New World Briefing
"Your enthusiasm is good, but calm down. If I go and find it's untenable, I'll be back straight away."
"Yes? Y-yes?!"
Octo was flustered by Eugene, who spoke of a life-or-death, extreme long-distance expedition as casually as a stroll around the neighborhood.
"I understand that your head must be a complicated place. A voyage that could drag on no one knows how long, dangerous seas and pirates, tempests, pay running in arrears, food and materiel, the soldiers' stress, the risk of mutiny because of it. Am I missing anything?"
"I believe you have covered nearly everything. Except for scurvy."
"That will be fine. Scurvy won't exist under my command."
Eugene grinned.
"Those ordinary risk factors don't apply to my army. Local supply and combat. We only need to worry about those two."
Eugene wasn't exactly setting out for the New Continent with suicidal resolve. He was doing it simply because the return was high compared to the risk.
A land free from the power dynamics of the Old Continent, new crops or livestock, gold and treasure, and one more thing.
-Among the primitive tribes, there are those who have inherited secrets and knowledge from time immemorial. If I were to venture a guess, should there exist any being that could restore my squire's voice, it would be none other than them.
Even Homi's voice.
The rewards that could potentially be reaped were far too numerous. They were not the sort of thing that could be obtained by effort in the Old Continent.
"My lord. I am so lacking that I cannot even fathom your words."
"You will understand when you see my castle. If I were to explain now, you would have to nod along while not believing me."
Eugene turned his gaze to Sadet.
"My business here is finished. Would you kindly sell this painting?"
"Sell it? Please, simply take it."
Sadet smiled and gestured as if to say, take it with you.
"I will likely never return to this place. Nor does it seem that you, in your old age, will ever leave this land."
"It is not that I am particularly trying to curry your favor, my lord. It is gratitude for easing this old woman's fears."
She was referring to the conversation about what became of a witch's soul.
"Then I shall not refuse and accept."
At Eugene's glance, Octo gathered up the painting.
"You know where the hidden goods are stashed, yes? The old woman can have it all."
"May I truly?"
"I've washed my hands of it now, so I have no need for such things. Nor do I have the leisure to clean it all up and haul it away."
Octo's steps as he turned away were lighter than they had ever been in his life.
When he told his family in Britannia where he had found employment, they would absolutely never believe it. Even Octo himself still felt as if in a dream.
* * *
A few days later, Eugene marshaled his troops and marched them home. Now that he had collected all the paintings with Dry City's cooperation, remaining any longer was pointless.
And so, when they arrived before the Magic Castle after crossing the snowfields, Octo's face went blank.
The colossal structure devoured the blizzard crashing against it and arrogantly looked down upon its surroundings.
"I have seen the fountain of Bonyard. The legends were true."
"Then how else would I have come here? Leading an army of this size, no less."
Eugene dismounted from Might. He smacked the beast's rump, sending him toward the stable's main gate, which began to open.
"Grrr—!"
At the captain's return, the listless atmosphere of the stable instantly bristled to attention.
The other warriors also filed into the castle, savoring the satisfaction of having come home. At the sight, Octo nodded.
"I believe I now know why my lord's army remained so steadfast even in a harsh and foreign land."
The reason Eugene's warriors maintained high morale throughout their campaigns was not simply because they were tough or loyal.
"Brothers! We've beer ready, so come to the hall once you've unpacked!"
"Our girl has worked hard! Is there anything you'd like to eat?"
It was that the home they would return to was never far away. That once the mission was complete, they could immediately see the friends and family who would welcome them.
It was because that belief easily pushed aside the oppressive weight of a strange and hostile foreign land.
"Sir Knight! Welcome back!"
"You're lucky if you find a single rabbit even after galloping for ages out here. Let us leave this godforsaken place at once!"
Rex and the tribal warriors beneath him gave Eugene a fervent welcome. They had been cooped up in the castle in this frozen land and were itching to move.
Teaching the young men preparing to enlist or lifting iron in the training hall was not enough.
They wished to ride at Eugene's side in a warm region, and quickly at that. Then their faces, alight with anticipation, twisted the moment they saw the white hide fluttering behind him.
"Yeti!"
"Damn it all! I knew I should have followed you after all!"
The warriors wore faces as if they couldn't bear the injustice of missing a hunt for a rare mid-grade monster they had only ever seen in records.
For the chance to hunt one would not come again once they left the Snow Country, due to the nature of its habitat.
"Sir Knight, can we not stay just a few more days?"
