I've Been to That Continent!
I've Been to That Continent!
Dry City, the sole ice-free port of the Snow Country, was in the midst of a festival.
"Please, mercy!"
"I will serve this city for life! Only spare me!"
A festival called execution, that is.
Stripped bare, the criminals shivered atop the platform in the square. With both hands bound to the post above their heads, they could not even curl up to retain a minimum of body heat.
"Aagh!"
Each time a passerby hurled a stone, a pitiful scream resounded.
In an era short on amusements, such a show was the finest entertainment. The Snow Country's method was to hang them naked in the square and leave them to freeze to death.
"Everyone! Not only are these wretches foul of heart, but their bodies are filthy as well. The stench is unbearable! They certainly need a washing, do they not?"
"Hear, hear! Hear, hear!"
To the cheers of the crowd, a city councilor approached with a bucket full of water.
"Ah, no! Please!"
The outermost prisoner wept and twisted his body. The onlookers cheered and jeered at the pitiful sight.
"If you keep still, your comrades beside you won't get splashed!"
"Sacrifice your one body to protect them all."
The winter that year was a rather stubborn one. The weather was such that ice remained frozen solid everywhere even though spring had come.
Fwhooooo!
Moreover, Dry City was a place that caught the sea wind head-on. Soaked through, the prisoners would become motionless sculptures by the next morning.
But it seemed today was not fated for death.
"Count Meyer has arrived!"
The city guard alerted them that Eugene's army had appeared outside.
* * *
"Still no entry permit?"
"I-I am deeply sorry!"
The captain of the city guard, who had come out in person to meet them, bowed at a ninety-degree angle. So tense was he that a cold sweat could be seen trickling down his neck.
Eugene was equally disconcerted. He had not expected a warm welcome, but never imagined he would be refused at the very entrance.
"After the council received word of Your Excellency's visit, they have been in continuous debate."
"Still undecided? Is there some problem?"
"W-Well, that is..."
The captain of the guard could not bring himself to speak the truth.
-Does it make any sense to come all the way here from Britannia to acquire a mere painting? And landing a great army to do it? It is surely a lie. A feint aimed at conquest, I say!
He could not say that some among the council suspected Eugene of being an invader.
Only two of the nine councilors were suspicious, but by the nature of a free city, a unanimous vote was required for an external army to enter.
Even now, with the army arrived before the city, arguments were raging back and forth.
"The texture of the walls is curious. Were they built from mud?"
"...Yes, Your Excellency."
The captain of the guard grew restless watching Eugene stroke his chin as he surveyed the walls, for the manner of inspection felt much like reconnaissance before a siege.
Due to its barren environment, Dry City's walls were low and its fortifications soft. If the dwarf army before their eyes charged in, they would not hold for many days.
Fortunately, the debate in the council was drawing to a close.
"It is said that at every territory he passed through, gifts were exchanged in warm and amicable fashion."
"And that is not all. In Chief Hakon's territory, he subjugated yetis; in Chief Shulain's domain, he slew a direbear. That is precisely why everyone is clamoring to host the Count."
Those who wished to receive Eugene and entertain him were fiercely pressing the opposition.
"No matter how I consider it, the notion that he came merely to collect paintings is simply..."
"Blast it! Let us forget the damned paintings! What does it matter if he has another purpose? He must have circumstances too difficult to speak of. What could possibly entice a great lord of his stature to covet a city at the very edge of the world!"
Common sense dictated that if Eugene wanted more territory, he would already be waging a war of unification in Britannia.
Possessing this far-flung city would only bring administrative hardship with nothing to gain compared to the effort.
"Open the gates at once. He stands among the true powers of Britannia. How can you do this, with no thought for how we will answer for it later?"
"We may not be desperate for him, but if trade with him is severed, we are finished!"
Seventy percent of the Snow Country's foreign trade was conducted with southern Britannia.
This was because commerce was developed there, the land's productivity was excellent, and one could travel there via the safer western sea route.
Eastern Britannia, Gord, Barsia, and the other petty kingdoms were also decent trading partners. But trading with them required passing through the eastern sea route, which swarmed with pirates and Vikings.
"Very well! I shall simply agree, shall I not!"
