Risou no Himo Seikatsu - Volume 15 - Chapter 4

Chapter 4 — The Queen Plots, the Prince Consort Travels

Logfort was a port in the country of Uppasala connected to the capital through canals and Lake Mater. It was a link to the other countries in the north and a rapidly developing port city.

There was a building some way from the center of the town, and there was a person walking through it. It was likely their first time in the building, and it showed in how they stopped periodically to look around. However, they were moving relatively quickly considering it was their first time there and they were traveling in darkness. That led to the conclusion that this person had to move through darkness as part of their regular duties. If they were actually an uninvited guest, it would be terrible. The figure had already reached the rear entrance and slipped in without a sound like a shadow.

“Commander Yan, it is an honor that you have accepted our invitation. I offer you my gratitude.”

“Oh, Your Majesty, Zenjirou, if I recall. Frankly, it is rather surprising that you are behind all this.”

King Gustav had given permission for Zenjirou to use teleportation in this building on the outskirts of Logfort, and he was currently sitting on a sofa in the room as he greeted the mercenary Yan.

Shockingly, Zenjirou was the only one present. He had teleported directly there from Capua. He was also allowed to teleport to the embassy in the capital, but he was using this building because they hadn’t even notified Uppasala.

He shook his head with a rueful smile at that. “I am afraid you are overestimating me. I am here as nothing more than a messenger. The complete picture comes from above me.” He shrugged. Although he had managed to feign calm, the mercenary’s unexpected response had sent his heart practically beating out of his chest. He had never expected he’d be mistaken for the ringleader.

Thinking about it logically, though, the misunderstanding was hardly a surprise. If you were unaware of the existence of the game-changing magic of teleportation, a single royal alone in the room the letter had specified would certainly make it seem like that person was behind everything. Therefore, the doubtful snort from the commander was in some ways the correct response.

“Are you still playing the fool even now?”

“I am not. It is simply a matter of procedure. How much do you know of the lineal magics of royal families?”

“Hm? They are just specific types of magic that some royal families have, no?”

The unexpected question had surprised him and prompted an honest answer. Strictly speaking, “some” was incorrect. Even on the Northern Continent, more than half the royal families had lineal magic, so it should have been “most.” However, from the perspective of most people living on the Northern Continent, it wasn’t exactly wrong. That was simply how much weaker the association between royal families and lineal magic had become there. As a result of their almost reckless abandon with marriages, there were not only members of foreign royal families with lineal magic that was not their own, but even some simple nobility. The Graz family’s expansion magic was one of those examples.

This was partly because the advanced technologies of the Northern Continent had lowered the value of minor lineal magic, and there was only magic of that level left among their lineal magics. If there had been any on a similar level to those considered strongest on the Southern Continent—Capua’s space-time, Tucale’s divination, Burke’s celestial, and the Twin Kingdoms’s enchanting and healing—history likely wouldn’t have gone the same way.

Either way, Yan’s view of lineal magic was the norm on the Northern Continent, and it was completely incompatible with that of the South.

“In our royal family of Capua, part of the lineal magic is a spell called teleportation. As the name implies, it can instantly move a target to a distant location. I am here through that magic to send you to the person who is, as you say, behind this. I would appreciate your acceptance.”

“I see, so that is how it works. Very well. However, should you be telling me such a secret?”

Viewed from the outside, teleportation was a trump card the likes of which was seldom seen. Informing someone of it made it far less effective than it being kept secret. However, Zenjirou shrugged lightly.

“It doesn’t matter. It is common knowledge on the Southern Continent,” he answered truthfully.

In fact, Yan was about to be made aware of something literally top secret, never mind teleportation, and that was more of a concern. Still, taking too long here would worry Aura where she was waiting, so he moved the conversation along.

“You arrived after having seen the letter, so I assume you prepared what we requested?”

The mercenary nodded briefly at the question, removing something from a metal box at his waist. The rabbit in his hand squeaked weakly. In the letter, Aura had requested he bring an animal that could be killed and was no larger than the box, so this fulfilled the conditions.