"The area has already been picked clean. It will be at least half a year before another yeti descends from the north."
"Ugh."
It was simply impossible to suggest they wait until then.
"There will be another expedition soon, so let everyone focus on that instead."
Eugene had to push the tribal warriors aside by force as they stared at him like abandoned puppies, still holding onto their lingering attachment.
He passed straight through the audience chamber and stood before the Core. He laid out the paintings he had brought and inspected them in sequence. The forgeries piled up, one after another, yielding no response.
Flash!
Only the jungle landscape that Octo had brought showed Eugene a vision connected to the New World.
As he watched the phantoms flickering as if begging to be seized, Eugene's eyes narrowed.
The destination, which had grown far more vivid and real to him than the painting, radiated an atmosphere that was anything but easy.
* * *
"I am glad you were able to produce results. I was worried you might return disappointed."
"It nearly came to that. Through good fortune, I saved a condemned man just before his execution, and through that connection was able to find the genuine painting."
"That is a remarkable connection in its own right. Or perhaps it would be better to call it fate?"
Eugene and his wife were taking in the scenery of the snowfields from an open observatory.
Though Varda was vulnerable to the cold, she was fine now. She had her husband's arms to openly take shelter in. She was receiving his warmth, her back pressed against Eugene's chest.
"Is this scenery to your liking?"
"It is pleasant enough for a brief stay, but I would not wish to remain long. The energy of nature here is far too faint."
Varda cupped a hand to her long ear. Yet the only thing that reached her was the sound of the harsh wind.
When she was in Britannia or the Continent, she could always hear the whisper of nature to her.
When she woke in the morning and stretched, the new sprouts raising their heads out of the soil, just as she did, would greet her.
The chirping of a bird pleased with the first insect of the morning.
The squirrels poking their heads out of a secret burrow, communicating with their friends to see if everyone had made it safely through the night.
In this frozen land, those familiar, affectionate sounds could not be found.
'Nor does she seem particularly taken with the gifts I brought along.'
The specialties he had collected from Hakon's domain all the way to Dry City held little charm.
That stood to reason, since most of what was classified as luxury goods in the Snow Country were things imported from Britannia anyway.
If he had to name one, perhaps it would be ambergris?
-Should you desire fragrance, tell me anything. I shall blend what you favor and give you the supreme pleasure of it.
But the mage of the forest could craft scents that defied all comparison with ambergris and the like.
"When will you depart?"
"I will rest just a little longer. The next place we are exploring is a jungle. Dwarf warriors will again be the main force here, so they must take sufficient rest."
With cavalry effectively out of the question, they would have to operate mainly as infantry. Their shorter stature was also an advantage, since every footstep required care.
"Do not worry. I shall be at your side."
"It will be different from anything before."
"Do you not trust your wife and court mage? The forest is my domain."
Perhaps slightly wounded in her pride, Varda shot him a sidelong look, but it crumbled immediately before a stolen kiss.
"Honestly! You have picked up a bad habit since we married. Constantly trying to smooth things over with your body like this."
"And yet why are you lifting your heels?"
"...Quiet."
After holding his wife tightly in his arms to his heart's content, Eugene continued in a serious tone.
"It isn't that I doubt your abilities. It is simply because this place called the jungle that we're going to is truly no ordinary place."
"Is the forest that savage?"
"Even the word savage falls short. It is the most densely packed place of life in the entire world."
"That sounds like a good thing, though."
"The problem is that all of that life is starving. It is a place where plants devour plants, and insects bring down beasts."
At present, the only two in the Wandering Castle who had experienced the jungle were Eugene and Octo.
No matter how powerful his army was, no one could know what dangers they might face in an environment they had never once encountered.
Fortunately, Eugene was well acquainted with the cases of armies that had met disaster in a jungle.
As long as the overall commander possessed the will to be careful, it was a rule that most dangers could be avoided in advance.
"My lord. The item you ordered has been completed."
Just then, the handmaidens brought forth a pure white fur coat.
"That... could it be?"
"You recognized it at once. It is made of yeti leather."
The coat radiated an air of mystique, its pure white fur as if retaining the very luster of the snowfields. It was less a garment than it was a treasure in its own right.
"It was made from the youngest yeti we hunted. Only one coat could be crafted from it."
As with all leather, the younger the beast, the finer the quality. At her husband's sweet whisper, Varda drew her shoulders in slightly.
Varda the sorceress and Varda the woman. Both of her inner selves were being drawn intensely toward the coat before her eyes.
