Conquistador (1)
In every transmission until now, there had always been residents clustered together in the lobby.
The children's exclamations that rang out the moment the main gate opened and a new world appeared. The adorable sight of them riding on their mothers' hips or their fathers' shoulders, eyes sparkling.
It was a routine where not a single element could be omitted. It was Eugene's consideration, meant to provide his beloved subjects with memories both great and small.
"We have come to a world never recorded in history."
But this time was different. The lobby was filled only with soldiers.
"Do not think of yourselves as hunters or invaders. That is a right granted only when you hold a clear advantage over the enemy. Having just arrived here, we are nothing more than strangers."
Ruuuumble—.
The main gate began to open slowly.
"So all of you, keep your wits sharp."
Beyond the pouring sunlight, an estuary where the sea and a river met came into view.
The rushing, murky gray river water formed a perfect boundary on the left, and the blue sea on the right. It was truly a spectacle.
The golden fishing grounds formed by the meeting of the different waters teemed with fish. The sight of seabirds targeting them, flying through the sky and then plunging toward the water's surface, happened to appear right at that moment.
"Mom! Mom! Can't I go out? I want to see it up close!"
"Stop whining. We didn't come here to play."
The non-combatants gathered together on the open upper terrace and looked outside.
The mothers, with bows and arrows kept close at hand, surveyed the outside with sharp eyes. It was because a flying creature might attack at any moment.
"It's been a while. This reminds me of the old days."
"You're right, Mother. Lately I've felt my senses growing dull, so tightening up like this once in a while is good."
When they had been wandering in Roman, there had been almost no distinction between daily life and sentry duty. That was because bandit raids, monsters, or attacks by reckless lords could happen at any time.
Now, protected by sturdy castle walls, it was incomparably more cozy than those days. Yet on the other hand, there was a certain wistfulness about a warrior's senses growing dull.
In their gazes, Eugene could be seen taking his monumental first step.
"Not a bad location for a base camp."
The place where the Wandering Castle had come to rest was a hill plain. Being higher than elsewhere, it was advantageous for observing the surroundings.
The sea was quite a distance away, but the space between lay wide open with nothing to obstruct the view.
Ahead, an oppressively dense jungle stretched out endlessly.
A peculiar mist coiled around it in places, sometimes swaying unnaturally. As if stirred by the very breath of the jungle.
"■■■!"
"■■■ ■■..."
"■■? ■■?!"
Words Eugene had never heard before reached his ears. They were all dark elves and dwarves.
"Fuck, are you kidding me?"
Judging by their expressions, which were identical to those of the human mercenaries, it was probably profanity unique to their races.
It seemed to be vocabulary they didn't often use, but it coming out was perfectly understandable.
Because trees of enormous size soared up throughout the jungle, as if piercing the sky. They were of a size that made even sequoia trees look laughable.
Countless vines were entangled everywhere, like the ropes rigged to a sailing ship's mast, connecting to the other trees below.
A troop of monkeys that had been traveling along the vines stared at the intruders with eyes mixed with fear.
"Screeeech—!"
Then, terrified by a giant monster bird that appeared in the sky, they fled. One of them missed its footing and plummeted, shrieking a long scream.
The monster bird, reminiscent of an argentavis, descended toward the spot where the monkey fell. As if it had no intention of missing the meat it had gained as a windfall.
"Varda-nim?"
"I am seeing this tree for the first time as well. Even the weeds here are entirely unfamiliar. As you said, the density of life is an absurd level."
Varda raised both hands with an expression that conceded defeat.
It was only natural. The jungle was a mad place where, despite occupying less than 10% of the land area, nearly 40% of all life was concentrated.
Everyone's moment of being spellbound was only brief. As befitted seasoned elite soldiers, they immediately focused on their tasks.
"Hammer Brotherhood engineers, advance!"
"We must clear away the trees in front before the day is out! Move!"
The dwarf warriors set down the hammers they cherished and picked up two-handed axes. It was to form a hostile kill zone in front of the Wandering Castle.
As it stood, the vegetation began as close as 10 meters from the front, making it unsuitable for a defensive perimeter.
