Still Too Early Illustration
Still Too Early Illustration
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Rex kept his distance and pursued as Eugene had commanded. He focused on pushing the stress of the fleeing Central Army to its absolute limit.
Hundreds of cavalry raising dust as they chased from behind — the soldiers, exhausted simply from marching, were forced to constantly look back over their shoulders.
Fweeeeee—.
When night fell, whistling arrows producing an eerie shriek rained down upon their campsites. Those who had barely managed to fall asleep after fighting off fear and hunger were forcibly jolted awake.
"Let us get some fucking sleep, you sons of bitches!"
The routed soldiers clutched their hearts pounding at double speed from the abrupt awakening and howled with rage. And the whistling arrows were only the beginning.
"Fire!"
They were driven to the brink of madness by fire arrows drenched in oil being loosed as well. It wasn't just one or two — over a hundred were falling onto the tents, so one careless moment could mean burning to death in their sleep.
Yet if they didn't pitch tents, the night winds heralding winter were excruciating.
"Don't grant them a single moment of sleep."
Rex's pursuit force took turns sleeping and launched feigned charges throughout the dead of night. Since they were all cavalry, even alternating with just a hundred riders at a time was devastatingly effective.
Thud-thud-thud-thud!
The mercenaries sleeping on the bare ground learned for the first time just how profoundly unpleasant a sensation it was to be woken by the trembling of the earth.
What was worse, they tied branches to the horses with ropes and galloped in a Crane Wing Formation, doubling the clamor.
"Hey, you parentless bastards! If you call yourselves men, fight fair and square!"
"No thanks!"
When knights who could no longer contain their fury charged out only to fall riddled like hedgehogs, no one else dared step forward.
"Have you no shame before your ancestors? You shall never reach Valhalla even in death!"
"What kind of place is that? Goddess Vanas is with us!"
If they had been knights of Britannia, such provocations might have swayed them, but to the Black Hand Tribe, it sounded like nothing but praise.
It was, quite literally, a pursuit designed to wear men down to death.
"Sub-chieftain. The enemy's numbers are now less than half. Shall we begin the assault soon?"
"No. Deserters are coming out in numbers, but their rear is still solid. Their barricades are sturdy and plenty of archers are positioned there."
Just as Eugene had warned, King Kruger was keeping his fangs hidden. He seemed intent on landing one blow to halt the pursuit, then fleeing swiftly.
"Baron Bout! Open the gates at once! Your king has arrived!"
The tattered, broken remnants of the army barely made it to Norrington Castle, but the gates did not open.
"I have never had a tyrant as my king. Withdraw at once."
When they realized Baron Bout had turned traitor, lamentations erupted from all sides. The dominant emotions were not so much rage as resignation and despair.
"You traitor! I'll kill you!"
"Archers!"
Several arrows were leveled at the Central nobles who were flying into a frenzy.
"Your Majesty! I shall force a path northward even if it costs everything. If we do not leave now, those devil-spawn will be upon us."
"Heheh."
The sensation of everything so painfully built collapsing like a sandcastle in an instant. King Kruger no longer even wore an expression of indignation. He merely laughed a hollow laugh and moved as his retainers led him.
The routed soldiers who had raced here with nothing but Norrington Castle in their sights broke entirely the moment they confirmed Baron Bout's surrender.
A single night. More deserters slipped away than during all the days of retreat preceding it. Even knights were fleeing.
Thus, miserably diminished, they fled and stumbled into an ambush, and the journey came to its end.
"Kruger, you accursed wretch! I shall avenge my father!"
The commander of the ambush force was an Eastern noble whose father had been executed by King Kruger.
* * *
Eugene gazed down at King Kruger's corpse in silence for a long while. It was a hollow end for a once-mighty ruler.
"I had intended to make him face every one of his sins in court."
"If you would mete out punishment, I shall accept it willingly."
The Eastern noble spoke calmly.
One might wonder why he would invite punishment for having eliminated the enemy's leader during wartime, but it was a rather complicated matter.
A noble who could yield ransom became a prize as precious as his weight in gold, depending on his family. Thus, by custom, the contribution was weighed.
It was Eugene who had shattered King Kruger on the field and turned him into a fugitive, and it was Eugene's subordinates who had tormented him to the last as his pursuers.
To suddenly interpose and kill him could, with some exaggeration, be regarded as something akin to theft.
That he was destined for execution anyway was irrelevant. This was a world where men would even duel over impractical matters like whose banner was raised first or highest after a castle fell.
"Your Excellency. That man is a maternal relative of Count Harvester."
At Baron Foster's advice, Eugene nodded.
"Too many innocent nobles have died already. I shall not hold you to account. Rise."
"...I shall not forget this grace."
When they arrived at Norrington Castle, Baron Bout was waiting before the wide-open gates. His wife, retainers, and knights were arrayed behind him.