Although the candlelight was dim, the rabbit was clearly hale and hearty. Therefore, Zenjirou reluctantly gave the instructions he had to.

“It certainly is alive. Well then, please kill it.”

There was a pause. “Right here?” Yan’s right eyebrow lifted doubtfully at the instruction.

“Yes. Finish it here and take it with you.”

The reason for having Yan bring an animal that could be killed here was to prove that time reversal would mend its wounds. Capua could have prepared a corpse, but that would have left room for it to be some kind of trick, hence asking the mercenary to prepare his own animal cadaver. The reason they had not asked him to bring a corpse was to minimize the amount of mana necessary for it. An older corpse, even a small one, might be beyond Aura’s reserves alone.

Part of it was also the matter of transporting it via teleportation. There was a fundamental understanding that a single casting of the spell could only transport one living thing. It seemed to be a strict requirement, but there were many contradictions if you examined things more closely. The general rule was that a single casting would only take one living thing and the inanimate objects on their person. However, Zenjirou’s vague memories of school told him that almost every living person had countless face mites and the like. If the general rule was correct, then after he had teleported, there would be a pile of them where he had been standing, but that didn’t happen.

Besides, there was also gut flora, which were, strictly speaking, living organisms. If each teleportation wiped out the gut biome, it would be a definite health hazard. He had wondered if it might be related to the lack of mana, but Zenjirou had magic tools on his person—the Windhammer and the teleportation pendant—and was able to use the spell without issue, so that mustn’t be it either. He’d wondered what would happen if he cast the spell on something like a snake after it had swallowed another animal whole and alive, but there was no way he’d be able to muster the willpower to cast it on such a dangerous creature, so he hadn’t been able to test it out. He’d eventually decided that thinking about it too deeply was pointless and chalked it up to one of the mysteries of magic.

Killing a rabbit was practically an everyday action for a mercenary as a food source, so Yan had no real reason to hesitate. “Very well,” he said, before wrenching the captive rabbit’s neck around with frighteningly practiced movements. The rabbit died so quickly that it probably hadn’t felt any pain. “Will that suffice?”

Seeing the man kill the animal bare-handed had shaken Zenjirou. “It...is. I shall send you now. Send that which...”

His first attempt failed, but his second succeeded, and considering Zenjirou’s disposition, that was a significant improvement. While the process was completely familiar to Zenjirou, it was the first time the mercenary was experiencing it, and he hadn’t even known of its existence beforehand. Therefore, despite all of Zenjirou’s explanations, it still took him a few seconds to understand the situation he was in after the spell had been cast.

It was a failure he would be ashamed of as a veteran mercenary. A few seconds could mean death on the battlefield.

“Welcome, Commander Yan. I am Queen Aura I of Capua, wife of Zenjirou, who sent you here.”

The calm, dignified voice of the queen finally let him understand the position he was in. He was currently standing in a dimly lit room. The floor, ceiling, and all four walls were made of stone. If Zenjirou’s words were true, this would be a room in the royal palace of Capua on the Southern Continent, but he had no way of verifying that.

Even so, his sharp awareness meant that he understood there had been a change that could not be normally explained. The change in question was the difference in the air. Moments ago he had been in Uppasala, where the atmosphere was cold and dry. The air in this room, though, was hot and humid. The difference was enough that the brazier burning in the middle of the chamber couldn’t account for it.

There was also a distinct difference in the scent of the area. In his long history working as a mercenary, Yan had experienced much of the Northern Continent’s weather and could intuitively understand that this was not the same place.

There were four other people in the room with him. One was a woman in her twenties who had introduced herself as the country’s queen, Aura. There was also a middle-aged woman in a maid uniform behind her, plus two soldiers flanking them with leather armor and short spears. They were wearing leather helms, so he couldn’t tell their age, but he could see they were well trained.

The maid was the only one of them he recognized. She had been at Zenjirou’s side when they had met in the hotel. There was no doubt as to the connection between them. Internally, he let go of some of his wariness.