A monster with monstrous leaping power could use the treetops as a springboard to jump over into the Wandering Castle.
Rampage, an axe slung over his shoulder, ran up to Eugene.
"How far should the kill zone extend?"
"Push it back to 50 meters outside the outpost."
"If blade squirrels inhabit this area, we should push back at least 100 meters, shouldn't we?"
They were monsters similar to flying squirrels, but with razor-sharp claws. Nocturnal, they silently glided down from the trees to ambush their prey.
"We'll have to compromise. If we start factoring in creatures like that, the workload will become endless."
Eugene pointed at the enormous trees.
"We can't clear it completely in the first place, because of those damned, gigantic trees."
"That is also true."
Amid the escort of dark elf archers, the sound of axes rang out raucously.
A large saw being pulled back and forth by four dwarves as if in a tug-of-war was already in the process of felling one tree.
A snake, jolted awake as it fell from a branch where it had been sleeping, raised its head.
Thwack!
Before the nearby dwarf could even swing his axe, a single arrow flew in and pierced its head.
"Hmph!"
The dwarf turned away from the shrugging dark elf with a look that said, 'I'm not going to thank you!'
BANG! BANG! BANG!
The log fences and prefabricated guard posts they had stored in the Wandering Castle's warehouse were also being installed.
"If you don't want to die, don't come this way!"
The female warriors of the Caracal Special Forces laid bear traps in front of the log palisade and strung barbed wire above it.
"Lord of the Castle. How did you devise such vicious tools?"
"The idea wasn't mine. I learned of them, too."
Cassandra flicked the menacing serrated blade with her dagger. The thumb-sized barbs would easily tear through any ordinary hide.
"With this, nothing short of a club-wielding monster like a bugbear or troll would dare touch it."
Most of the countless monsters in this world were unintelligent and no larger than a calf.
Instead, they possessed venom or sharp teeth, were excellent climbers, and many were nocturnal, so they were not foes to be underestimated.
A fence lined with barbed wire was the best choice for stopping such creatures.
"Lift them up one by one as soon as the watchtowers are finished."
The dwarves strung the mounted ballistae and inspected the pulley-type loading mechanisms.
While everyone was busily moving about, Homi kept twitching her nose in front of a plant about two meters tall.
Its fruit resembled wild strawberries, but each was the size of an apple. A sweet scent wafted out softly, but she didn't seem certain whether it was safe to eat.
Fweet-hoo—?
Homi clasped her hands together and looked at Varda, letting out a coaxing whistle.
Varda approached, cupped the fruit in both hands, and closed her eyes for a moment before opening them.
"I do not know what kind of plant it is, but the fruit is safe to eat. There is no poison."
"Is that also forest magic?"
"It is a small skill too humble to call magic. I merely asked the plant."
"We decided to call things like that magic."
Eugene plucked the fruit and handed it to Homi, then bit into one himself.
Chomp.
The sound alone was refreshing. A clean sweetness filled his mouth, and unlike a wild strawberry, the fruit overflowed with juice that dripped heavily to the ground.
Chomp! Chomp! Chomp!
Beside him, Might—who had somehow approached unnoticed—was vacuuming up the fruit.
"Might. The plant asks that, while eating the fruit is fine, you please refrain from chewing the seeds. It also said it would prefer you relieve yourself in a spot with good sunlight."
"Grrr—!"
Might shook his head as if annoyed and turned away from the plant.
The dark elf women on meal duty brought out packaged hamburgers and barley tea. Working in four shifts, they were responsible for auxiliary army tasks such as laundry, maintenance of arms and armor, and preparing meals.
Smooch!
A girl who had come carrying a basket on her head, following her mother, stood on tiptoe. She kissed the cheek of a tribal warrior who appeared to be her father.
"When this job is finished, we absolutely must ask that the next destination be our kingdom."
"It's already been a year since I last saw my wife's face."
The dwarf warriors watched the scene as if envious.
The Hammer Brotherhood was also a warrior group whose entire clan engaged in the mercenary trade.
