Chapter 42: Lining Up (1)
Chapter 42: Lining Up (1)
Goldhill was majestic, as befitted the ancestral seat of the venerable Morad family.
A gold vein ran beneath it, so rich that in ages past, gold dust was said to have flowed across the surface of the ground.
"The castle certainly looks solidly built."
"The fellows working there must have landed themselves a sweet gig."
One of the jobs mercenaries coveted most was serving as a guard at the main castle of a great noble house. It was safe, came with good facilities instead of sleeping rough, and with luck could even lead to a permanent position as a household soldier.
The territory had entered a wartime posture. Through the endlessly stretching vineyards where farmers had begun the harvest, dispatch riders came and went.
"Lady Roxane."
The gate guards drew their shields to their chests in salute.
Even the scribe assigned to receive visitors was working in shifts. He compared Eugene intently with a note in his hand, then hurried over.
"Sir Eugene? By chance, are you Sir Eugene from Bonyard?"
"...Yes. Here is the count's invitation."
Eugene showed the letter with a somewhat nonplussed expression, and the scribe nodded.
"I bid you a heartfelt welcome. I have heard much of you from Lord Benjamin."
The scribe also spotted Roxane behind him and bowed his head respectfully.
"You must have had a difficult journey, Sir Roxane."
"Where is my father?"
"He is in council with his vassals. A formal declaration of war has arrived from the Duran family."
"After happily hitting us everywhere they could, now they send one?"
Roxane was baffled.
War between great nobles was not a death match. It more closely resembled a combative negotiation where they struck back and forth with whatever surplus resources they could muster, and the one being pushed back made concessions.
That was why they observed formalities even while killing one another, and a declaration of war was one of the most important courtesies.
"If they skipped it entirely, they'd be condemned for it, so they must be trying to at least keep up appearances. You know how petty the Duran lot are."
The scribe stood before Eugene.
"Let us go. The count is waiting."
"Did you not just say he was in a meeting?"
"He commanded that you be escorted to him without regard for the circumstances the moment you arrived. He said not to keep a great knight waiting. Do you require any preparations?"
"No. I can go at once."
This was not a social gathering. If he had been invited as a knight, his armor was the only finery he needed.
"Looks like you really caught my father's eye. He rarely invites guests himself, and I've never seen him treat one like this. I hope you enjoy yourself."
Roxane waved a hand and left.
Eugene walked with the scribe through a corridor lined with portraits of the family's successive heads.
Perhaps it ran in the family, because they all had the same good-natured look as Benjamin. Put less kindly, they looked a little like Thomson's gazelles.
"Here it is."
A large door appeared before them. The entrance to Panis's office had been lavish, but compared to this, it was child's play.
"Are you ready?"
"Of course."
When the door opened after a knock, there were nobles gathered around a massive rectangular table. Upon the table lay the most intricately detailed map Eugene had seen in this world.
The middle-aged man seated at the head of the table stared at Eugene.
'Is that man Count Morad? The exact opposite of the portraits I saw in the corridor.'
The count had the look of a black vulture. His tightly closed mouth suited him perfectly, and his lips looked as hard and cold as stone.
While everyone else wore armor, the count alone wore a leather suit. Yet he gave off the strongest scent of blood among them all.
For this was the image of a great noble who had realized that killing enemies with ink and paper was more efficient than doing so with a sword.
"Count. Sir Eugene of House Meyer—the All-Conquering Knight of Bonyard, the Monster Slayer, and successor to the Knight of Prophecy—has answered your summons."
At the scribe's introduction, the gazes of the nobles converged as one.
"That young?"
"He's practically a boy."
"A magical beast... what kind did he say it was...?"
The nobles' whispers subsided the moment Count Morad raised his hand.
"Come, sit beside me."
The chair to the count's left stood empty, while the chair on his right had been removed altogether. The arrangement was meant to seat Eugene, and no one else, beside him.
Considering that the head of a great noble house had prepared the seat in the middle of a war council with his vassals, it was extraordinary treatment.
