilizing the city.
The force mobilized under House Meyer's banner for the subjugation operation was approximately 300 elite soldiers.
"Sir Knight. This is something I've been curious about for a while..."
Rex asked, looking at the fluttering banner.
"What is it?"
"The family banner. Is it all right to change it so arbitrarily?"
The banner Eugene had consistently used bore the same device as House Meyer's seal ring.
However, starting with the Sicily campaign, he had abolished the old banner and proclaimed a new one. As a result, the dye shops and weaving workshops of Kitania were busy producing dozens of banners.
"It's nothing more than a symbol anyway. There's no reason it can't be changed, is there?"
"Nobles stake their lives on that symbol, you know. Back when I was active in Roman, all sorts of pointless duels used to break out over banners. Someone accidentally spat in the direction of a banner, or knocked one over by mistake."
Everyone knew that Eugene, unlike other knights, was pragmatic, but regarding even the family crest as a trifling matter was beyond common sense.
"Conversely, the fact that it's so hard to change makes now the ideal time. Major changes should be dealt with before an organization grows larger, to minimize the confusion."
"So what does that flag mean?"
Generally, a noble family's crest depicted symbols that condensed the principles of the world, or actively used imagery such as castles, ships, animals, or monsters.
But House Meyer's new crest was unique. It showed a bow whose body was formed from wings. Lightning was nocked upon the bowstring, and gears interlocked around it as ornamentation.
"The wings and lightning symbolize the Wandering Castle, the shape of the bow represents the elves and martial force, and the gears stand for the dwarves and technology."
"Us... you mean?"
At a meaning he had never imagined, Rex's face flushed with emotion. He had never dreamed that his own clan would be engraved upon the family crest.
"But must the dwarven symbol be included?"
"If I left it out, wouldn't our friends from the Hammer Brotherhood feel slighted?"
"Unlike us, who have entrusted our clan's fate to you, those fellows are merely in a contractual relationship. Once the contract ends, they might well leave."
Rex spoke with an uncharacteristically stubborn expression.
The sight of only his own race engraved upon House Meyer's banner tempted the sub-chieftain so strongly that, for a moment, it nearly outweighed his loyalty.
"Then let it simply signify technology alone, and be done with it."
"..."
"Martial force and technology. These two are the twin values my house shall pursue for all its life. We shall study, explore, and accept any who possess worthy talent. I would have everyone recall that principle of conduct every time they look upon this banner."
Eugene had no intention of flying a flag that merely served to advertise his house. He wished for all those under his command to remember the vision he set forth, to hold it in their hearts, and to put it into practice.
"Hrmm."
Yet Rex looked at the flag again and again with a regretful face. This time, at least, he seemed unable to cast aside his monopolistic desire.
* * *
Day began to wane.
"We make camp here. Decurions, detail sentries for the watch."
Having worked in concert countless times already, not a single person was idle. Tents in the nomad style were raised, drainage ditches were dug, and cooking commenced.
"If you don't want your ankle snapped, don't wander this way."
The female warriors under Cassandra set traps around the encampment wherever beasts or monsters were likely to approach.
"Oh, sisters! It's not like we've only traveled together once or twice. We know that much."
"It's creepy, so don't call us sisters again."
Arrows were ineffective against a hydra, but projectile attacks filled with hazardous substances worked. True to their reputation as skirmishers who displayed the world's greatest skill in the throwing arts, they had joined the subjugation.
Meanwhile, the dwarf warriors were building a watchtower, a dedicated perch for Homi. Since the dwarves had built it and even laid down soft furs, it was exceedingly comfortable.
"This height should suffice, yes?"
Homi, hugging a pillow, nodded her head.
Given her status, Homi was by default exempt from sentry duty.
Yet her keen senses detected the approach of danger even while she slept. Reluctant to let that go to waste, Homi had sought to sleep on the outskirts every time they made camp.
-If that's the case, why not simply build a dedicated tower for the squire? We'll set it at the optimal height, favorable for observation and for picking up scents and sounds.
Homi had readily accepted a certain dwarf decurion's suggestion, and so the construction doctrine of the encampment came to include the installation of her own perch.
Meanwhile, Eugene inspected the hell axe. Cassandra watched beside him with interest.
"That was the axe wielded by the great ghoul you encountered during the purification of the castle, was it not?"
"It was. Though the shape of the haft was different back then."