With the opposition faction declaring surrender, Eugene was able to enter the city.
* * *
"The meeting ran long, I take it?"
"I have committed a mortal sin! To have made Your Excellency shiver in the cold—were I to strip off my clothes at once and hang myself in that square, it would not be enough to..."
"I am not angry, so calm yourself."
"Your grace is boundless!"
Saman, the trade guild master who came out as the representative of the council, comported himself with an excess of deference. Though a man of considerable standing in the city, he threw himself flat into the snow and pressed his face to the ground.
"Enough, now rise."
"I am far too ashamed."
When Eugene raised him up, hot tears were streaming down his face, courtesy of the eye drops he had applied in advance.
"Such repentance is sufficient."
Eugene instinctively recognized it as a performance but elected to let the matter pass.
The time he had waited outside amounted to a mere thirty minutes. Eugene soothed his subordinates, who had been glaring at the city with murderous intent.
Breaking things was one matter, but searching required cooperation that sprang willingly from the hearts of the locals.
"Who are those hanged in the square?"
Thus he changed the subject by gesturing toward the conspicuous sight.
"They are the condemned. I have shown Your Excellency the sight of these filthy wretches. I shall have them removed at once."
"What crime did they commit?"
"They are pirates."
"They deserve to die, then. Leave them hanging. This place surely has its own order to uphold."
Pirates were considered the vilest among all criminals.
"But is that one not too old to have made a living as a pirate?"
Amidst pirates ranging from their twenties to forties, there stood one man alone who appeared to be in his sixties.
"That one is a smuggler. He was captured by the pirates, and the council decided to dispose of him alongside them."
To men of power, the difference between a pirate and a smuggler was merely that between a cockroach that bites and a cockroach that does not.
"If permitted, I would like to speak with that man."
"Understood."
Saman refrained from asking the obvious question: 'What could Your Excellency wish to discuss with such a base fellow?'
If told to do it, he did it.
If curious, he held his tongue.
This was the prudent way to deal with a great noble.
* * *
After enjoying the ceremonial banquet, both sides promptly turned to the matter at hand.
"We have gathered what Your Excellency spoke of in advance."
"I shall remember the city's kindness."
Though the council had agonized over whether to admit Eugene's army, concerning the preparation of gifts, they had been unanimous from the very beginning.
Displayed in the large room to which Eugene was guided were artworks related to the new continent beyond the ocean.
-We don't know what the Count truly wants, so just sweep up everything and bring it!
There were not only paintings but also sculptures and various objects that were claimed to have been brought from the new continent.
At a gesture from Eugene, the mercenaries gathered only the paintings into one place. Their number drew close to twenty.
"Hmm."
"I-Is there some problem?"
As Eugene scanned the paintings with a puzzled expression, Saman fidgeted with his fingers.
"The landscapes are far too varied."
A paradise filled with warm wheat fields.
A highland choked with rock.
A beautiful forest.
A desert where not a trace of life could be found.
A snowy plain identical to the Snow Country.
The scenes were far too individual to have been painted of the same location.
"The terrain may differ depending on the landing site, but this is too much."
"Ahaha... haha..."
'You damn braggarts!'
Too busy to inspect the works beforehand, Saman cursed the families that had provided the paintings.
These paintings had been rendered by explorers of ages past who claimed to have discovered the new continent and had brought them back as proof.
Whether they were genuine or false could not be known. Yet they had been praised as great achievements regardless.
-The paper looks far too new for a painting said to be half a year old.
-Hush! Lower your voice and just give it some applause.
Those capable of mounting an ocean expedition were mostly from powerful families. Even when suspicions arose, it was necessary to preserve their dignity to a proper degree.
The problem had arisen because the paintings had been gathered en masse from such families.
Of course, Eugene had held no expectations from the start, and so he merely accepted it as such.
"As previously communicated, may I purchase these paintings? I shall pay a fair price."
"Who would dare refuse the honor of aiding Your Excellency?"
The sum Eugene offered was a windfall to the local families. With so many fallen houses among them, there was none who would refuse if they could receive gold coins.
Just then, a commotion broke out from outside.
"Catch that man!"