'A bit overwhelming. I'd only expected a private audience in a separate reception room at most.'
Eugene took his seat.
"Will you have a glass?"
"I am honored."
The count poured the wine for him.
Glug, glug.
"There are ranks even among All-Conquering Knights. Defeating Volks, Badel, and Linton without taking a single wound is something even an ogre couldn't do. Truly remarkable."
"It was the first city I formed ties with after venturing out into the world. I merely did my utmost to protect it."
"You value your ties, then... Will you also treasure your bond with us, the first noble house you became involved with?"
"Of course, Your Excellency."
Count Morad's face bore a faint smile.
"I hear you slew a magical beast while subjugating a bandit gang. Everyone has been most curious."
"I slew a Wendigo."
An attendant waiting behind them placed a large book on the table. Its cover read, "Encyclopedia of Supernatural Creatures."
"A book about creatures other than naturally occurring monsters, I see."
"You can read as well."
The count's faint smile grew a little more distinct.
"At my station, reports of all manner of monstrous creatures come in daily. The vast majority are monsters that can be dealt with."
The count pointed to a spot on the map.
"For example, a warg appeared here two weeks ago. A tragedy for the shepherds, but a creature that vanishes once its belly is full and its urges are sated. One can simply regard it as a temporary disaster."
This time, he indicated a village near a mountain.
"This is where a minotaur was discovered half a year ago. Woodcutters and farmers died, but it soon disappeared to another region."
Eugene realized that the count, unlike other nobles, wore not a single small ring on his fingers.
"Occasionally the damage grows severe, but that is all. The most important thing is, monsters do not touch that. Do you know what that is?"
After pondering for a moment, Eugene opened his mouth.
"Roads and castles, is it not? They crave blood and flesh, and have no interest in the profit relationships of men."
"Correct."
Was it because the answer he wanted had come back so precisely? The count now wore an expression that anyone would call a smile. He placed his index finger on the table of contents and traced down, searching for Wendigo.
"Magical beasts differ from monsters. According to the will of their creator, they can attack and occupy roads or castles. To a ruler, a single magical beast can be more dangerous than ten ogres."
Stopping his finger at the part labeled Wendigo, the count opened to that page.
"The Hall War, the greatest threat man can create. The magical beast, the greatest threat magic can create. I wished to meet the man who has effortlessly shattered both."
It was a somewhat philosophical reason. It felt slightly different from a warrior's desire to meet a strong knight, or a lord's need for military power in times of war.
"Did the beast you faced look like this?"
The Wendigo page was densely packed with detailed illustrations and descriptions. The other nobles, too, seemed curious; they lifted their hips and craned their necks.
"Broadly similar, but its horns were far longer and more tangled. Scores of veteran mercenaries were killed or injured by its horns alone. Examination of wounds confirmed that three knights also fell to it."
"I have never heard of a monster that uses its horns so skillfully. A pity I could not see for myself how formidable it was."
"If you wish, I can show you now."
"Hm?"
Eugene pointed toward the entrance.
"Beside the door, my squire is holding a trophy stuffed from the Wendigo's head. I brought it, thinking Your Excellency might be curious. Shall I have it brought in?"
"Ha! I feel I now understand why Benjamin was so fond of you. You are unlike those other knights whose heads are made of scrap iron."
The count's vassals were astonished. Count Morad was a man who rarely showed even a small smile. It had truly been ages since he had laughed aloud, however briefly.
At Eugene's call, Homi entered the council chamber. The massive horns, gleaming with a black luster, seized everyone's attention.
"Good heavens!"
"To think such a monster existed in this world."
"With horns that size, it could impale a warhorse and lift it."
Exclamations of wonder rose from all around.
Everyone present was a noble with ample experience hunting monsters. Just from the thickness of the Wendigo's neck, they instantly grasped how massive its frame had been; just from its horns, they understood how dangerous a creature it was.
The Wendigo trophy was placed before Count Morad.