"I congratulate you on your victory. Please accept the surrender of this unworthy one."
As the baron knelt, all knelt with him.
"Baron. Thanks to your resolve, unnecessary waste has been avoided."
Eugene dismounted and raised him with his own hand.
"The rights of the Bout family shall be guaranteed henceforth, and at every significant occasion, a seat shall be prepared for you. Would you sit beside me at the banquet tonight?"
"I am honored!"
With tears welling in his eyes, the baron swore his loyalty. The scribes and knights also breathed sighs of relief.
Those who surrender must be made an example of, in the best sense. Eugene intended to treat the baron several times more generously than he had expected.
"Should the Eastern nobles ever attempt to persecute you, make it known that your house is under my protection."
"Who would dare raise a blade in the face of Your Excellency's renown?"
Baron Bout was originally from the Central nobility. Two years earlier, the former lord of Norrington Castle died suddenly without an heir, and Bout, a relative, inherited the title.
Though he had taken an Eastern noblewoman as his wife and strived earnestly, being subtly ostracized had been his daily reality.
And once the civil war began, while he kept faith with his original liege, King Kruger, he found enemies surrounding him on all sides.
'I've surrendered — what sort of looks will the neighboring nobles give me from now on?'
At the mere thought, Baron Bout was left short of breath. In that situation, Eugene's guarantee was worth more than a fortune in gold.
To commemorate the new bond, a banquet was held at the encampment outside the castle.
"By rights, I ought to be the one hosting."
"I am aware your circumstances are strained from sustaining the Central Army's supply lines. Moreover, as my vassal, you have sworn fealty, so the responsibility of hospitality is mine."
Everything of quality had already been dispatched to King Kruger, so bread and a few vegetables were all Norrington Castle had to offer. Eugene's camp, on the other hand, could provide far richer fare.
Thanks to this, the baroness and the steward, whose faces had been dark with concern over the hospitality, brightened with color.
In truth, entirely apart from this, there was another significant reason Eugene's vassals had vehemently urged him not to enter the castle.
-I truly do not trust it. Let us hold the banquet outside.
-The blood of loyal men is not yet dry within those castle walls. It is too dangerous for Your Excellency to set foot inside.
Such was the torment of a man who had committed betrayal in a world that revered loyalty and honor.
-A man who holds the custom of hospitality so dear—would it not be acceptable once you have eaten something?
-Your Excellency! Please, heed our counsel!
Even if the baron harbored some treachery, he could not harm Eugene. Heavily armored knights and tribal warriors were to serve as his escort.
Still, there was ample pretext for holding the banquet outside, and the difference in the abundance of food was stark, so he heeded his vassals' words.
"A toast!"
The atmosphere of the banquet was splendid.
"Nomadic tents, I see... they can be erected quickly and yet look sturdy."
"But if one stays in them, wouldn't every noise leak out? Wouldn't that be awkward between neighbors?"
"This is elven grain liquor! Now I understand why they call it drinkable bread. I feel as though energy is surging through me."
Faced with such unfamiliar yet fascinating hospitality, the members of Baron Bout's household also wore expressions of satisfaction.
Varda had taken great care in preparing everything so they would not fall into an inferiority complex, thinking, 'They must distrust our hospitality because we're a traitor's household.'
"There's one thing I've been curious about. You're a man who, even surrounded by the Eastern Army just after the civil war broke out, remained loyal to King Kruger. Why did you surrender to me?"
Seated at the place of honor, Eugene poured liquor into the baron's cup.
"I'm not mocking you, nor testing you. I'm purely curious. What brought about the change of heart?"
"For a man of no particular ability like myself, loyalty was a value more important than any other."
The baron, who had been toying with his cup, drained it in one swift motion.
"But once I became a father, many things changed."
"So that was the reason."
It was a simple reason for a man to change his heart — yet stronger than any other.
"It is not a matter that ends with my house alone. The futures of the garrison and the people of the castle hung in the balance as well. Once I realized how precious my own child was, I began to see other people's children differently too."
It seemed Baron Bout had even opened his eyes to the preciousness of other people's children. For a noble of this era, that was a remarkable transformation.
"When your wife's due date draws near, you may send her to the Shade Garden."
"S-such precious consideration... how could I possibly..."
In this era, childbirth was second only to marching into battle as the most dangerous undertaking. Being nobility was no exception to this.
The Shade Garden was a place that brought plenitude to both body and spirit. A superstition even held that children born there received nature's blessing and came into the world healthy.
For Eugene, it was a stronghold of high political utility in more ways than one.
And so, the Britannian civil war, stained with so much blood, drew to a close.
Those who had dared style themselves as kings vanished, and the houses returned to their original titles. Yet everyone faced one fact squarely.
