Chapter 6: One Who Understands the Three Worlds (6)
Chapter 6: One Who Understands the Three Worlds (6)
In his previous life, Eugene had not been a soldier who served honorably under the sun.
He had been the kind of soldier who hid in shadows and got blood and filth on his hands.
He could not wear a proud uniform or display the medals he had been awarded, but he had taken pride in himself.
In peacetime, men like him served the national interest, and someone had to do the work.
Still, one thing had always troubled him.
-You're going to fall into hell when you die!
-You heaven-cursed scum! I'll never, ever open my mouth—
-You break my bones and then play doctor? Go to hell.
Due to the nature of his missions, he was often present both for the treatment of targets (the injuries Eugene had inflicted) and for their final moments (which Eugene carried out).
In the course of it, he received all manner of abuse and curses, and the words "go to hell" were ones he heard especially often.
Maybe there was something to the saying that words could become reality.
When Eugene met his death in the line of duty, the road to hell had opened before his soul.
"!!!"
When he opened his eyes, the sun was already nearing its zenith. It was a memory of the past that came to him just when he thought he had forgotten it.
Was it because he had burned through too much energy between the monster boar hunt and his duel with Goffrey? Or perhaps...
-I'll untie you right now, you bastard! So that wine incident was your nasty little trick after all!
Was it because he had used his mother's witch power for the first time in a long while?
During the wine ceremony, it had truly not been intentional. No one had been more surprised than Eugene himself.
But as he grew, he came to understand the power flowing in his blood.
It was not the kind of power that could be explained in words. He simply understood it instinctively.
A witch's power was not something a man could normally wield, yet Eugene was the sole exception. He suspected it was because of the extraordinary experience his soul had undergone.
The place witches called the far side of the world. Eugene alone had died, seen and experienced that place firsthand, and then returned to the living world.
After a quick wash with the water he had prepared, he stepped out of his room at the monastery.
"..."
"Ahem!"
The priests he encountered avoided Eugene with uncomfortable expressions.
Their relationship had already been poor, and Eugene would soon be leaving. Even Goffrey, who had shielded him, was gone under unpleasant circumstances.
'Whether I manage to retrieve Mother's keepsakes from the sealed shrine or not, I'll have to leave this village.'
If he had fallen this far out of favor in a village governed by a monastery, he could be driven from the forest as well.
Like the mill, the forest symbolized one of a lord's exclusive rights over his domain.
A handsomely dressed noble bagging game while attended by soldiers?
It reminded the people of the domain, 'Ah, so that's our lord. Better not cross him.'
Since Kingdom's End was governed by the monastery, there was no such thing as lavish noble-style hunting.
A tradition of generously opening the forest to all, from hunters to herbalists, had been passed down.
But there was no telling how long that generosity would last—at least where Eugene and Homi were concerned.
'Wherever the two of us go, we won't starve to death, at least.'
With their bond, strength, and knowledge, they would weather the storms of the world well enough. They were no longer the powerless little boy and girl of the past.
Eugene went to the village smithy. Its owner had once forged arms and armor for the manor's knights, though these days the place was little more than a farm-tool shop.
"Do it yourself from now on. I can't do it for you forever."
"Yes! Yes! Thank you!"
The boy, holding a bleating baby goat in his arms, bowed and scraped.
The bald, middle-aged man held a pair of castration shears. When he spotted Eugene, he quickly waved the boy away.
"Me-e-e-eh-!"
The newly castrated kid disappeared into the distance with a pitiful bleat.
No blood flowed, likely because the wound had been cauterized with red-hot tongs. It was a crude method for a young goat, but the smith knew it improved its odds of survival.
"Welcome, Lord Eugene!"
The smith bowed deeply in greeting.
"The item you previously ordered is finished. Have a look."
He brought over a polearm and handed it across.
It was an unusual weapon: a long haft connected by a very short chain to a heavy striking bar. A flail.
Eugene had ordered it oversized to suit his strength, with plenty of metal used to reinforce its durability.
"Oof! In the hands of a knight like you, it looks truly fearsome—no, imposing."
Eugene was a man who always prepared for contingencies. He needed a multipurpose weapon ready for the time when he would leave the village and journey across the world.
"You've done well. It turned out far better than I imagined. You are a master craftsman after all."
"Ha ha ha! I can say with confidence that this fellow will hold up no matter how roughly you treat it. Just look at the thickness of this chain. Even if Gord warriors swung their axes at it, they'd barely leave a scratch."
A sword, for all its expense, was more fragile than one might think. It was also difficult to handle every situation with just one sword.
He had needed an inexpensive polearm with high durability, and the flail was an excellent choice. It suited Eugene's strength well and was easy to maintain.
"Do you need anything else?"
"Plenty. But first, would you look at this?"
Eugene untied the bundle he had brought. The armor his master had worn was revealed, reflecting the light.
"I'll be embarking on a long journey soon, and I wish to be thoroughly prepared. To my eyes, it seems flawless, but I want it checked by a professional's eye."
It was a fine suit of armor, with a breastplate of intricate metal plates and chainmail covering down to the elbows and thighs. Even most knights could not afford such quality.
"The luster on it is magnificent, every time I see it."
Even with good care, armor occasionally needed to pass through the hands of a smith, so Goffrey had often left it at the forge.
"Even in my heyday at the lord's manor, I never made anything this fine."
"Thank you for the compliment."
Perhaps the smith was only flattering him. Even so, Eugene nearly grinned at hearing his armor praised. It seemed he had become a proper knight after all.
