Beyond the Ocean (1)

Eugene remained for a time in the Wandering Castle, which he had stationed between the south and the midlands.

The shattered remnants of the central army who had scattered and turned into bandit gangs, the additional Viking landings that had arrived one step too late.

It was to keep watch over those who, while not quite a threat, could still be called a nuisance as they came down.

There was also the purpose of receiving visiting envoys in the Wandering Castle. Haven was a fine city, but for overawing guests, there was no place like this.

"Did it not take you too long to put the west in order? You expect me to believe your forces only mustered after I had already shattered Kruger's army?"

The envoy of the Edward family, the administrators of the west, was overwhelmed the moment he stepped into the Magic Castle.

The stuffed trophies, exhibited anew each time Eugene triumphed, projected their living ferocity upon the guests just as they had in life.

Eugene, who had smashed and torn through all of them and given them their funerary rites, was the most fearsome beast of all.

"L-Lord Philip hastened with all possible speed! That Your Excellency Meyer's army proved so peerlessly fierce is hardly... our fault, is it..."

The envoy, who had been speaking as though aggrieved, was cowed by the fighting spirit glinting in Eugene's eyes, his voice shrinking into itself.

Eugene was a being closer to hell than any in the living world. The weak, when they looked into his eyes, felt a chill run down their spines, and yet, for some reason, their ears itched.

It was as though the souls of the monsters and champions and magical beasts slain by him were trapped in the hell within him, screaming.

"I suppose I was being a little mischievous. I cannot impose my own standards. You must understand."

"Of course! Absolutely, sir!"

The envoy nodded his head repeatedly.

In truth, Count Edward's eldest son Philip had formed up his army the very moment he had finished punishing the turncoats. For he was a man who knew his debts of gratitude.

"Count Edward was rescued safely. However, he was so greatly weakened that I sent him to the Shade Garden. He will have convalesced to some degree by now, so go and see him."

When Eugene had discovered him, Count Edward had been in the complete state of a beggar. He was gaunt and his face so haggard that his suffering had clearly been no ordinary hardship.

"Lord Philip has said that he will present gifts of gratitude as soon as the situation is stabilized."

"Have him send them slowly. I know your own circumstances there are ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠difficult as well."

It was not only the west that adopted a humble posture.

"I convey Count Harvester's gratitude. He said he does not know how to praise the greatest of lords highly enough. In the future, when Your Excellency has children, he hopes you will have each other's sons as godsons, to deepen your friendship..."

The envoys from the east and the midlands were just as obsequious. Even though they were all great lords, the disparity in military power, wealth, and political debts was so vast that this was no situation for pride.

It was then that an unexpected guest arrived.

"Castle Lord, the administrator of the north, Earl Constantine, is waiting in the audience chamber."

"He came in person?"

"Yes."

Eugene had just returned from taking the tribe's pre–coming-of-age youths on a hunting trip combined with maneuver training.

-I shall give the one who achieves the highest marks a chance to ride Might.

With that one word from him, they all ran about like madmen, and controlling them had been something of a trial. That said, the adolescents had achieved results that one could scarcely believe they had managed to bring in themselves.

"Homi. Go ahead and prepare my formal attire for receiving a guest."

"Just a moment!"

Just as Homi was about to dash off, the dwarf guard squad leader hastily stopped her.

"Er, Earl Constantine said he wished to see the Castle Lord exactly as he is, still dressed from training. He specifically asked me to tell you."

"Oh?"

The guard captain continued speaking with an expression that said he himself found it a curious message to deliver.

"He said he wished to have an honest conversation without political artifice. He thought it would be better to meet as knights rather than as great lords."

Eugene rapped his knuckles against the armor he was wearing.

"Both of us in armor, you mean?"

"That is correct."

"I had heard he was an unusual fellow, and indeed."

The dwarf guard captain twisted his beard and laughed awkwardly.

Under normal circumstances, when a personage of this rank came to visit, it was standard to give advance notice. Whether for the sake of proper hospitality, or for the sake of safety.

But given the state of the times, it seemed he had chosen to come in secrecy, accompanied only by a small number of close attendants.

* * *

"The administrator of the south, the master of the Wandering Castle, His Excellency Count Meyer enters!"