All four of them were fairly dark-skinned, and outside of the maid, he had never seen clothing like that worn by any of the other three. All of those small pieces of information came together to let him accept that this was an unknown world to him—the Southern Continent. For the time being, he decided to proceed under the assumption that what Zenjirou had told him was true, that he’d arrived via teleportation to Capua on the Southern Continent, and that the woman in front of him was its queen.

“Ma’am. I lead a small mercenary group on the Northern Continent and am called Yan. It is an honor to meet you, Your Majesty.”

He bowed. His words and actions were fundamentally that of a Northern mercenary, so they were different from the norm in Capua, but they were refined enough not to cause offense even with completely new civilizations.

“Indeed. This is an extremely private matter, and neither of us are blessed with time, so I cannot provide much in the way of a welcome. I suppose you would prefer that as well, though. It is an extremely plain provision, but I have prepared seating, so let us sit and talk. I wager you have that much time at least, no?”

“Of course,” the single-eyed mercenary agreed. “However, it is rather convenient that there is a fire here. I would like to place this within it, if that would be acceptable?”

He lifted the rabbit as he spoke.

Aura lifted an eyebrow. “I do not mind, but I would ask why.”

“I wish to match the situations as closely as possible. Priest Yan was burned to death.”

His voice was low as he spoke and sounded like it came from deep within the ground. However, Aura would not flinch from that.

“Very well. Do as you wish,” she said curtly.

Now that he had permission, he strode up to the fire and hurled the rabbit’s corpse in without hesitation. There was the foul stench of burning fur, followed briefly by the fragrance of cooking meat. With those scents filling the room, Aura and Yan sat in the seats that had been specially added to the room. The two chairs and the table between them were all plain and made of wood, with the absolute minimum of quality to be fit for royal use.

Once the maid had placed cups of tea in front of both of them, the conversation began.

“So then, Commander Yan, considering you have accepted the invitation to teleport here, can I assume that you are willing to accept our suggestion as outlined in the letter?”

Aura’s opening move was to get some form of commitment from him, and his lips lifted into a smirk.

“I am certainly exceptionally interested, but whether I accept will be determined by our conversation.”

“Of course. Though with that said, there is little I can say here that was not already contained within our missive. Our lineal magic contains a spell that can restore things that have been destroyed. Using that, it would be possible to restore a corpse, however damaged it has been. Of course, the corpse must be nearby, and it is just restoring the body, not performing a miracle such as reanimating it. If you can accept that and bring the corpse to me, I can restore it.”

“There are several things I would like to confirm first, if that would be acceptable, Your Majesty?”

“You may ask whatever questions you wish, and I guarantee that our dealings will not be colored by them. However, I will not necessarily answer everything.”

“Very well,” Yan answered after a pause at her blatant calculation, his gray eye sharpening. “Your missive reached me almost immediately after news of the execution. Were you aware of my location the whole time?”

“That is correct.”

“Does that in turn mean that you could have contacted me before the execution if you wished?”

“That is correct.”

“Would it have been possible to rescue him with your and His Majesty’s aid?”

“I have no answer for you.”

“Had I not seen your missive, I would certainly have attacked. I am confident that there would have been some uproar on the Northern Continent if I had done so—particularly within the church. So is your desire to limit the chaos on the Northern Continent?”

“I have no answer for you.”

“That makes no sense, though. The church’s strongholds are currently strengthening their naval abilities. That itself would be a threat to the Southern Continent. With His Majesty Zenjirou being your spouse, there is no way you would not realize that. Despite that, you stopped me from causing chaos on the Northern Continent and within the church. That seems to go against your best interests as royalty of the Southern Continent. Or has Capua already contacted the church?”

“I have no answer for you.”