"He is heading to where His Excellency is!"
These were the alarmed voices of the dwarves.
"W-Wait! Do not shoot, take him alive! His Excellency said he has questions for him!"
"Ah, damn! Why the hell is he so fast on his feet?!"
Homi drew her dagger and stepped in front of Eugene. Before her, the mercenaries acting as guards had formed a wall.
Bang!
The door flew open as if about to break apart, and the one who appeared was the smuggler who had been hanging in the square.
"You insolent wretch! How dare you make a disturbance in front of His..."
"I have been to that continennnnnt!!!"
Saman's thunderous rebuke was drowned out by the smuggler's roar, which was several times louder.
The dwarf warriors who charged in a moment later slammed the smuggler to the ground.
In that brief span, the smuggler smiled, for he had caught the young great lord's expression: a look of intense curiosity at his cry.
* * *
"My apologies, Your Excellency. Please dole out punishment."
The dwarf decurion who had been escorting the smuggler knelt down.
"You are warriors and engineers both. You have never escorted a prisoner before, so mistakes are possible. Let your future diligence absolve this error."
"But, Your Excellency!"
"Enough. Let this matter be raised no further."
The dwarf, his face a mixture of gratitude and profound regret, quietly withdrew.
Eugene regarded the smuggler. Seen from up close, the man did not seem so old after all.
His build was stout and his muscles solid; he appeared to be no more than fifty, at most. It seemed the long years of sun at sea had aged his face prematurely.
"You would have faced me anyway, so was there cause to force your way in like this?"
"I thought with a noble guest visiting, they would carry out the execution at once."
"A misunderstanding like that is possible, I suppose."
The smuggler wore a look of grievance. Had he only stayed still, he would have been brought face-to-face with Eugene in due course—instead, he had committed a grave discourtesy.
-Could the new continent truly exist?
-His Excellency must surely have his own thoughts on the matter.
-...!
Overhearing the dwarves' conversation during his transport, he had deemed this his final chance and had bolted headlong.
"Those fellows are not so lax. How did you manage to escape?"
Eugene set aside his questions about the new continent for the moment, for a deep interest in the smuggler before him had been kindled.
Instead of answering, the smuggler showed him his hands. His wrists dangled loosely, the joints dislocated.
"Ah, that method. I've been in your debt to that technique in the past as well. Looks like you strained yourself in a hurry to free your hands."
Grinning, Eugene took hold of the smuggler's wrist.
"This will hurt a bit, so bite down hard."
Crack! With that sound, the dislocated part snapped back into place in an instant.
"H-How do you know this technique?"
The smuggler had no time to feel the pain in his wrist. He was too shocked that a great nobleman, exuding an air of high class, knew a rogue's skill.
"Your name?"
"I am Octopus. My associates call me Octo for short."
The eyes of the mercenaries standing guard changed.
"Looks like this bastard's also a mercenary."
"Out of all the nicknames to pick, you went with a damned octopus?"
When the mercenaries took animal names as aliases, they preferred species that were swift, venomous, or gave off some other dangerous impression.
But even as they mocked him, Octo remained unruffled.
"Having spent long years at sea, I found no creature more cunning than the octopus. It hides well, has strong patience, knows how to deceive, and is clever."
Octo shrugged.
"A lowly creature, but one with much to learn from. That is why I decided to borrow its name."
"Oh! That actually makes sense."
The conversation was brief, but Eugene liked Octo. He seemed to catch a glimpse of the secret to how the man had survived so long in a dangerous line of work like smuggling.
"Where did you mainly operate?"
"There is no place a ship can reach that I have not been. That includes the continent beyond the great ocean, the one Your Excellency is interested in."
Octo was a dead man walking anyway, so he decided to gamble the wager of a lifetime.
"Among those paintings, is there a landscape you have seen?"
"Not at all. I cannot be certain they are fakes, but no, the landscape is not one I have witnessed."
Octo looked Eugene straight in the eye.
"I know where to find a genuine painting depicting the new continent."
"Good. If you guide me there, I will request amnesty in my name."
"Thank you!"
If the city had any sense, it would not be able to refuse the request of the Great Lord of southern Britannia. It went beyond a mere difference in power — it was a relationship of prime contractor and subcontractor, superior and subordinate.