-There isn't a woman alive who dislikes fur.
Cassandra's counsel had proven true indeed.
"I prepared it for you, Varda-nim. Please accept it."
"...It is a gift too extravagant for me. And indulging in luxury would hardly set a proper example."
Varda stroked the coat with trembling hands. Despite her words of demurral, it was plain to see she was utterly taken with it.
"It isn't luxury. It's the spoils of the hunt."
"You're playing with words."
"I felled a yeti, stripped its hide, and had this made. It's simply a more refined version of that ancient history—when a caveman husband hunted a beast and draped its pelt over his wife's shoulders."
Eugene settled the fur coat over Varda's shoulders.
"It truly suits you beautifully."
"How shall I ever repay so precious a gift?"
"That's simple enough. Tonight, come to bed wearing only this."
"...Ugh."
Varda's face flushed crimson as she gave a small, quiet nod. Married life was, in truth, one of humanity's greatest treasures.
* * *
Two days later, close to a thousand warriors assembled within the Wandering Castle's great hall. Since the appointed hour had not yet arrived, each was passing the time in their own fashion.
Some sat in the arranged chairs with arms folded and eyes closed.
A dark elf and a dwarf decurion tested their skills at unarmed grappling.
Onlookers wagered on the two combatants.
A proud father boasted of his daughter, born just days before.
A warrior gazed contentedly at a whale-bone-handled dagger he had purchased in the Snow Country.
The women of the Caracal special forces compared their freshly dyed nails.
It was a military unit and a home all at once, and so discipline and vitality always coexisted at a high pitch.
"Ten-hut!"
Someone caught sight of Eugene striding into the hall alongside Octo and called out.
At once the low murmur evaporated, and every person ceased what they were doing. Even the two warriors locked in a ground grapple scrambled hastily to their feet.
"Commander entering! Company—attention!"
The formal drill Eugene had taught and ingrained over two years was now wholly absorbed, regardless of race.
"At ease."
At Eugene's word, they all seated themselves in orderly fashion in the chairs prepared for them.
Gulp.
Beside Eugene, watching that flawless display of military form, Octo felt his lips go utterly dry.
'An army beyond all reason!'
Their individual martial prowess and equipment were already at a level that shattered common sense, but what stood out most of all was their discipline.
"Drink and ease your nerves."
"Thank you."
The ever-observant Eugene noticed and handed over a canteen. Octo wet his mouth.
But when the two of them ascended the dais and the heavy gaze of veteran warriors fell upon him, his lips immediately went dry again.
"Octo, you will accompany this expedition as a special advisor. You've been provisionally granted the authority to issue corrective orders to any one of them. If anyone gets out of line, tell me. I'll personally see to straightening out their manners. If you spot something that needs improving, correct it on the spot."
"Ah-ha... ha-ha... I, I shall strive to do my best."
'I must be losing my mind.'
It was a rise in station so meteoric that his fellow smugglers—retired early, whether of their own will or otherwise—would have been struck dumb with shock. Though the man himself felt crushed under the weight of it all.
"Ladies and gentlemen."
Eugene spoke into a megaphone shaped like a brass horn but magnified tenfold.
"Our destination this time is an unknown world. A continent that hasn't even been given a name yet. You all understand what that means. What is the enemy we must be most wary of?"
"The unpredictable foe!"
When Eugene set the tone, the entire force answered in one voice. At that thunderous resonance, Octo found himself stepping back a pace without even realizing it.
"This man Octo is the only one among us who is a seasoned maritime expert with firsthand experience of that very region. Even apart from that place, he possesses extensive experience with jungle terrain. It's the strength of a man who survived thirty years as a smuggler. Treat him with respect for the entirety of this expedition."
"J-just a moment, Your Excellency."
Octo flinched and whispered, aghast that Eugene had so openly declared him a criminal, but his worry was for nothing.
'What's his deal?'
'Is he an adventurer the Castle Lord hired?'
'He looks awfully shabby, though.'
The warriors who, though they dared not show scorn since Eugene himself had brought the man, had nonetheless been eyeing him with skeptical doubt—their gazes shifted all at once to expressions of genuine admiration.
"Have you ever heard the saying that killing one makes you a murderer, but killing a thousand makes you a hero?"
"Yes, it's a well-known phrase."
"The same principle applies. Surviving thirty years in the smuggling trade as an active operative is qualification enough to be called a great navigator. Your crimes have been pardoned in my name, and we respect skills that others do not possess."
