Risou no Himo Seikatsu - Volume 15 - Chapter 1.2

Fortunately, his assumption that the wall would become transparent rather than open up was borne out, so there was no wind invading the cabin. Just in case, he ran his finger over the wall and the transparent section, and was greeted by a cold and hard sensation that didn’t change in any way as his finger moved across. It was likely some form of magic that simply removed the color to allow light through.

The transparent section looked—in Zenjirou’s estimation, at least—to be around one meter high and one point five meters wide. He considered switching to “full” transparency for a moment, but even understanding what was happening wasn’t enough to quell the sense of unease it would cause.

He ended up leaving it set as it was and instead tiptoed over to look through the window. He could see land far out in the distance. The colors were a roughly equal mix of brown and white, with splashes of green. The brown was plain rock, while the white was snow, and the green was probably plants.

“There’s already that much snow?” he asked. He had frequently visited the continent, but the majority of his time had been spent in the palace, so he didn’t know much about the uninhabited regions. The season was supposed to be early fall, and while Uppasala was far enough north that it felt cold, he hadn’t yet seen any deep snow.

Behind him, Yngvi let out a shocked reply. “The first snows have already arrived in the mountains, and some regions have snow year-round, so that itself isn’t particularly surprising. The time and angle of the sun, though... Are these the Misted Mountains, Pokafatch?”

“Misted Mountains?” Zenjirou asked.

The range beneath them was covered in uneven snow and certainly didn’t seem to have any mist. Were they often misty but currently clear?

Yngvi guessed at what he was thinking and explained excitedly, “They usually live up to their name. The summits are obvious, but the mist normally covers the land straight to the foot of the mountain. People say climbing it is suicide. Utgard is located within the mountain range, so the general assumption is that the mist is artificial in some way.”

Being located in the middle of the mountains, with no path, covered in deep fog seemed to be the main reason for it being unreachable without an invitation.

“I see,” Zenjirou said. “So the reason we aren’t seeing it could be that we’ve been invited and they temporarily stopped it?”

“It’s possible, but...” Some of the excitement had faded from the younger man’s voice. Zenjirou noticed and his companion looked at him meaningfully.

“Hm? What is it?”

“You seem shockingly at home with this. It’s all alien to me.”

“Ah...”

His statement made Zenjirou understand his carelessness. People who grew up in Japan but weren’t familiar with touch panels would be in the minority. In this world, however, they would never have seen the like.

“Um, well, the way it’s written meant I could understand it, and I mostly guessed with the rest.”

It wasn’t a secret that he was from another world, per se, but he didn’t want to explain the differences in culture, particularly to those from other countries, hence his vague dissembling. Fortunately, Yngvi didn’t inquire further.

“I see. You have impressive insight. You were the first to notice we were flying as well.”

Zenjirou could only laugh off his brother-in-law’s praise. It went without saying, but he had no greater insight than the average person. Realizing that the sleigh was flying, and how to use the controls, were both due to him having had similar experiences in Japan. He’d flown in planes and used touch devices like smartphones, so he’d just adapted to this new experience. Fortunately, his reaction didn’t seem to prompt any further suspicion. Of course, the prince’s mind was mostly occupied with the fact that they were actually flying.

“This is amazing. We’re flying in the sky. If we had even a few of these vehicles, we could use them for scouting. Having more would be revolutionary. The commonwealth has their Husaria, but even a few of these would break their aerial superiority.” His icy blue eyes were alight with ambition as he gazed out of the window.

“Since you didn’t know about them before, I doubt Utgard has many either. I don’t know how many Husaria the commonwealth has, but unless you can beat them in speed, altitude, or maneuverability, it wouldn’t be a contest,” Zenjirou commented.

“Oh, you’re familiar with aerial tactics?”

“It’s just the general theory,” Zenjirou answered eventually, avoiding Yngvi’s eyes as the younger man grinned. He’d let something slip again. While showing his familiarity with aerial combat was a slip, his excuse had been even worse. It made it clear that Zenjirou came from a world where aerial combat was commonplace.