Past the scribe's proclamation and the guardsmen presenting their respects, at the far end of the vast red carpet, Eugene's throne came into view.

It was a troublesome piece of furniture that, to clean it, required five or six maids clinging to it and even a ladder brought in.

Earl Constantine was waiting, seated ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠upon the steps that led up to the throne.

"We meet for the first time. I am Gerard Constantine, who has succeeded my elder brother and taken charge of the north."

"It is quite a distance. I did not expect you to come yourself without sending an envoy."

"My original dream was to be a historian. There is no one in Britannia more curious about the Wandering Castle than I."

Earl Constantine gazed with wonder at the glass tubes in the ceiling that cast light in the color of daylight.

"Even if the history of this past year had flowed differently, it would have been I who visited this place as an envoy. Only the clothes I wore and my status would have been different."

Eugene clasped the hand that Earl Constantine extended in a firm grip.

"Why did you wait here instead of waiting comfortably in the guest quarters?"

"This place truly is a living castle, just as the rumors said. There is that strange creature that opens and closes the main gate, and when you touch the walls, you can feel blood circulating through them. It isn't just warmth—you can actually feel a pulse."

Earl Constantine put a hand to his ear.

"I heard that Your Excellency communicates with this living castle and commands it as though it were your own limbs. I got greedy, wondering whether I might hear something from this Magic Castle too."

"And so you were pressing your ear to the throne?"

"I dared not sit upon it."

"Did you hear anything, then?"

"Regrettably, nothing at all."

Earl Constantine smiled ruefully and drew a letter from within his coat.

"Would you look at this? It is a letter written in my elder brother's own hand while he yet lived."

The letter contained a proposal to join the Kruger family by marriage and bore the personal seal of Constantine I. A few droplets of blood stained it, but the writing was still easy to read.

"The blood belongs to the envoy. There was an altercation when I hurried to intercept the letter after belatedly learning what my brother was plotting."

"So you took up the sword to prevent a marriage alliance with King Kruger."

Earl Constantine nodded.

"My brother was content to have become king of the north, but that applied solely to himself. Through his children, through the next generation, he was looking toward still greater ambitions."

From King Kruger's perspective, there was no reason to refuse. If the northern highlanders, the mixed-blood warriors of the midlands, and the berserkers united, what was there to fear?

That was, of course, by the standard of a time when Eugene had not yet appeared in Britannia.

"For the sake of my house, and for the sake of the northern people as well, it had to be stopped."

"Could you not have persuaded him peacefully?"

"Naturally, I wished to do so. But the envoy was not alone. The escorting nobles, knights, and soldiers all resisted together, and so... by the time I stopped the letter, the situation had already become a rebellion in itself."

Eugene handed the letter back.

"So, the reason the Earl has come here in person and shown me this is?"

"To make known that the north is blameless. In time, in some form or other, word will emerge from those who know of this affair. I wished for Your Excellency to learn the truth from my own lips, not through rumor."

"Very well. I believe you."

At Eugene's ready acceptance, Earl Constantine's eyes went round.

Instead of answering, Eugene rapped the armor he was wearing. It was to signify that they were both here as knights, was it not?

Understanding the meaning, Earl Constantine smiled pleasantly as well.

Though he now looked to be around thirty, there were many lines around his eyes, yet they did not appear unsightly. It was because they seemed not like the marks of age, but like traces etched by wonder at the joys of the world.

"And one more thing."

"Hm?"

Earl Constantine placed his right hand over his heart and inclined his upper body. It was a lighter gesture than the formal obeisance of kneeling, but it was not a posture for one great lord to assume toward another.

"Why do you do this?"

"I hope that Your Excellency will formally recognize my having become the administrator of the north."

"There's nothing for me to permit. We're equal rulers, aren't we? The succession is your right."

"We are not equal. You will someday encompass all of Britannia. There can be no harm in currying favor in advance."

Earl Constantine showed no sign of moving until Eugene acknowledged him. Eugene shrugged and did as he wished.

"I thank you. With this, all the purposes for which I came here have been fulfilled."

Earl Constantine let out a sigh with a look of relief. It was certainly not a matter to entrust to an envoy.

"Sir, you are stronger than the great lords of the west, the midlands, or the east, and yet you are far more humble?"