However, unlike the Black Hand tribe, dwarves were a settled people by nature. Wandering for years at a time, leaving their families in their homeland, was a painful fate.
But under Eugene's command, there was no such need. A problem that had plagued generations of senior warriors was now solved.
'I must distinguish myself in this mission no matter what, so I have grounds to petition His Excellency.'
The dwarves clenched their fists and steeled their resolve.
Determining the castle's destination was Eugene's sole prerogative. If they meant to pester him to head toward their homeland, they needed to produce results first.
"The beginning has been smooth."
"If we had completed a long sea voyage aboard ships first, this would have been a luxury beyond our wildest dreams. Everyone would have been utterly wrecked and probably collapsed for the first day, wouldn't you say?"
Octo nodded vigorously at Varda's words and pointed in one direction.
"When the expedition I was part of landed in the past, we advanced that way. There's a friendly native village roughly two days from here."
"The cat-people, you mean. They won't be hostile toward us, will they?"
"A primitive tribe. They have no ironworking technology, so they would be unable to pierce the armor worn by Your Excellency's troops."
Octo glanced at the trade goods being stacked neatly beside one of the outposts.
"Moreover, they are utterly helpless before the products of civilization. They welcomed us warmly over trifling things we had at the time, so with Your Excellency's gifts, words would be unnecessary."
Gifts were always the finest means of greeting when encountering strangers.
Full-length mirrors, garments sewn of fine fabric, jewel-adorned alloy daggers, and various kinds of liquor—these were popular items that drew goodwill from any civilization.
"By the way, did you truly see mermaids? There are so many among the men who harbor illusions about mermaids, you see. They were saying they wish to catch a glimpse even from a distance."
"I did see them, but not here—much farther north. That is, on the sea route my comrades and I originally intended to take."
The expedition Octo had belonged to turned the ship around without the slightest regret the moment they spotted a mermaid pod in an archipelago beyond the sea.
That was because their deaf sailor had died of scurvy, leaving them with no means to pass through the mermaids' territory.
To landsmen, they might be maidens of dreams and fantasies, but to sailors, there was no greater nemesis than a mermaid. A feud worse than that between shepherd and wolf.
"During a voyage, one often finds ships adrift and empty in the middle of the sea. Ships rammed into reefs and sunk in places where the currents aren't even rough, and the like."
"Meaning it's the mermaids' handiwork? But in the first scenario, isn't that a windfall? You could snatch up a free ship."
Even on land, merchants' wagons annihilated by monster attacks were occasionally discovered.
Adventurers and mercenaries often called such wagons 'golden wagons' among themselves. In cases where they hit the jackpot, a man might lay his hands on enough coin to retire on the spot.
"That is exactly the bait. If you take it, you all die."
"Hm? Ah! So that's how it was."
The quick-witted Eugene understood at once.
"It is like an army being most vulnerable during a river crossing. Sailors hauling up another ship are equally full of openings. If the mermaids strike then..."
Octo mimed walking with his index and middle fingers upon his arm, then made them all slip and fall away.
"That's chilling. They're far more cunning than I thought."
"Even now, empty, masterless ships must be drifting here and there across the sea. Serves as bait of death, you could say."
Octo brought the story to a close, satisfied by Eugene's intrigued reaction.
Seamen were every bit as fond of spinning yarns as mercenaries were. All the more so when the listener was the liege lord to whom they had sworn fealty.
"At any rate, a storm struck that revised course, of all things. We were swept far south of our original destination."
Whether to call that misfortune was ambiguous, since it later allowed him to become Eugene's vassal.
A small contingent of warhorses selected for reconnaissance emerged into the outpost's yard.
The animals rolled their eyes with curiosity at the completely unfamiliar air and the smell of earth. Then they began to salivate at the strange weeds growing from the ground.
"Grrrr—!"
When Might stepped forward just as they were about to tear off a mouthful, the warhorses instantly closed their mouths and lowered their heads.
Might had not simply acted out of spite. He had commanded them not to eat, for the plants were poisonous.
Two rulers existed within the Wandering Castle. One was Eugene, sovereign of men; the other was Might, sovereign of beasts.
