Chapter 15
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 15
Chapter Title: The Children of Luoveidra
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In the year Vaneres, prince of the Kabonihar Kingdom, turned ten, his father was murdered. The usurper seized the throne and sought to nip any chance of revenge in the bud by killing the young prince.
Count Belido spoke of this, mixing his own thoughts with the facts that had been passed down.
“For a usurper who beat his king to death, what was the trouble in killing a mere ten-year-old prince? The prince's death was a foregone conclusion. But a knight, who was staying as a guest of the royal family, is said to have saved him and fled to a neighboring country.”
It is said that the knight's prowess was so great that he faced six knights alone and evaded pursuit for forty-eight days. And after entrusting the prince to the queen of the neighboring country, he is said to have left to become a guest in yet another land.
“Afterward, the prince spent eight years there. When he came of age, he dreamt of revenge, borrowing the queen's army, but... because the neighboring country was destroyed, his revenge could not even begin.”
Knowing Vaneres would seek revenge, the usurper had launched a surprise attack and destroyed the neighboring country. Vaneres was captured at the end of the resistance and taken before the usurper in a cart.
This was the second crisis.
And this time, too, a certain guest saved him.
The escort party stopped in a certain city where there was a hunter. The hunter, who had briefly stopped to sell his goods, saw the prince trapped in the cart and rescued him in the middle of the night, making his escape.
The two crossed a forest inhabited by a mad witch and headed for another country. Naturally, a pursuit party followed them, and it was said their numbers were greater than the trees in the forest.
But because their great numbers incurred the witch's wrath, the prince reached another country safely, while not a single member of the pursuit party left the forest alive.
The count added.
“In some plays, it's interpreted that the witch wasn't angered, but that the hunter commanded her. We don't know for sure. All these stories were passed down by word of mouth from His Majesty himself.”
The clear fact is that the hunter, too, left after saving the prince.
“The third and fourth times were the same. Just before he was to be executed after being framed for attempting a coup, and when he fell into a comatose state for years after being poisoned, there were guests who brought him proof of his innocence and an antidote, respectively.”
The knight, the hunter, the priest, and the alchemist—the four guests all appeared with different names and occupations to save Vaneres, and once their work was done, they left without taking any reward.
In the year he turned thirty-eight, twenty-eight years after his father was murdered, Vaneres gathered his forces and achieved his revenge against the usurper. He then ruled Kabonihar until he reached the age of ninety.
During his reign, the kingdom's territory expanded severalfold. He married the princess of a neighboring country, uniting the two nations, and he punished and subjugated the country that had framed him.
Although it was hundreds of years before the kingdom's name echoed across the continent, historians assess that Kabonihar's national power was actually greater during Vaneres's reign.
When the story ended, Roberta asked.
“What happened to those guests?”
“Right after the Great King reclaimed his throne, he searched for the guests. He sent out proclamations to every corner of the country, wishing to repay their kindness. But it's said they never came forward.”
“...”
“Also, strangely enough... the proclamations didn't describe their names or features. They were written like letters, conveying his gratitude, blessings, and finally, his hope to them.”
Based on this, the count commented that Vaneres must have known the four guests would not seek him out again, and that perhaps he had sent the proclamations merely to convey his feelings.
“Priest, you asked about the relationship between the Great King Vaneres and the Duke of Dithmarschen. What if, I say, the four guests were one person? What if that person was Duke Ulrich of Dithmarschen?”
“Do you also believe the four were one person, Count?”
“I don't know. To be honest, it doesn't feel real.”
That made sense, Roberta thought, nodding.
Vaneres was as good as the founder of the Kabonihar Kingdom. Hadn't it been twenty years since the throne was usurped? It was enough time to consider one nation fallen and a new dynasty established. Therefore, the moment he reclaimed the throne was also the moment the kingdom experienced its second founding.
That founder faced four crises in his lifetime, was helped by a different person each time, and the story has been told among the people ever since.
The reasons were likely varied. The special talents shown by each guest, their appearing in times of crisis only to vanish without a trace, the ending where the king wished to see them again his entire life but never could—it was all more than enough to make a good story.
But what if they were all one person?
And what if that person were still alive today?
“They say all sorts of liars appeared when the Great King was alive. Some even showed up on his deathbed, seeking a reward. Despite not knowing the names or faces.”
They met a terrible end, the count added.
“The only ones who know the details about the four guests are members of the royal family. Today, Duke Bailen, my lord, is the only one who heard the story directly from the Great King. The reason I believe it is because my lord believes it.”
Roberta thought.
If what Duke Bailen believed was true, then Ulrich, the Lord of Dithmarschen, had lived more than twice as long as the records suggested.
He had previously hinted at having lived for 1,400 years or more, but that was merely his own claim.
But now?
Duke Bailen had vouched that four names, including Laurent, were Ulrich's former names. Bailen had no reason to lie. Then was Ulrich a man who had lived for over 600 years?
Ulrich claimed to be purely human. A pure human with no non-human races mixed in his ancestry.