"Thank you for sparing my life. My real name is..."
"Forget it. We must observe the unwritten rules of the mercenaries."
"You are merciful beyond measure."
It was astonishing enough that a great nobleman like Eugene knew the customs of lowly mercenaries, let alone respected them. And to a condemned man, no less.
"How did you end up captured by pirates?"
"I was betrayed."
"Betrayed? Does that mean you were in league with them?"
"No!"
Octo waved both hands in alarm.
"We worked together on occasion... but we were not in league."
"Is this bastard toying with His Excellency? Do you need to see blood to come to your senses?"
Eugene pushed back the fists the mercenaries thrust forward with murderous intent.
"I see you also dealt in fencing stolen goods."
"You are sharp."
Octo admitted it readily.
"I had pulled off a fairly big score and the ship was laden with goods. On our way back, we spotted some pirates I had known for a while. I got a little greedy, wondering if there was anything worth trading."
"You are a seasoned sailor. They must have been men you trusted enough to approach."
"There are no trustworthy pirates under heaven and earth."
The mercenaries nodded as if it were obvious. Mercenaries were the sort to sell out a comrade for a single silver coin, but compared to pirates, they were the most loyal men on the face of the earth.
"The only reason was that the pirate captain had been an acquaintance of mine for twenty years. Not someone I would entrust my life to, but I believed we were each the best in our respective fields. Yet when I boarded the ship, the captain had been replaced in the few months since I had last seen him."
Octo mimed stabbing someone in the back with the hand that held his dagger.
"Is that not common among pirates?"
"He was a man I dealt with precisely because he had not fallen to that common fate in twenty years."
"Those who do dangerous work need the wit to realize when their luck is running out."
Octo looked at Eugene with an odd expression. The man was clearly of an incomparably noble station, yet for some reason, he felt like a kindred spirit in the same trade.
"The new captain welcomed me fervently. In a single moment, I was stripped of my entire fortune and made a prisoner."
"Why didn't they kill you?"
"Because I was too useful. There are few who know the back channels of the sea better than I do."
"If you are useful to pirates, then you will be useful to me as well."
Eugene nodded.
"Have you any interest in working under me?"
"I am a smuggler and a fence. Would that truly be acceptable?"
It was an age when strict punitive policies were applied to crime, and among those, crimes that infringed upon a lord's rights were dealt with far more severely.
If you were caught secretly processing grain without passing through the lord's mill or gristmill, you faced harsh punishment.
Men like Octo, who smuggled themselves in and traded without paying taxes, were classified as felons more heinous than murderers.
"It was not done on my territory, so I have no cause for anger. Besides, it does not appear you have lived with blood on your hands."
"The only blood that has been on my hands is the blood of fish."
The response of a great lord, treating him with such smooth familiarity, was something Octo had never imagined in his entire life.
It was the greatest shock he had felt since he glimpsed the scales of a sea serpent slicing through the currents ten years ago.
"Are you truly granting me amnesty?"
"It would be more accurate to call it repayment than amnesty. That should sit more comfortably with you, no?"
"It certainly would."
"I have a variety of talented men, but none who are well-versed in the shadowed world and the sea."
Octo grinned.
"I am a man who has spent his life looking at the moon more than the sun. I have seen the moon reflected on the water more often than the one in the sky."
Living in the underworld, sometimes a single unimaginable stroke — a turning point to change one's entire life — would come along.
It might be a gold nugget stumbled upon by chance, or a piece of high-grade intelligence to be sold at a premium.
But for it to arrive in the form of a connection to nobility, as it had now, was rare.
And Octo had dreamed of such an opportunity his entire life. For he had a wife and children he wished to bequeath the light of the sunlit world.
"I shall guide you to where the painting is."
Octo spoke to Eugene, now his liege, with a manner even more deeply deferential than before.
"And just where do you intend to guide His Excellency?"
Saman, who had been standing by keeping quiet as a mouse, asked.
After all, if it was a painting unknown even to himself, with all the city's resources mobilized, then it was certain to be in a suspicious place.
"A witch who dwells in seclusion outside the city."
"A witch!"