Though he himself still called himself merely a count, an overlord had arisen whom none in Britannia could dare defy.
* * *
"Among your vassals, there was talk of elevating you to duke."
After the banquet ended, Varda spoke as they lay facing each other.
"I did hear a few drunken men carrying on about it. And the others did not even try to stop them."
"Of course not. To object to it there would mark one as disloyal."
The one who responded most enthusiastically was Baron Bout.
"And what are your thoughts?"
Varda asked in a gently probing tone.
"I have no particular interest in it."
"It is a dukedom, a position of immense prestige. Does that honor not tempt you? To succeed the title of the regent family that once ruled this island nation would give it sound justification as well."
Eugene shook his head briefly against the pillow.
"Becoming a duke does not grant me rights I do not already possess. It would only create countless new holes through which coin must flow to maintain the dignity of the station. And it would greatly heighten others' wariness as well."
Though all around him they lauded Eugene as the one who had struck down the tyrant, it was not only positive sentiment they held. Peel back a single layer and it was also thick with fear at the rise of a new overlord.
"Whether it be wealth or wariness, you would surely be more than capable of handling it all."
The center of Britannia had now fully shifted to the south. It had always been a prosperous region thanks to active trade, and it had cleanly avoided the war's devastation.
Refugees who had lost their homes were pouring southward in great numbers, the south's military power was effectively without peer, and political symbols like Varda and the Shade Garden carried enormous weight.
"Which is precisely why I must wait longer. Precisely because the thing I could grasp at any moment is provoking fear in others. There is no harm in waiting until it falls into my lap of its own accord."
Varda could not for the life of her understand where Eugene's composure came from. As his wife, she simply followed the wishes of the husband she respected.
"You are a knight among knights, yet at times you seem farther from a knight than anyone else."
"At times?"
Eugene smiled, pulled Varda's pillow away, and slipped his arm beneath her head instead.
"...In truth, quite often."
She did not refuse, resting her cheek upon his arm.
"You really do enjoy using my arm as a pillow."
"Of course, it is so snug. Does it not ache for you?"
"Not at all. The arm-pillow given to an elf is something special."
Elves have long ears. Because of this, whether receiving the arm-pillow or giving it, the weight was well distributed.
With their differences in race, there was always something new to discover, even in the most trivial acts.
A new sensation.
A new wonder.
A new delight.
"Heavy."
Varda trembled faintly under Eugene's weight pressing upon her entire body. Upon the luxurious field bed, strength flowed into their two clasped hands.
"Shall I move?"
"No."
Her porcelain-like legs coiled around Eugene's legs.
"It is somewhat stifling, but this, too, is good in its own way."
Varda kept her eyes gently shut and felt Eugene's weight with her whole body.
After spending their first night together, Varda had come to know the joy that existed beyond the suffering.
At first, the ecstasy that followed the sharp, piercing pain. But as their newlywed life continued, the sensations she knew grew broader.
She had realized that the combinations of sensations a body could produce were limitless.
That curious flavors, impossible to define by pain and pleasure alone, lurked all throughout a woman's form.
-You went out into the forest alone again! I told you it's dangerous at night!
Memories of her childhood surfaced, of being scolded by Grace yet still venturing out to explore the Emerald Forest.
* * *
"King Kruger is truly dead? Is that certain?"
"It was not seen by just one or two. They say his face was struck by so many arrows it was beyond recognition."
Rumors spread across Britannia in an instant. The eastern noble who killed King Kruger received a great deal of condemnation.
"What? Then he must have died without suffering, right? That's far too easy a death for that damned bastard."
The problem was not that they had killed him, but that the manner of his death had been disappointing. As one could not kill a man already dead, the next item of business was how to dispose of the corpse.
"Your Excellency! Please reconsider!"
"This is a judgment I reached after reconsidering ten times over, so speak of it no more."
Eugene restrained the nobles who wanted to heap indignity even upon the corpse and handed King Kruger's body over to Kray.
He had the arrows removed, the wounds stitched closed, and the body embalmed before placing it in a clean coffin. Kray was bewildered by Eugene's kindness, which he had never imagined.
"Is this truly acceptable to you?"
"Of course it is not acceptable. Did your father incur a great deal of grudges? There are many nobles nursing grievances over this."
"..."
Because of both his respect for Eugene as a knight and his sense of propriety as a noble, Kray did not want to cause Eugene trouble.
Yet tyrant though he was, the man was still Kray's own flesh and blood. As a son, Kray could not bear to see his father's corpse defiled and mocked.
"But I have declared I will return it, so who would dare challenge that? A bit of grumbling is easily ignored. The sole thing I ask of you is simply this: do not forget."
"I shall never forget. That you stopped my father, and that you showed mercy to me."
Kray swore that as soon as he returned, he would drive out his eldest brother and become head of the family himself.