Most knights here used chainmail as a base with various supplements, but the area covered and the auxiliary armor added varied drastically according to the state of each man's purse.
Armor that fixed iron plates inside a vest with rivets, like coats of plates or brigandines, was also widely used.
"It's in fine condition. Do you require anything further?"
The smith, having inspected it meticulously, nodded his head.
"I plan to leave the village before long, and I'll need maintenance tools and consumables. The oil is nearly gone, and I need new whetstones as well."
"Then my day's business is done."
The smith grinned and brought out the items Eugene ordered one by one.
"I never thought you were the sort to stay forever in a backwater like this, but it's still a shame."
With each item he set down, the smith's expression grew cloudier.
Personal affection aside, losing the village's powerful warrior and herbalist would hurt. If Eugene left, Homi would go with him as part of the package.
"I cannot say when we shall meet again, but a day will surely come. Stay well until then."
"I shall pray that your renown, Lord Eugene, reaches even this countryside. In my heart, of course."
"Right. Just make absolutely sure the monastery priests never catch wind of it."
When Eugene, having paid for the goods, extended his right hand, the smith laughed and clasped it firmly.
The next place he sought was the forest hut.
Homi could be easily found from afar. She had been napping in the oak tree beside the hut.
With a simple sleeping bag—a linen shell stuffed with straw—the hardness of the tree vanished.
Homi enjoyed climbing to the top of the oak to watch the mountains or look out over the village.
Twitch.
Her sleeping body stirred a few times, then sprang up abruptly. She must have sensed Eugene's approach.
Homi tipped herself headfirst and scampered down the trunk on all fours.
She climbed more like a beast than a human, yet there was nothing crude about it—only smooth, graceful movement.
"Master is gone."
At Eugene's first words, Homi covered her mouth in shock.
"He said to ask your forgiveness for not being able to bid you farewell. The situation when he left was truly such."
A final lesson imparted to his disciple with all his soul's strength, disillusionment with the monastery, the pursuit of a voice of God that had fallen silent.
When Eugene explained the circumstances, Homi's face filled with anger. Not resentment toward Goffrey, but fury at the monastery.
"I'm leaving the village in two days. What will you do?"
-I'll follow you! Even beyond the mountains or across the sea!
Homi answered with emphatic sign language.
"Alright. Thank you."
When he stroked her head, her long, thick white tail—so characteristic of a snow leopard—swished excitedly.
The two ate lunch together at the hut. Since they were on the verge of departure and could not take everything with them, a luxurious meal was laid out.
The meal used rare ingredients that only a witch's knowledge and a beastkin's nose could have found together.
Seasonings refined from herbs, sap, mushrooms, and water plants transformed even ordinary meat into a delicacy.
The stew was full of freshwater clam meat that had been purged of grit.
"Once we leave the village, we'll be roughing it for a while. But if we combine our strengths, we'll have a decent foothold set up in no time."
-Of course. Just trust my nose. I'll make sure you eat meat every single day.
As if intent on stockpiling stamina, Homi ate far more than usual.
After the meal, as Eugene was about to leave, Homi caught his sleeve.
-Do you really have to spend the remaining days in that uncomfortable monastery?
She asked in sign language.
"There's something I have to retrieve. I need to get back my mother's keepsakes that those bastards took."
At those words, Homi let go. Then she raised a clenched fist in a fighting stance. It was a gesture Eugene had taught her.
"Leave it to me."
This time as well, Homi waved her hand until Eugene's figure was no longer in sight.
Eugene went to the underground dungeon and delivered food to the dhampir women.
"Planning to starve yourselves again today?"
While the mother and daughter ate, expressing their thanks over and over, the girl kept her arms crossed and her eyes closed.
"How can we ever repay this kindness?"
Having finished eating, the mother and daughter knelt side by side and pressed their hands together in thanks.
"What are your names?"
"I am Lara, and this is my daughter, Rani."
Bow.
At her mother's introduction, the daughter Rani bowed her head deeply.
The food's quality was better than what most commoners ate, but the quantity was kept slightly meager.
"I'll bring more tomorrow. It was edible, I hope?"
"It was delicious! We are grateful for your kindness!"
On the faces of the mother and daughter, which held not just thanks but reverence, anticipation settled.
'The food I bring tomorrow will be laced with sleeping draught, though.'
Eugene concealed his inner thoughts and, imitating his master, put on a merciful face.
"Young lady, please, do take just one bite."
The little lady Rani brought the leftovers and pleaded earnestly, but the girl was immovable.
"I will not eat."
"But you are so terribly hungry. You have grown much too thin."
Even with Rani on the verge of tears, the girl remained icy-faced.
Her frame was slender to begin with, and with the addition of hollow eyes, she looked truly perilous.
"I say again, I will not eat."
Faced with her stubbornness, Rani backed down.
Grrrrrowl!
At that moment, the girl's stomach growled loudly.
"Rani. It seems you are hungry, at an age when you are growing so fast. Do eat a bit more heartily."
"Huh? Oh, ah! Yes!"
At Eugene's words, Rani's face showed puzzlement for an instant, then she caught on and nodded vigorously.
GRRRRROOOOWL!
An even louder growl thundered from her stomach.
"...You need not extend such consideration."
The girl spoke while turning away her flushed face.
And so, another day passed.
On the third trip down carrying food, Eugene steeled his resolve.
'I must not fail to enter the sealed shrine this time.'
To lay hands on his mother's keepsakes, he had to put the dhampir girl to sleep today. For that purpose, he had prepared a very special meal.
This, even that snooty girl would never be able to refuse!