"I have great interest in history. I have learned how countless nations, past and present, east and west, have risen and fallen. Having done so, I can roughly predict how the future of this island realm shall unfold as well."

"I am curious as to the view of an eminent historian."

The earl grinned and continued speaking.

"Every other region has several deficiencies of its own, but what the south lacked was only one thing. Military force, that is."

Earl Constantine pointed at Eugene and the Wandering Castle.

"Farmland, trade routes, technology, population, the mystique and history represented by the Shade Garden, and power—the south has it all. It will increasingly become the center of Britannia. The other regions won't be able to close that gap."

"What about the north? Aren't there many mines and hardy warriors?"

"Yes. It does seem the north will hold out until the very end when the other regions become subjugated to the south. But eventually, if the lord of the south is willing to make great sacrifices, it will be subjugated in the end."

"Aren't we talking about a future too far off?"

"I am certain it will come, though I cannot say when. Predicting the future by observing groups is difficult, but predicting it by looking at the land is easy."

Earl Constantine once again paid his respects to Eugene.

"Please remember that the north was the first to show due respect to the name of Meyer. That is all I could ask."

That was the end of the unpleasant talk. The two, having doffed their armor, enjoyed a pleasant supper, and Eugene personally showed Earl Constantine various parts of the castle.

With this, Eugene concluded his dealings with every great lord of Britannia. None of them now saw the shadow of Viscount Winchester in the south.

The strife in Britannia had ended and a new order had been established.

* * *

As winter passed, Eugene kept his ear to affairs abroad. Naturally, the civil war in Roman was his greatest concern.

The war between the Emperor Faction and the Noble Faction had dragged on and was turning into a full-scale quagmire.

Trading companies that had lent money, mercenary companies that had been promised something else instead of pay, and betrayals and side-switching born of grudges or misunderstandings accumulated during battle were all entangled.

For Eugene, however, it was little more than watching a fire ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠across the sea.

"Do you know that the nobility of the Emperor Faction are grateful to you, my lord?"

Cassandra said as she took tea with Eugene.

Through the dark elf petty kingdoms established on the continent, she received reliable information. That was why she often discussed the political situation with Eugene.

"That's surprising. They'd have no reason to like me."

"You cut off the money and time the emperor was pouring into the Wandering Castle, didn't you? The emperor himself may be raging over losing his treasure, but the nobles are not. Their priority is focusing on the war they face."

"What about the margraves? Both the Emperor Faction and the Noble Faction must want to draw them in by now."

As befitted Roman, which possessed the largest territory, it bordered more than one rival kingdom.

There existed many lords who had been granted privileges to defend the homeland and had fostered powerful military forces. They were a higher tier version of Baron Lester under Eugene.

If the margraves were to leave their posts, foreign invasions could occur. That was why they fundamentally declared neutrality in the civil war.

"Countless envoys and bribes are going back and forth, so it looks like they're starting to get involved one by one."

"It'll get even messier, then."

"For foreigners, it's a golden opportunity to grab money."

Eugene's subordinates spent every day debating how to intervene in Roman's civil war and get their own share.

Haven was the greatest metropolis they had ever stayed in, and it overflowed with entertainments that could be bought with coin. Eugene's warriors sold their loot and spent the winter reveling and feasting heartily.

Then, perhaps because they had grown bored of playing, or because they had tasted glory under Eugene's command, everyone's bodies itched for action.

Roman was currently a pie ripe for the picking.

-There are many city-states friendly to the emperor! If we make a circuit tour and plunder them, we'll earn enough money for three generations to live on without working!

-How about getting hired by the Noble Faction, if we're going anyway?

-What, you want the Castle Lord to serve under some other noble?

-It's a waste to do good for others for free, isn't it? Wouldn't it be best to squeeze money from both sides?

-Uh, hmm...

But Eugene had no intention of intervening yet. In his view, the civil war needed more time to ripen.

The emperor's army was still mighty, and the margraves were a variable.

Though Eugene was riding a streak of victories, he could not take them lightly. His army was built around tightly knit kin groups of dark elves and dwarves, so recovering from a major loss would be difficult.

-Ahaha! Castle Lord! Please look here!

-I've made a necklace from flowers. Let me put it on you.

As his bonds with each of them were deep, Eugene too would feel heavy-hearted.