In this world, there were no examples of real aerial combat in recorded history. The only country even capable of it was Złota Wolność. Of course, the commonwealth was neither stupid nor incompetent, so they regularly drilled their Husaria in tactics that would be used against other countries if they someday gained flying horses or similar options.

Additionally, it was all but impossible to hide those aerial displays from other nations, so the concept itself and the knowledge of it following their example had spread across the upper echelons of the Northern Continent. However, there was by no means anything that would be considered a “general theory” of aerial combat. It was common knowledge that Zenjirou had come from a world far removed from this one, but now Yngvi knew they had enough of a history in aerial combat to have formed a general theory about it.

“I see.”

Although the prince recognized that Zenjirou didn’t want to talk about it anymore and accommodated him, he also internally decided that he was going to get much closer to his brother-in-law.

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆

It was several hours later that there was a change. Both Zenjirou and Yngvi, having already returned to their chairs, let out noises of confusion as the view outside the window was suddenly cut off. Earlier, they had tried out most of the other functions, turning the front, rear, and both sides partially transparent. They had been enjoying the ride while looking out at the scenery and sky, but it had all returned to the ash-gray color of the walls.

Reflexively, Zenjirou turned to look at the panel in the center of the sleigh. In the center of the panel itself were large words that said, “Control disabled,” and “Please be seated.”

Yngvi’s gaze seemed to have been dragged to the panel along with Zenjirou’s. “‘Control disabled,’ ‘please be seated’?”

“We’re probably near Utgard,” Zenjirou explained immediately. “So we can’t change things from inside now.”

Flights on Earth required you to put your seat belt on and turn off any electronics that you’d been allowed to use for the rest of the flight when it came to takeoff and landing, so it was probably a similar situation. The difference was that they’d been forcibly stopped from looking outside, but even Zenjirou could assume that this was to hide the exact location of Utgard. Yngvi was considerably more cunning, so he’d also have realized that.

“I see. Then let us wait peacefully.” His actions and posture—sitting still and upright in his chair—matched his words, but his expression was still filled with irrepressible excitement and joy.

About thirty minutes passed after the controls had been disabled before the panel finally changed to say, “Landing complete.” The slight sense of weightlessness had indicated to Zenjirou that they were coming in for a landing, even without being able to see outside.

“Have we stopped?” Yngvi asked, not entirely sure of the situation.

Zenjirou thought his words over before answering carefully. “Maybe? We might have landed but still be traveling on the ground.”

With the lack of visibility, it was hard to distinguish between being stationary and moving at a constant speed. The request to be seated had been replaced with “landing complete,” but the controls were still showing as disabled. Therefore, all they could do was guess blindly.

“In a sleigh, though?”

Zenjirou considered the comment. “Ah, right. It would be rather difficult to travel on Earth with a sleigh. I can’t feel any shaking, so even if we are moving, it might just be low-altitude flight. Something like floating just above the ground,” he suggested, holding his hands around ten centimeters apart to demonstrate. He was picturing the hover cars he had often seen in older sci-fi movies, vehicles that used some unknown mechanism to float and simply traveled in a straight line.

Indeed, the mechanism that the flight thus far had used was definitely unknown to them, so it wouldn’t be unthinkable. Then again, the “landing complete” notice would technically be false.

While he was considering that, the text saying that the controls had been disabled vanished, replaced by the previous array of five options.

“Brother.”

“Right.”

Zenjirou nodded slightly as his brother-in-law stared at him with eyes sparkling just like his second wife’s. He touched the panel to turn all four walls into windows. His eyes were immediately met by blinding white. The walls had become transparent, but white was the only thing they could see.

“Snowfields?” Zenjirou mumbled.

Yngvi responded, squinting against the glare from the reflected light. “It looks closer to ice than snow,” he commented. “They’re ice fields.”

An endless, flat expanse of white lay outside. Whichever of the four windows they looked through, all they could make out was paper-white ice as far as the eye could see.

“Oh, ice. Well, either way, I can see why they prefer sleighs over carriages,” Zenjirou replied.