Silence fell as Yan examined her expression, trying to read her intentions in her face rather than her words. It was one of the fundamental techniques of negotiation. Leading a mercenary group, he had needed to become skilled in negotiation and bargaining whether he wanted to or not. Negotiating with an employer was generally the leader’s job, and if he couldn’t see through an employer who merely wanted to chew him up and spit him out, it could lead to the deaths of the whole group, himself included.

Even his keen eye could glean little from Aura’s expression, though. She was the monarch of the country that had emerged from the great war victorious, so she was naturally well-versed in such matters. Fortunately, she did not rush the man, simply remaining silent after she had answered each question.

Silence from the monarch of a country of Capua’s stature was weighty in itself, but Yan wasn’t going to falter at just that now. He remained sitting in his chair, knees apart as he screwed his eye shut and thought things over. He considered what he wanted to accomplish, what he could risk for it, and the potential problems. Additionally, he considered what Aura would want for bringing this to his attention.

He was not possessed of such superlative insight that he could discern a person’s abilities and personality after a single meeting. He was someone who felt that to know a person, it was more important to investigate their past actions and words than to meet them. So although he would never say that he knew her well enough, he had at least a minimum idea of both her personality and abilities.

She was the queen of a huge nation, so she would have a decent amount of skill and self-awareness. Therefore, her judgments, suggestions, and plans would befit her rank. The problem was—as he had said before—this all seemed to contradict that.

It was frightening to take someone’s assistance when you had no idea of their goals or what they stood to gain from it. If he had still been ready to rampage, he would have thought nothing of it and leaped at the chance, but now that he had regained his calm, his actions were dictated by his natural reasoning abilities. He was responsible for a mercenary group, even if it was a small one, and he didn’t want to throw his or his men’s lives away for nothing.

Once he had concluded his deliberations, his decision was to follow through with the course he was on.

“Very well, I shall accept your proposal. However, I wish to see proof first,” he said, his single gray eye darting to the brazier. The corpse was little more than a blackened mass now.

Aura’s gaze was pulled along with his. “It seems about time, yes. Very well, I shall show you. Place it on the table.”

“Understood. I will borrow your tongs, then.”

He stood as he spoke. There was always a fire burning in this room, so there was a constant reserve of logs, water to extinguish them in an emergency, tongs to safely handle burning items, and so on. He picked up the tongs off the wall and, with practiced movements likely resulting from how much time he’d spent making camp over the years, used them to retrieve the rabbit’s corpse from the fire.

Fortunately, it was still a single piece, but its ears had long since burned away, so it would be hard to tell that it was a rabbit without having known ahead of time. Of course, since he had taken it from the fire, it was still burning. Yan placed it on the stone floor and scooped up some water before dropping it onto the burning corpse. Then, just in case, he used his booted foot to tread on it and carefully turn it over to make sure it was properly extinguished. Only then did he use the tongs to pick it up again.

The burnt, doused, and trodden-on rabbit was practically unrecognizable and barely holding together. He used the tongs to bring it to the table and placed it in front of Aura.

“Does that work?” he asked.

Even with the charred remains in front of her eyes and nose, she didn’t flinch.

“It is. I will give you your proof. Do not approach, though; you ought to be able to see well enough from there.”

“Very well.” The mercenary stayed where he was. She was right in that the remains were completely visible on the table from his position.

The spell she was about to use was time reversal. It was one of the most closely guarded spells of space-time magic and wasn’t even publicly acknowledged. Never mind foreigners, there were exceptionally few even within Capua who knew of its existence.

That was precisely why they were within this stone room, where only those most trusted by royalty would be guarding the secret. The fact that she was even casting it in front of a mere mercenary showed just how much of a threat she considered the Northern Continent.

Aura covered her mouth with her left hand to prevent her lips from being read and pointed her right towards the rabbit’s remains before incanting the spell.

“Let time’s flow reverse upon this object by one full day. As compensation, I present...”

The magic’s effect was dramatic. The blackened husk of the rabbit on the table was enveloped in light, and a split second later, the glow intensified enough that it was impossible to look directly at it.

“Guh?!”