The claim itself was preposterous, but even accepting it didn't solve the mystery of his long life.
‘Ulrich, Laurent, and there must be many other names.’
However, the question she had right now wasn't about his lifespan.
She had heard too much about his lifespan and had already concluded that the answer was unknowable. Rather than clinging to an unprovable problem, she seized on a new question.
The question of what kind of life he had lived under his other names.
He had said, ‘I changed my name every time I moved.’
What names did he use each time, and what mark did he leave with each of them?
She was curious about that.
Hadn't the names of his that had been revealed left huge, unknown marks on history?
600 years ago, he was Laurent de Villeneuve.
For the last 300 years, he has been Ulrich of Dithmarschen.
He was the one who allowed two human kingdoms, Kabonihar and Osnover, to rise again. Could such a person have spent the 300 years in between quietly?
Roberta was certain that was absolutely not the case.
#
The next day, the party descended the snowy mountain as Ulrich had said.
The descent was steep, but their spirits were high. After staying on the snowy mountain for several days, they were sick of the sight of it. The blood-freezing blizzards, the monsters that glided on them, the rugged terrain—there was nothing to like.
The plains below the mountain were a white land covered in snow, but unlike the mountain, the blizzards had stopped, and no monsters were in sight. On the surface, it was so quiet as to make its derogatory name, the Demon Realm, seem baseless.
But they soon found themselves missing the snowy mountain.
Once they were actually walking on the plains, they realized the mountain's tantrums had been mere child's play. An environment comfortable for humans couldn't possibly be uncomfortable for other plants and animals, could it? Evidence that Ulrich's monster encyclopedia was not fiction soon began to appear.
“Huh? Wh-what?”
*Crunch, crunch.* Someone made a sound while walking on the snowy path.
Realizing the emotion in that sound was bewilderment, Roberta turned to see the ground suddenly collapsing. Where she stood, the ground only rumbled beneath her feet, but it was different for the two people at the rear of the party.
The snow-covered ground gave way, forming a conical pit. Simultaneously, Count Belido and one of his retainers slid into it.
And the moment the retainer collapsed in the center of the pit, a pincer-like jaw shot out, bit into his waist, and dragged him under.
“Damn it!”
Count Belido shouted.
It wasn't just one monster.
Another monster appeared, its pincer-jaw wide open, and bit Belido. Unlike the retainer, he had rolled away quickly, so his waist was spared, but his left thigh was bitten instead.
That was the extent of his resistance. Belido lost his balance and fell; there was nothing to grab onto. As the monster pulled him, he was dragged away helplessly.
“Belido!”
Duke Bailen took a step forward, ready to jump in.
But before he could, Ulrich leaped into the pit.
Ulrich landed beside Belido and, swinging the sword in his right hand, sliced off the monster's head. The monster's head had a hard exoskeleton like that of a crustacean, yet the sword cut through it with a crisp sound, as if slicing through air.
He then pried the pincer-jaw off Belido's thigh and threw him out of the pit.
“Get out of there, quickly!”
Bailen bent his knees and urgently reached out his hand. Ulrich shook his head and, with his back to him, scanned the surroundings. The retainer who had been caught by the first pincer was nowhere to be seen.
“Don't come in. Stay far back.”
The pit trembled.
Beneath the pit of mixed white snow and black sand, an unknown number of monsters began to move. They must have realized Ulrich was no ordinary prey and were now on guard.
*Swoosh*, sand flew into the air.
To prevent their prey from climbing the slope or to obstruct its vision, the monsters fiercely kicked up sand mixed with snow. And then, the pincer-jaws of five monsters bit into Ulrich.
From his feet and thighs to his waist and chest, they attacked all at once, giving their prey no time to react. Ulrich cut down the one that bit his chest, but the other four dragged him down into the pit.
“My lord!”
Roberta let out a cry that was nearly a scream.
Ulrich did not open his mouth. Despite being dragged down to his waist in a matter of seconds, his expression was as calm as ever as he gripped his sword in a reverse hold and stabbed downward.
The inside of the sand pit shook, and his body shook with it. The monsters must have been twisting their jaws in pained fury. At that, he raised his arm higher and stabbed again.
“—! ——!”
A bizarre, eardrum-shattering scream leaked out of the pit. The pit's vibrations grew more violent, pulling Ulrich completely under.
Roberta, Bailen, Belido, and the retainers could do nothing but stare blankly down. All their senses could register were the sight of crimson blood rising to the pit's surface, the sound of bones crushing, and the vibrations beneath their feet.
“...”
How much time had passed?
The blood began to drain from the surface of the pit.
As if returning to its master, the blood that had mixed with the snow and dirt now drained away. The snow turned white, the dirt black, returning to their original colors, and the pit was left with only a trace of the commotion that had once been.
Before long, the center of the pit rose, and Ulrich stood up. He held a sword in his right hand and the retainer, now just an upper torso, in his left. His already light clothing was torn to shreds.
But there were no wounds.
The circumstances spoke of the bloody battle he had endured, yet, bizarrely, his skin was white and clean, without a single scratch.