“So can I.”

A sleigh would be far more efficient over the ice than a carriage. Despite being able to see that, there was still something bothering Zenjirou. “I can’t feel any swaying at all, so I suppose the sleigh really helps. Honestly, it more or less feels the same as when we were flying.”

His casual comment brought Yngvi back to his senses. “No, they really don’t. Normal sleighs bounce around even more than horse-drawn carriages. If you look—and can make it out from all the white—we’re on a maintained road,” he said, pointing out of the front window.

Zenjirou turned to look, straining his eyes. All he could see was that he was surrounded on all sides by white ice. The glare from the sun made it difficult to see, but his eyes gradually grew more used to it so that he could see the road Yngvi was talking about.

Their surroundings looked like a flat, featureless expanse at first. Closer inspection revealed ridges and trenches in the ice, their shadows barely visible. That was the surface of the ice field, and sliding over it would irregularly jolt the occupants of a sleigh. The one they were riding, however, wasn’t shifting at all, because the route it was taking was completely smooth. It was a line cut through the ice, unnaturally flat. It certainly qualified as a road.

“Incredible. Do you think they use magic to maintain it?” he asked.

“Probably. It would be possible to do it physically, but the effort required would be immense.”

As the two spoke, the view out of the front window finally showed something other than featureless ice. It was a black line, visible on the ice, right on the border between the white ground and blue sky, abruptly breaking the border between them.

“Is that a cliff face?” Zenjirou asked.

“It’s more like a fortification. Given how regular it is, it’s clearly man-made. I imagine Utgard lies behind it.” The excitement in Yngvi’s voice had grown even stronger.

“Its regularity? Yngvi, you can see that from here?”

“I can. My eyes aren’t as good as Freya’s, but they’re still sharp.”

“Huh, that’s incredible. Oh?”

As he spoke, Zenjirou felt that something was slightly wrong. His experiences since arriving in this world had made him learn that it was better to not ignore such feelings. So what was it? It was Yngvi saying that his eyes were good. Was he wrong about how good his eyes were? No. The prince could see that it was a man-made wall while Zenjirou could only see a dark line, so his eyes were definitely better than Zenjirou’s, at least. The true reason for Zenjirou’s sense of wrongness was set in stone with Yngvi’s next statement.

“It’s an extremely high wall, though. The ice makes it hard to judge exactly, but I’m sure it’s taller than our palace’s.”

“Oh, that’s it,” Zenjirou let slip.

“Uh? What’s it?” Yngvi asked.

“Something just felt off, and I figured out why. With how tall it is, it’s odd that we’d both notice it at the same time despite our differing eyesight. I don’t know if they’ve used magic or something else, but I think it’s hidden until you’re within a certain range.”

“Oh, I see,” he replied, tapping a palm with his fist.

They were currently in a sleigh with 360-degree visibility with nothing but flat ice in every direction. That meant that the wall itself would stick out and be visible from the horizon, in which case it was odd that Yngvi hadn’t noticed it first. All Zenjirou could make out was a murky shape above the horizon, but Yngvi had been looking straight ahead the entire time, so he should have seen it earlier. And yet, the two of them had noticed it at essentially the same time, which meant that something must have prevented Yngvi from seeing it until then.

“Incredible...” Yngvi breathed.

“It really is. I dread to think of the kind of spell it would have taken to hide something like that.”

Just as Yngvi thought, his praise, which had lacked a subject, had gone over his brother-in-law’s head, and he laughed in amusement.

The sleigh slid over the ice, approaching the massive wall. Metallic gray gates were open within it, and the sleigh passed through them. The gates seemed absurdly large to Zenjirou. The castle itself might be gargantuan, but did they need to scale the gates themselves up to match? They were tall enough that a mobile crane could have easily passed through them even with its boom extended.

“The gates move on their own as well,” Yngvi commented.

“Wouldn’t moving them physically be cruel?”

As far as he was concerned, moving them with brute strength alone would effectively be torture, but the prince shook his head.