Even Commander Yan had to screw his single ashen eye shut at the light that had filled the room. Once he opened it again, it was all over.

The rabbit—its fur having been burned away to nothing and even anything that would normally be edible having all but vanished—was now fluffy and looked just as it had before its death.

“May I pick it up?” he asked after a moment.

“I have no objection. Check it until you are satisfied.”

With the queen’s permission, he moved closer to the table and gingerly lifted the corpse.

Its fur was damp. There was no sign of injury or scorching on it, though. From its looks alone, it was impossible to distinguish it from a live rabbit. Yan was shocked to feel a faint warmth to it as he lifted it. It was no lingering heat from the flames. No, it was the warmth you could feel in a creature’s blood when you cut it while alive.

Contrary to appearances, though, the rabbit was certainly dead. As he focused on the sensations from his hand, he could feel the warmth slowly draining away. He pushed open its eyelids, seeing completely vacant eyes behind them.

“I see... It has indeed been restored. Still, a corpse is a corpse.”

As he spoke, he subtly checked the rabbit’s left ear. Its overall fur was a dark brown, but in the middle of its left ear was an inverted triangle of black fur. Seeing the triangle, he was sure that this was no trickery and the rabbit was indeed the one he had brought with him.

Since he had pulled the rabbit out in Logfort until this very moment, he’d held the rabbit with its ears together, so there was no way anyone would have been able to see the ear. This was his precaution against some kind of con where they presented him with a very similar rabbit’s corpse.

He’d believed the chances to be low to begin with. After all, the only stipulation he’d been given was “a small creature of some kind.” There was no guarantee that he would have brought a rabbit. A rat, cat, puppy, weasel, or many other animals would have equally fulfilled those conditions. It would be all but impossible for them to have one of each of them ready to switch out if needed. Hiding the pattern on its ear had been a final safeguard.

“So it seems you understand,” Aura said, reading that understanding in his expression as well as his words. She smiled as if urging him on to a decision.

The mercenary firmed his resolve and nodded shallowly. “I have. I believe you would be capable of restoring his remains, Your Majesty.”

Putting it into words made him all the more aware of the hope raging within him. The tension had vanished from his face to be replaced by a sort of desire. He had been unable to rescue his priest, and the man had been burned to death, leaving only bones behind. To the dragon faith, dead bodies were a precious, sacred thing. Any harm that was done to a body needed to be repaired to the extent that it could be. Blemishes would be cleaned, and it would be dressed in its clothes from life and placed within a coffin before being buried. Those were the normal funeral rites for the faith. That was a shared characteristic of both the claw and fang denominations, as well as the two countries that had diverged from those faiths.

“Your Majesty, this is my final question.”

The queen silently bade him to continue.

“Are your schemes going to disadvantage me?”

That final question was in fact the height of rudeness. Personally, he was expecting her to continue her earlier refusal to answer. If she didn’t outright refute that she was scheming, it would practically be an admission in and of itself.

He was a seasoned mercenary, well aware that nobility and royalty plotted and schemed as a matter of course, using those weaker than themselves for their own causes. At the same time, though, he also knew that those who stood at the head of their countries, leading them from above, could also act at a whim, saving a commoner’s life.

While it was fundamentally his own value system, he also felt that there were fewer acts more pointless than wasting time, money, and effort to divine an ulterior motive that didn’t actually exist. He had therefore asked the question to at least dismiss the possibility that this was an honest gift with nothing hidden behind it.

The queen considered it for a few moments before speaking. “Hmm...not intentionally, at least. This is based on my own assumptions, but if things go the way I see them progressing, I believe the results will not be something you are against.”

She kept her expression controlled as she spoke. She knew that the way you said something as well as how you behaved while doing so was just as important as what you said. Hence the awareness she kept of both her tone and face here when the most important words were being said. Deceiving your negotiation partner required even more focus on both, but fortunately, that was not necessary here...whether those efforts bore fruit or not.