The axe blade, large enough that a grown man could have used it as a bed, was vicious beyond measure. It seemed poised to cleave even a middling large monster clean in two with a single stroke.
And befitting a hell-forged weapon, that was not all. Cassandra, a witch of great skill, perceived something flickering across the surface of the dark axe blade.
It was pure ferocity. It pooled here and there across the dark blade like puddles.
"I have heard that among weapons imbued with mystery, there are cases where a spirit dwells within. Might this be such a kind?"
Cassandra's hand spread over the surface of the blade as though warming herself at a brazier.
"I feel scarcely anything one could call reason. It is like a clump of pure emotion. As if the instinct for destruction itself has taken form."
"It was born in the depths of hell. Negative emotions possess a kind of weight there."
"Could you tell me more?"
That Eugene had delivered Marbas from the embers of hell was a famous tale within the Black Hand Tribe.
If the Black Hand warriors were drawn to Eugene's martial prowess, the witches were fascinated by the otherworldly mystery he harbored.
Apart from any political calculation, Cassandra enjoyed sharing such discourse with Eugene.
And Eugene, too, did not dislike how he dimly glimpsed the shadow of his mother in the witch's aspect she showed him.
"Emotions like jealousy and greed are light. That is why they exist even in the upper layers of hell. And consequently, they are the emotions that corrupted sorcerers or witches who deal in souls primarily draw upon first."
"That I know. There is a reason, after all, why the typical image symbolizing a heretical coven is the orgy."
That was neither prejudice nor the propaganda of the religious orders. It was because the pleasures rooted in desire were, in truth, the carrot that otherworldly beings first presented when they sought to tempt.
Though the word was somewhat embarrassing, Cassandra did not so much as blink. That was surely because, to her as a witch, it was an academic matter.
"But the deeper one descends into hell, the more intense the emotions that are condensed there. A representative one is wrath. That is why no human can gaze into the abyss of the otherworld while maintaining a human mind. It is like diving with one's naked body to the ocean floor thousands of meters below."
"In other words, this weapon is a being born amid that terrible pressure."
"That is merely conjecture."
Just as carbon, subjected to immense pressure, was reborn as diamond.
Had this metal and the spirit dwelling within it not also been formed by condensing and condensing again within the abyss of hell? That was Eugene's thought.
His subordinates, passing by, stole glance after glance at it. Even without understanding its mystery, they were drawn to the magical force the axe blade exuded. Noticing this, Cassandra spoke with concern.
"Is this not dangerous? It is, after all, a kind of cursed blade. The sort that tempts men and drives those who grasp it into madness."
"And if they are driven mad, what problem could there be?"
"Well, someone might secretly take it and run amok... Ah!"
"If they could lift and swing it, then yes, that might be so."
At Eugene's gesture, which spoke an attitude of 'Be my guest!', Cassandra's face flushed. For she had overlooked something far too simple.
"In truth, several of the dwarf smiths who repaired this were indeed bewitched. But there was no trouble at all. They came to their senses about the time they were gasping for breath after struggling to lift it. And as for me..."
Eugene grasped the haft.
[Shrieeeek—.]
Cassandra heard a bizarre scream. The wrath churning within the axe blade seemed to take fright and hid itself away deep within.
"I have no cause to be swayed by this thing."
Cassandra, whose face had been full of admiration, discovered the script engraved upon the lower part of the blade.
"Is that the script of hell?"
Eugene nodded and his fingers traced the hellish script. Then, he heard the whisper of the spirit within his soul.
[Open the way. Even a great host shall be scattered.]
Though a being originating from hell, its resonance was far removed from wickedness. For it had been born amid a terrible pressure into which even malice could not seep.
'A being that passed through the abyss of hell, yet was not stained by evil.'
Eugene felt a strange kinship with the spirit. And, as if the creature felt the same, it seemed both fearful of its new master and drawn to him at once.
"I understand you have not yet given this weapon a name."
Precious weapons were ever given names. But Eugene had so far deferred the matter.
"I mean to decide after I've tried it in true battle. As a weapon imbued with mystery, a name befitting its effects would be best. I don't yet know it well enough."
From the haft he gripped, Eugene could feel the spirit's satisfied cry. Did it wish to hurry and show him its true power?
The spirit was pleased with everything: its new master's strength, the wavelength of his soul, his prudence. It was like a shadow that had long wandered alone, having at last found a substance to cling to.
End
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