“No. According to the histories from father, Utgard is inhabited by the descendants of giants,” he said, hinting at an explanation.

“Ah, so that’s why the gates are so large. I suppose it would make sense to move them manually, then. Uh...does that mean the representative we’re going to meet is a giant too?”

It felt foolish to ask after this long. Uppasala had given Zenjirou plenty of information on Utgard, including the truth of its ancestry. But saying “they are descended from giants” didn’t necessarily mean that it was still populated by giants. Descendants of giants and giants themselves were not necessarily the same thing. He had pictured exceptionally tall humans, but considering the scale of those gates, the giants would have been big enough to treat African elephants like lapdogs.

“Who knows? The records are at least a century old, so they are not too credible, but the depictions of their envoys were not exceptionally large.”

Zenjirou nodded at his words as the sleigh slid to a stop. “We’re here?” he asked.

“I would wager we will be switching over to that,” Yngvi said, pointing out of the window. There was a vehicle waiting, pulled by two large reindeer like the sleigh. However, this one was a carriage with four wheels beneath it.

Although outside the gate lay an endless expanse of ice, the same did not hold true for the inside. It made sense when Zenjirou thought about it. Less snow and ice would make life far easier.

While he was considering that, the door opened by itself. The wind that whistled in through the door was obviously going to be colder than Capua’s with its position in the Southern Continent, but it was also far colder than even Uppasala in the north.

“Brr, it feels like the middle of winter all right.”

“It doesn’t feel quite so cold to me,” Yngvi commented. “It’s definitely colder than Uppasala, though. Let’s hurry to the carriage.”

“Let’s,” Zenjirou agreed, easily ducking out. They didn’t really have enough with them to call it “luggage.”

“Watch your step,” Yngvi warned him.

“I will. It’s definitely slippery.”

The pair walked diagonally from the sleigh and climbed into the carriage pulled by the reindeer.

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆

As Zenjirou had expected, the carriage was much the same as the sleigh they had traveled in so far. There were, however, two differences that he noticed. The first was that the vehicle itself was on wheels, not skis. The second was that the panel inside showed “Automatic Travel” and nothing else. There was nothing they could control directly. In other words, without the ability to create windows using the panel, they were stuck with the plain gray walls, with no way to see outside.

“It’s shaking.”

“If anything, I would say it’s shaking less than I expected,” Yngvi answered. “At least for carriages. The vibration is even, so I believe the path is paved rather regularly.” His comment showed the difference in their frame of reference.

“Right. It’s less stable than the sleigh, but more stable than a normal horse-drawn carriage.”

Zenjirou thought back to riding drake-drawn carriages. The carriage they were currently in didn’t really shake in comparison. Compared to the sleigh they’d been riding so far, though, it was much rougher.

It was hardly a surprise. The sleigh had spent most of the journey flying, and after landing it had skated along ice practically polished to the smoothness of a mirror. That made Zenjirou focus more on the differences now.

I wonder what’s going on. They look pretty much the same, but they really differ in what they can do.

Overall, the actual coaches seemed all but identical. The interiors were the same, all a uniform light gray, with a panel on a pillar in the floor. It felt very different to ride in, though. The interior controls from the sleigh were also not available in this one. Put simply, it just felt like an inferior version. He wondered why.

The choice to use two models in the same series at the same time was usually because one had advantages in different ways than the other. Often the higher-spec version was more expensive to make, while the inverse was true for the lower-spec one, with the better option being more fragile while the simpler model being more capable of taking damage punishment. Therefore, there must be some benefit to using this less functional vehicle that prevented the better one from completely replacing it.

As Zenjirou was pondering that, the carriage gradually slowed and eventually came to a stop. “Stationary” and “You may alight” were displayed on the panel.

“Brother,” Yngvi prompted.

“Right, let’s get out,” he replied, standing and reaching for the door.

“Welcome, Yamai Zenjirou. Welcome, Yngvi Uppasala. I am the representative of this city, the current Rök. I only speak Ymirian. Ymirian has very little in the way of honorifics and the like, though it does have some. Therefore my words can sometimes appear rude to those who speak other languages, though I intend none of it. To avoid needless strife, I apologize in advance. My deepest regrets and apologies are offered to you both.”