"Ho-oh."
He gazed at the luster-gleaming horns with keen interest. After admiring the shifting waves of gloss, turning his head this way and that, the count spoke.
"I also heard that you punished the bandits who were plundering the village, and even routed the Duran knights who had captured our envoy."
"It was only my duty as a knight who had received Your Excellency's summons."
"If everyone truly did the duties they ought to, my head would not ache every single day."
Count Morad withdrew his gaze from the horns and gestured behind him.
"For accepting my invitation. For avenging the wrongs done to us, restoring our family's honor, and rescuing our vassals. For undertaking Roxane's escort. For bringing this magnificent feat and spectacle. For all of these, I shall bestow a reward befitting them all."
Two servants carried over a large chest and set it upon the floor.
Slosh.
Judging by the loud, ringing sound it made the moment it was set down, the chest was undoubtedly full of coins.
'There's no way a man of the count's stature would have stingily filled it with copper coins.'
Thinking of the silver coins that must fill the chest made the exhaustion of the journey seem to melt away completely.
"Usually, I would gift arms or a horse, but you already seemed to possess gear finer than anything I could give."
The count had apparently received intelligence beforehand and grasped Eugene's equipment.
"That armor you wear. I have seen it before, in the past."
The count spoke with an expression of searching his memory.
"It was passed down to me by Master Goffrey."
"He once stayed with our family as a guest. I personally asked him to serve as our family's swordsmanship instructor, but he refused. A knight who even turned down a request from the royal family—so it was hardly surprising."
"He was a man of exceeding stubbornness."
The more he traveled the world, the only thing that grew was his respect for his master.
"Yet he accepted teaching you."
"It seems Your Excellency had many reasons to wish to meet me."
The interest of a great noble was a shortcut to success, but Eugene remained warily on his guard. The man facing him was an overwhelmingly powerful figure. He had to stay mindful that this goodwill could turn into something else in an instant.
"What was the mood like on your way here?"
"The air of war was everywhere. The situation seems to be deteriorating much faster than expected."
"Roman has been rigid for too long. The cracks created by that brat of an emperor will spread across the whole continent."
The words were superficially cursing the emperor, but the count's tone betrayed no hostility.
"How we fill those cracks will determine this family's future. Whether we sink into the fissure, or knead other families like clay to fill it and stand all the taller."
Rather, it was closer to a positive sentiment. Like a kind of hostile symbiosis.
"In what form and how far this family advances, only God knows. But a place for you shall always be kept open. Just as it was when I welcomed you today."
"Such treatment is excessively generous for a mere single knight. I thank you from the bottom of my heart."
A young knight who maintained his composure even after receiving treatment that would make any other knight weep profusely and fall to his knees. The vassals could not help but acknowledge Benjamin's discerning eye anew.
After sharing a few more words, Eugene was told to go and rest, and he exited the council chamber. Homi followed behind, carrying the Wendigo trophy.
"Phew, that was nerve-wracking."
Homi rubbed Eugene's back, as if feeling sorry for him.
Conversations with a top-tier superior were indeed such a headache.
One could not simply accept goodwill as goodwill; he had to struggle to discern the true intent. Every question had to be answered instantly, and deferring was impossible. It was more exhausting than fighting the Wendigo.
"Pfft! Homi, what is that?"
He had wondered where her tail had gone, but she had it wrapped around her waist. The thick white fur made it look like an elegant accessory.
She must have paid it some mind, given the important setting. A beastkin's tail did, after all, tend to move on its own at times.
"It looks really natural. Like a fur belt."
"Hmph-hmph!"
The thick white tail that had been wound around her waist gently unraveled, then swayed merrily. She was genuinely delighted.
It was because of the single sentence the count had whispered low to Eugene just before they exited the council chamber.
- I wish to keep you not as a knight, but as a lord.
A fief!
The count's intent seemed to be to invest solidly in Eugene. Though it appeared he had only floated the idea for now, to give him time to think.