Of course, there was no reason to refuse a new expedition in itself. In these perilous times, the more battle experience the better, and with Eugene's stature only growing, he also needed a great deal of money.

And as it happened, Eugene had a place of interest.

"Roman can wait. My interest these days lies in the west."

"Isn't there nothing but sea there, Castle Lord?"

Contrary to her words, Cassandra's face was full of anticipation. Unlike other tribesfolk who shunned the sea, she had always yearned for it.

"There is definitely something out there."

Eugene said with conviction.

* * *

Officially, Britannia was the end of civilization, the westernmost country in the world.

But rumors that another world stretched beyond that fearsome ocean were constantly spun.

And there also existed considerable circumstantial evidence that was hard to ignore.

"A week ago, a fisherman on the coast picked it up and offered it."

"What is this?"

Cassandra looked puzzled as she studied the large fruit Eugene handed her. It resembled an avocado, but was nearly the size of a human head.

"I don't know."

"Pardon?"

"No one knows. Neither the alchemy guild, learned in all kinds of plants, nor the merchants of the Hanseatic League, who deal in every sort of crop, have any idea. And yet it washed up on the western shore of Britannia."

"Ah!"

What this signified was simple.

"What's more, there's a witness. One who says that beyond the savage and perilous western ocean, there lies dry land."

"Aren't such tales common? Sailors' tall tales are worse than mercenaries'."

"The witness wasn't a sailor. It was a mermaid, no less."

"...Good heavens."

Monsters and demi-humans were not confined to the land. They also existed in the sea.

The vast majority were hostile to human civilization, but there were cases where, through the guidance of fate, minimal conversation had been possible.

"Even so, it's hard to believe a mermaid."

"I don't trust it entirely, either. But between a sailor who says he saw a new continent and a sailor who tells the story of a mermaid who saw a new continent—if I had to choose one, the latter is a little more believable."

A mermaid would be able to explore far beyond what humans could, avoiding storms, doldrums, and sea monster attacks.

Moreover, there was the testimony of the captain who had failed to pioneer a sea route from Sicily.

-There is a vast land beyond, beyond anything we could imagine. Countless gold mines lie sleeping, and milk and honey flow...

It was a tale beyond the ocean woven from various conjectures, legends, and rumors, none of which could be trusted a hundred percent.

But if it succeeded, they could obtain a land that guaranteed immense wealth and prosperity.

"Normally, this kind of long-distance expedition has too many obstacles to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠overcome. The investment is enormous, you have to go far from your family, and when things go wrong, it's hard to turn back."

"But we are the exception."

Cassandra smiled.

The Magic Castle where they lived provided safe passage and retreat into any unknown world.

"All we need is a single painting."

Those who had already received Eugene's orders were scouring every landscape painting in Britannia.

A picture that contained a clue to what lay beyond the sea—or a way to get there.

* * *

"It is the Land of Snow, Your Excellency."

Some time later, Eugene received a landscape painting covered in pure white snow from a hired adventurer.

It was the northwestern part of Britannia, a large country entirely blanketed in snow and ice. Though that was only 4% of its territory—people lived only in the greenbelt at the southernmost tip.

"The Land of Snow is barren in the extreme. That only makes its people yearn all the more for dry, snow-free ground."

"But to the south is Britannia, and to the southeast the lands of the vikings. It must have been hard to gain a foothold in either direction?"

Those who live in barren lands are said to be strong, but that, too, has its limits. When the barrenness is so severe that it hinders the development of civilization, they simply become a suffering people.

"Because the lands already all have owners. So they pinned their hopes on the west."

"And did they achieve anything?"

"Only legends. But all those who upheld those legends insisted that their stories were true. They left behind many pictures as proof."

No great stout ship, no charted route, no outstanding navigator was needed. A picture of an unknown world—that alone was the sole guide Eugene desired.

"The painting Your Excellency seeks will be in the Land of Snow. If it cannot be found there, it cannot be found anywhere."

"You've done well."

Eugene tossed a money pouch, and the adventurer withdrew, deeply honored.

An adventure different from all the journeys he had undertaken so far awaited him. Eugene felt a tingling in his fingertips.

'I guess I was born with wanderlust, too.'

His mother, his master, even his friends in the Black Hand Tribe—neither Eugene nor those around him seemed to have temperaments content to stay in one place.

End

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