Yngvi and Zenjirou had been shown to a building akin to a huge temple, and then to a similarly large room within it. Standing in that room, the man calling himself Rök bowed his head deeply. As he had indicated, his speech hardly sounded like he was addressing royalty that he was meeting for the first time. He came across as rather brusque, excepting the final apology, which was rendered much more formally. It made it feel almost like he was mocking them. But considering Utgard was essentially a city-state, he was all but its monarch.

“I am Zenjirou, spouse of Queen Aura I of the Kingdom of Capua. It is an honor to meet you, Representative Rök,” Zenjirou replied, deciding to treat him as superior in status.

“I am Yngvi, second son of King Gustav V of the Kingdom of Uppasala, Representative Rök,” Yngvi said, following suit.

“Zenjirou, Yngvi, sit and we will talk.” The way he spoke was still blunt enough that it would be entirely possible for negotiations to be called off. Still, he had explained ahead of time, and negotiations with the veiled territory were so important that neither Zenjirou nor Yngvi was foolish enough to fly off the handle over casual speech.

The two of them moved to sit down in the provided seats. As they did, Zenjirou looked around the massive room again. More specifically, the massive room in the massive temple. It wasn’t just this chamber that was large, but the building as a whole. In this instance, “huge” didn’t only refer to the size of the building and individual rooms—the entrance was massive, the door was just as big, and the handle matched its scale. The chairs and table readied for the meeting were also on the large side. The building and furniture as a whole were on a giant’s scale—the temple itself was a giant’s temple.

The thing that drew most of Zenjirou’s attention was the window. The immense space was covered with glass, far better made than he had seen in the commonwealth. The transparency of it made him think it might even be crystal rather than normal glass. It had been formed into a window fit for a giant. Although he couldn’t say for sure without getting closer, he couldn’t see a single defect in either its shape or clarity.

Of course, Zenjirou and Yngvi couldn’t sit in the giant chairs, so they were provided with normal chairs suited to their stature. The human-scale furniture looked almost like a doll house’s next to the giant items surrounding them.

Zenjirou and Yngvi sat next to each other, with the table between them and the representative. Once they had sat down, Zenjirou turned back to the man opposite them. Representative Rök was large for a human. The largest human Zenjirou had personally met was Marshal Pujol, but this man was even larger. He easily cleared two meters in height. However, he was not so tall that you would call him a giant. Even on Earth, there was a not insignificant number of people of similar height, like pro basketball players.

In fact, while the chair he was using was clearly custom-made, it was almost the same as the ones Zenjirou and Yngvi were using when placed alongside the giant chairs.

Once all three were seated, Representative Rök began the conversation. He was the one who had sent the invitation to Zenjirou and had also provided the venue, so that was to be expected.

“I offer my thanks again, Yamai Zenjirou, for accepting our sudden invitation. We of Utgard wish to negotiate with the Capuan royal family.”

Whether his immediately jumping into the main topic was due to Utgard’s traditions or his own disposition, Zenjirou found himself taken aback, but he offered a safe answer.

“You do? Although I am royalty, I am not the king and do not represent the royal family as a whole, so there are significant limits on what I can agree to here. With that proviso, I would be glad to hear you out.”

There was a lie in his words. He was the prince consort, so his authority was only slightly less than the queen’s. However, he knew that he didn’t have the ability to use that authority properly, so he put such limitations on himself.

Then again, Zenjirou’s ability to use teleportation to visit Aura for a final decision at any time meant that even with him acting as a go-between, they would be able to come to an agreement almost as quickly as a diplomat with authority on-site. This made him the most valuable form of communication: a direct line to Aura.

“Very well. Hear me out first. What we wish to commission from the Capuan royal family is transportation between worlds. From what we have heard, your lineal magic makes that possible.”

The abrupt familiarity of the topic made Zenjirou forget himself and speak plainly. “What on earth for? I want to know that first,” he demanded, all too aware of his heart pounding nervously in his chest.