Sniff sniff.
Might's nose drew in a wealth of scents from the vast jungle.
He sensed the fragrance of life beyond counting. To Might, however, they were all simply delicious prey.
Except mingled among them was a particular scent as well. The scent of subjects.
Beasts who would serve not as flesh but with their sinews. He sensed the scent of those who would newly join the stables and offer their backs to his master's subordinates.
"What is it?"
To Eugene, who stroked his cheek with a puzzled look, Might gave a meaningful eye-smile.
His jaw structure prevented him from smiling like a human, but expressing joy, anger, sorrow, and pleasure was entirely possible.
"Urrrr—."
The war dogs with steel spike collars about their necks barked from atop the palisade wall toward the jungle.
Unlike Might, who had nothing to fear, the dogs' sense of smell was assailed by all manner of danger signals tangled together.
The force Eugene had mobilized for the New Continent expedition numbered roughly 2,500.
But behind them stood the distilled experience and technology of a civilization built over thousands of years.
"The natives here do not wear armor, you said?"
"That is correct, Your Excellency."
Octo trembled as if frightened of the war dogs.
"Relax. They're on our side."
"I-I've spent my whole life being chased by guard dogs, you see."
Sweat beading on his skin, Octo averted his gaze. Living as a smuggler, he had been bitten by dogs seven times, and nearly died on two of those occasions.
Whether it was an occupational malady, seeing dozens of large dogs averaging forty kilograms in weight made his breath come short.
"An enemy baring bare flesh need not be fought exclusively with sword or spear."
When one spoke of rat-catching, cats usually came to mind, but in truth, specialized hunting dogs were far more adept at it.
A fierce dog gripping a sewer rat as thick as a child's arm in its jaws and violently shaking its head—that sight inspired exhilaration more than it did cruelty.
"These fellows will be perfectly suited for biting to death the small-folk that lurk in the undergrowth."
Given the humid and hot climate, the dogs had been shorn close so they could don war dog armor.
Octo found himself tongue-tied by the meticulousness of the preparations, which verged on obsession.
* * *
To speak honestly, there were some among the subordinates who wondered if Eugene was perhaps going a bit too far.
For they well knew, having passed through many battlefields, that their own fighting power was, objectively speaking, at an absurd level.
Moreover, the jungle before them looked rather magnificent on the surface, and not a single monster approached the palisade by the time they finished supper.
"Woof woof woof—!"
"Ruff ruff—!"
But whatever small loosening of their spirits had begun was drawn taut again thanks to the dogs barking madly in the dead of night.
"Attack!"
A dwarf warrior manning the watchtower shouted, leveling his crossbow.
Across the outpost's front yard, which had been flattened by a full day of logging, there were white shapes dashing headlong from beyond.
"...!"
Octo, the first to ascend the watchtower, opened his eyes wide. He had seen those silhouettes before.
"Wait! Don't shoot! I don't think they're enemies!"
The guards, who had been hesitating over whether to fire or not, followed Octo's advice. In a strange world, it was wiser to heed a veteran's counsel than their own instincts.
Before long, what revealed itself before the outpost's torches were cat-people with sleek figures.
Thanks to the white fur sprouting across their bodies, they were easily visible even in the dark. Upon their feline faces, which stirred protective instincts, there lay nine parts fear and one part hope.
[■■■! ■■!]
[■■!]
They came running, shouting at the guards in the native tongue.
'We are not enemies!'
'Don't attack!'
Though the language was unknown, anyone who was not a fool could grasp the meaning from expression and atmosphere alone.
The war dogs, too, were baring their fangs not at the frightened cat-people, but at the beings beyond them.
"Rakshas! It's the raksha bastards!"
Their foxlike faces were both cunning and ferocious beyond measure. Wielding bone spears and stone axes, the rakshas charged in with reckless abandon.
"Fire!"
The guards atop the palisade gave them a welcome of crossbow bolts.
Octo, who did not intervene this time, clenched his fists.
This wild and savage continent was no different now than it had been before. It seemed it had no intention of letting even the first night pass peacefully.
End
ⓒ Gusojae#1wecx