That was the minimum condition for the peace agreement. His eldest brother had earned many grudges for the deeds he committed while serving King Kruger.
Unlike his younger brother, the eldest had no military talent whatsoever, so he would be easily driven out by Kray, who had Eugene's backing.
"As of this moment, I lift the muster order. I commend you all for fulfilling your oaths with honor. I am truly proud of you."
The vassals stamped their feet in unison and offered a military salute.
"It is we who were able to leave our names upon history under Your Excellency's command."
"Hahaha! I already look forward to seeing my wife's face. She will have never seen spoils this plentiful."
Having successfully completed their first muster, the vassals returned to their own homelands. Each of them traveled with wagons piled high with riches.
"You have all followed my commands well during this time. The war is over, so go now wherever you wish."
"We thank you for your mercy."
The mercenaries who had surrendered at King's Field had their equipment returned and were released with a small sum of traveling money besides.
"It seems a bit premature, does it not?"
During the pursuit of King Kruger, Rex had discovered numerous remnants of the Central Army. There were occupied villages and fortresses, and quite a few men who had hidden in the mountains upon hearing news of the defeat.
"It's a level the eastern nobles can handle on their own, so it won't be a problem. If anything, our continuing to stay here would only make them more uneasy."
"Now that you mention it, it would be like a tiger driving off a wolf and then lying down to scratch its belly."
Among nobles, there is no such thing as freely given aid. Eugene's army had already placed them under an immense debt of gratitude.
If they tried to sweep away the remnants as well, the eastern nobles' gratitude would turn to fear and suspicion.
They would think Eugene had come not to deliver them, but to become a second King Kruger.
"Besides, wouldn't running into the local nobles here be awkward in its own way?"
As King Kruger had swept through the west and the east, he had amassed a staggering quantity of plunder.
The southern army, having destroyed the Central Army and seized that plunder, could claim rightful ownership of it.
In principle, the eastern nobles could not demand its return, but the truth was that one could not help but be conscious of the original owners.
Each in their own way, the vassals offered Eugene their utmost respect and then departed without looking back.
* * *
"I hate beards."
After seeing his vassals off to ensure their safe departure, Eugene remained alone and stroked his rough chin.
Eugene, who preferred cleanliness and always shaved, had been forced to endure it during the war.
He could not enjoy the pleasure of being fresh and clean all by himself while the soldiers under his command carried out their duties unable even to wash properly.
Other nobles might have enjoyed their noble privileges regardless of whether their lessers toiled or suffered, but that was not Eugene's way.
"Hm-hm~."
Reclining upon a lavish massage chair, Eugene heard Homi's humming reach his ears. Grooming her liege's hair and shaving his beard was her favorite pastime.
Though watching Eugene's glory as he swept from victory to victory on the battlefield was also a joy, the interruption of shaving during that time had certainly been a disappointment.
Knead, knead.
Her delicate hands, laden with the finest perfumes, spread the fragrance all across her luxuriant tail. These were far finer goods than what they had used at the Bonyard mansion two years past.
As Eugene and Homi had risen in the world, so too had the perfumes, the creams, the implements—everything had been upgraded.
Poof.
The soft fur of the tail settled down upon Eugene's face. Beneath that texture, the warmth of Homi's body, shyly concealed, could be felt.
With every breath Eugene drew, the scent of rose oil, brought all the way from the distant south, flooded into his lungs.
"It smells lovely. And it's so soft."
This was a service Homi provided whenever she washed Eugene's hair or trimmed his beard. At the same time, it was also an expression of her own desire.
Beastkin have an instinct to mark those precious to them with their own scent. In Homi's case, she acted upon it with far more refinement, fully aware of her own position.
"I missed this peaceful time."
"The bearded look was handsome as well."
Homi's voice, as she held the razor, was filled with both sincerity and a touch of regret.
"Then shall I grow it out?"
"♪~!"
Homi signaled her refusal with a whistle. When Eugene lightly brushed her tail aside with his forefinger, her resolute expression came into view.
It was a look that seemed to say, 'The bearded face is handsome too, but I can't give up this time, either.'
Rex was the only retainer who could call Eugene 'Sir Knight.' Everyone envied that privilege, and Rex held it as a point of pride. But even he shrank back in the face of Homi.
Scritch, scritch.
The right to be the only one who could hold a blade to Eugene's throat. That was a privilege of Homi's that even Rex dared not covet.
"Hehehe."
When the task was finished, Homi stroked Eugene's now-smooth cheek. Eugene, too, shut his eyes gently and enjoyed the feel of Homi's fingers.
The truly good things never change. This routine would remain eternal, even as the two of them rose to ever higher places.
By the time the winter cold had blanketed Britannia in earnest, Eugene's army returned to the Wandering Castle.
{@PIC:761282}
> > End
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