“To negotiate with Utgarða.”

“Utgarða? Is that different from Utgard?”

The representative’s answers were all utterly to the point, so Zenjirou had to ask more and more. Fortunately, the ruler showed no displeasure with Zenjirou’s attitude and continued answering.

“It is.”

The problem was that his follow-up answers were just as brief.

“Exactly how? What is Utgarða?”

“Utgarða is the home of our ancestors. The world where our ancestors—the Jötunn—live. This is Utgard, the city built by those who came from Utgarða.”

The explanation matched what Zenjirou had heard from Aura and Bruno of the Twin Kingdoms. He could accept that, just as the people who had emigrated from Hiroshima had created the city Kitahiroshima.

“I have heard that the people of Utgard are descendants of giants—the Jötunn. Is that true?” he asked.

The question prompted the first real change in the representative’s expression so far. The man’s face was strong, almost carved from granite, and the expression that made its home on his features could be called a smile of almost cynical amusement.

“Our traditions hold that we carry their blood. Those like me who are particularly large are said to carry more of it, and are respected. Part of the reason I am the current Rök is likely due to my size. The Jötunn that our history discusses, though, are too different from humans, and I cannot see how they could mate together.”

After listening to his explanation, Zenjirou cast his eyes over the gargantuan pieces of furniture they were sharing a room with, then looked at the similarly large door and nodded in understanding.

“I see. Would they be a size to match the furniture?” he asked.

“So they say.”

“They say? Then it is false?”

The man opposite lifted his broad shoulders into a shrug. “It was centuries ago. So many generations have passed since we lived alongside each other. There is no one to corroborate it, so I can’t say for sure. The physical evidence is there, though, so I would say it is true.”

Some of the furniture in the massive temple would have been remade recently, but much of it came from the city’s founding. Of those, some of them, like the sofa, had depressions in the middle of the cushions. The door knob was worn to a shine, so there was no other conclusion to draw but that giants had used it.

“We have weapons sized for giants in our armories as well. The handles are well-worn, so I think it’s almost certain they existed. Oh, there is one more thing. It is less hard evidence and more just a clue. I can ‘show’ you what a Jötunn looked like if you wish?”

He can “show” me something that hasn’t existed for centuries? And despite being able to do that, it isn’t real proof? Not quite understanding, Zenjirou tilted his head.

His young brother-in-law, however, immediately inferred the meaning. “Are you speaking of illusion magic?”

“Exactly, Yngvi. I can reproduce what the previous Röks have passed down to show you.”

Illusion magic was Utgard’s lineal magic. The people who had come from Utgarða to Utgard—in other words, the founding generation—would have seen the giants with their own eyes. When they became parents or grandparents, they could use their memories to show their descendants what those beings looked like. Then, those children could use their own illusions to duplicate their ancestors’. That would repeat over and over, according to the representative.

Zenjirou could picture that process, and he couldn’t help but ask, “I... Pardon me for asking, but is it an accurate image?”

The bigger man smiled broadly. “Outsiders would naturally have to doubt that. I find it unlikely myself. After all, the Jötunn that I can reproduce are all beautiful or handsome. Yet, according to our history, they worried over their monstrous appearances.”

The Jötunn were objects of reverence for the people of Utgard. So the combination of the caster’s desires and biases would gradually beautify the illusions. The blatant amusement on his face as he spoke didn’t seem to suggest much respect for them, though.

“I see. Then if you would?” Zenjirou asked. His request was driven more by curiosity than an attempt to gather information.

“Very well. If you would look at the Jötunn seat over there,” the ruler gestured.

Zenjirou and Yngvi did so. Out of caution, or for whatever reason, the representative covered his mouth so that his lips couldn’t be read before speaking so quietly it was impossible to hear. The results were immediately apparent. Zenjirou gasped.

“Wow!” Yngvi exclaimed.

The figure was certainly a giant. While Zenjirou had no idea how long giants lived, if he were a human, he would have looked to be in his thirties.