With a look of I knew it!, Saman scolded Octo. For if Eugene took offense, it was obvious where the sparks would fly.
Though persecution had lessened now, in the distant past there had been times when witches were sent to the stake on sight.
Witches were whom poor nobles, unable to invite a mage, sought out as a desperate last resort.
"What would be a suitable gift? Give me a recommendation. Would she prefer medicinal herbs, I wonder?"
"Y-Your Excellency?!"
Thus, Eugene's pleased reaction was utterly beyond Saman's comprehension.
* * *
"Ever since she saved my life when I was stricken with scurvy, I have maintained our acquaintance."
"Sadet, was it?"
"That is correct."
"Judging by the name, she seems to be of Eastern origin. What circumstances brought her from one end of the world to the other?"
"I am not quite privy to..."
"Indeed, it is an unwritten rule not to pry into the pasts of those with many circumstances."
Eugene clapped Octo on the shoulder and laughed.
As they entered Sadet's dwelling, the scent of herbs and potions filled the air, as befitted a witch's hideout.
Cassandra and Homi, who had followed, kept twitching their noses. Analyzing and deconstructing the dozens of scents mixed with the mystic was, for them, a kind of puzzle game.
But the one sniffing the most here was the mistress of the house, Sadet herself.
She was an old woman with a face full of deep wrinkles, and to Eugene—who had only ever seen dark elves for whom "witch" might as well be read "beauty"—the stereotypical sight was almost refreshing.
"A noble guest has come to this humble place."
"You are unusually polite today?"
Octo found it puzzling.
The Sadet he knew was an old crone who had gathered and lumped together every ounce of ill temper in the world. Having lived a full life, she also possessed the nerve typical of the elderly who feel they have nothing left to lose, which only made matters worse.
But Sadet had her reasons.
'To think such an impossible being existed!'
Sadet had witnessed the mystic aura of her workshop, concentrated over decades with countless magical ingredients, be driven out in a single breath.
It was like a single shark suddenly appearing and scattering thousands of small fish.
"Look here, Octo. I am a witch."
"You're stating the obvious as if it's..."
"When I die, I shall surely fall into hell. That is an inevitability, and I have already prepared myself for it."
Octo was taken aback in front of Sadet, who was speaking weakly, unlike her usual self. Had the old hag's time truly come?
"However, the guest you have escorted here is someone who could cast me into the most harrowing depths of that very hell. Most likely, that is."
If possible, Sadet hoped her soul would be tossed to the outskirts of hell rather than its center.
"Unlike the lovely young witch lady beside me, I am not beautiful, you see."
Sadet looked at Cassandra with envy. It was not her youth or beauty she envied, but the protection and blessing she would receive from Eugene.
"You misunderstand. Being a witch does not mean one falls into hell."
"Is that so? If those are empty words, you needn't trouble yourself to speak them."
"You may believe it. For no one feared that more than I did."
Eugene recalled his happy childhood in Kingdom's End.
-Repent before God! Lest your soul face judgment!
Even the slander the priests had heaped upon his mother out of jealousy, for she was popular as an apothecary.
"When my mother passed away in my arms, I was terrified she might depart for some dreadful place."
Even Eugene, who feared nothing, had at that time been steeped in sorrow and dread, shedding tears.
"But my mother departed for a peaceful place. As befitted the life she had lived."
It seemed this was an answer neither had expected, as both Octo and Sadet opened their eyes wide.
Whether they did or not, Eugene focused on a painting placed in one corner of the witch's dwelling.
"Is that it?"
"Yes! Your Excellency!"
The painting was filled with nature. But it was not the nature of beautiful mountains or verdant forests.
It was of venomous insects, toxic plants, mist-choked air, murky river water, sharp-toothed fish, and even a great snake swallowing one of those fish whole.
The painting depicted not a gold rush full of dreams and hope, but a green hell: a jungle.
"We were caught in a storm and swept far south of our original route. But in that place were natives laden with gold! I swear it upon my soul!"
Seeing Eugene's disappointment, Octo hastily added.
"You would do well not to swear such oaths in front of this one."
Sadet muttered uneasily.
End
ⓒ Gusojae#1wecx