Even beyond this expedition, his counsel would play a significant role in any matter connected to the sea or the world's darker affairs.
Since he was a man with no standing whatsoever within the castle, it was best that Eugene lend him authority with his own words in a setting such as this.
"The jungle is not the same as a forest. Take a single wrong step, and the ground will try to swallow you whole. A carelessly swallowed mouthful of water can invite a deadly assassin into your body."
Parasitic infection was the part Eugene most dreaded.
"Before you take a step, ascertain whether what you are about to tread on is soil, a bog, or the tail of a sleeping serpent. The air is heavy and humid, so the scent you give off will carry far and draw anything to your position. Trying to remain concealed in movement will not be enough."
Dampness did not merely mean oppressive heat that sapped one's stamina. It broadcast the friendly force's location to keen-sensed enemies at every moment.
"Keep constant vigilance, but never forget that the same vigilance applies to your own bodies. Leeches and venomous insects may latch onto you, or you may contract an endemic disease. Inspect one another's bodies at regular intervals. If even the slightest abnormal symptom appears, go to the medical unit at once."
Where Eugene pointed sat the tribal witches, attired in the dress of medics.
Eugene had wished to assign one to each decuria, but even after drawing upon their trainees, that had proved impossible.
"The jungle swallows those who move too slowly, but it drives those who hurry into death all the swifter. Always keep pace with the special forces."
Eugene indicated Cassandra and the female warriors drawn up in a line to one side.
Masters of the rogue's art, they were always a reliable force in irregular combat. And unlike the witches, they were far more numerous.
After that, it was Octo's turn.
"In the place I traveled to, there were two principal kinds of natives. One resembles the feline beastkin, and the other resembles the small-folk of Samur."
He said "resembles" because they were subspecies. It was hardly strange, considering that entire, wholly distinct ecosystems had taken shape in isolation across the vast ocean.
"The feline beastkin are open to negotiation. Some tribes are hostile, but the ones our crew encountered exchanged gifts with us. They also introduced us to a region where there are gold deposits."
"Gold!"
"So the rumors were true?"
Brief exclamations of wonder burst out from every side. The dwarves were especially roused. More than the gold itself, it was the prospect of being able to work a gold mine that made their fingers itch with eagerness.
"The small-folk, however, are exceedingly dangerous. All those who pressed inland in search of gold after landing ended up inside their bellies, every last one. Only myself and a handful of comrades barely managed to flee with our lives."
Just then, a centurion raised a hand. Octo pointed a finger at him and nodded.
"Go ahead and speak."
"I've heard there's an extremely large river there. Could we source water and provisions from it?"
"I wouldn't recommend it. The water is murky and swarms with dangerous creatures. Be especially wary of a serpent that can swallow a man whole in a single gulp. It's a formidable swimmer, so you cannot escape it by taking to the water."
"Madness..."
After that, they actively discussed a host of fine details: descriptions of the other monsters they had discovered, the adjustment of preserved rations and armor in response to the humidity and heat.
Octo selected those raising their hands from all around and answered their questions.
To think that he was deciding who among these fearsome warriors—men he would not have dared meet the eyes of just a week ago—could speak. Octo found he did not dislike this unfamiliar sensation.
"Bring along socks and towels in at least double your usual supply, and dry your feet at every rest period. One of my comrades had his foot rot away and had to have it cut off."
By the time some while had passed, all his tension had vanished, and he was expansively recounting his experiences with an air of enjoyment.
It was because not a single soul belittled him as a mere smuggler. Every one of them treated him with proper courtesy and listened intently.
This attitude of respect for expertise was yet another of the fruits Eugene had diligently instilled over those two years, alongside the formal military drill.
* * *
With all preparations complete, Eugene bade farewell to the Snow Country, to which he had grown somewhat attached during their brief stay.
The Wandering Castle vanished from the shining white snowfield, whipping up a ferocious blizzard in its wake.
-What is that?
-We wished to leave some trace that we had passed through here.
What they left behind was two great snowmen, carefully erected in a place sheltered from the wind.
-But why did you set them apart from each other?
-Wait just a moment, my Lord!
-You'll break them doing that!
-Look, see how fine they look, nestled together as if arm in arm.
The snowmen the dwarves and dark elves had vied so eagerly to build now sat close together in harmony, the drag marks of their relocation still plain on the ground.
It was a trifle regrettable, though, that the scarf draped around them both sat at a slant on account of the difference in their heights.
End
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