“Very well,” the mercenary replied eventually. “I shall accept. His corpse will be retrieved and brought to you, so I ask that you fulfill your part when the time comes.” He bowed his head deeply as he spoke.

“I swear I shall. There are restrictions, though. I cannot explain in detail due to its link to the spell itself, but there is a time limit: half a year from Priest Yan’s death.”

In truth, the mana in the magic tool meant that she should be able to wind back a human-sized object by around a year, but there was a need for some margin for error. The words were no great shock to the mercenary.

“Half a year. That should be more than enough,” he said, the confidence clear in his voice.

“Will it? The remains will be within the church’s heartland, no?”

“It will not be an issue. There are many there who are sympathetic to us, even if not publicly so.” His voice had taken on a tinge of pride as he spoke. The priest’s achievements and popularity were simply that meaningful to him—even if the target of that admiration had already passed on.

“I see. Then take care with your target. There will be no second chances.”

Yan considered her words, imagining retrieving the corpse from the church and having it fixed through the spell she had just shown him. It would still be a corpse, but one restored so thoroughly it could have seemed alive. But what if that corpse was not Priest Yan, but someone entirely different?

He felt a shudder of fear run through his body. There was no small chance of such a thing happening. After all, the remains would be blackened and rendered down to little but bone. Determining exactly what was and was not from one person would be difficult. He wasn’t sure he’d manage to maintain his sanity if he wasted his only chance on a mistake.

“I shall ensure there are no mistakes,” he said, determination firm in his voice.

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆

With the agreement in place, Aura sent the mercenary back to Logfort, having been sent there herself by Zenjirou in secret to make that possible.

While Uppasala was part of the Northern Continent, it was almost in the far north, and far from the church’s influence. Yan would simply have to make his own way from that point. There should be little issue, since Logfort was a bustling, prosperous port. People would doubtless be coming and going, so no one was likely to stand out too much.

As a mercenary, long-distance travel was one of Yan’s specialties. He had also been stopped before beginning to rampage, so the church wouldn’t see him as an enemy yet. Of course, they had purposefully waited until he was separated from the priest before striking, so they would at least be wary of him. Still, with the man not having publicly moved against them, they would not be overly cautious.

Therefore, it would likely be no real challenge for him to use his skills to conceal himself and make his way back to the church’s strongholds. Still, things would need to cool down before he could hide right under their noses. Either way, Capua had nothing more they could contribute at this point.

Several days after the meeting, an expected report reached the royal palace: the Glasir’s Leaf had arrived in Valentia. Freya had already left the ship, so its current captaincy was held by the previous vice captain, Magnus. That didn’t change that it carried important allied guests, though. Therefore, Zenjirou was preparing to head there as a representative of the royal family.

Naturally, with the Glasir’s Leaf arriving, Freya was also heading for Valentia. Within the country or not, there was no way that both of them would be allowed to go with only a single guard and no assistants. Therefore, it was five days after the ship had docked that Zenjirou arrived.

Immediately after recovering from the characteristic sense of dizziness from teleporting, Zenjirou was greeted by dazzling sunlight. He had arrived in a room in the governor’s building. The strength of the light coupled with the salty scent on the breeze practically shouted his location.

“Welcome back, Sir Zenjirou,” the governor, Damian, said. The entire duchy, including the city, were practically under the direct control of the royal family, and the man tasked with its daily running was, of course, well trusted by them.

“My thanks, Lord Damian. I will be in your care for a while. Pardon the hurry, but is there a meeting room ready?”

The man gave a respectful bow at his question. “Of course. Assuming you are ready, I shall guide you there.”

The people from the Glasir’s Leaf were a given, but Freya and her guard—Skaji—had already arrived. Zenjirou was the final arrival.

“Very well. Let us be off shortly.” Indeed, after one last check over his third uniform from a maid just in case, Zenjirou left the room.

“It is good to see you, Captain Magnus. I am glad to see your skills have seen you safely cross between the continents yet again,” Zenjirou said, greeting the delegation from the ship without standing.

“It has been a while, Your Majesty. An honor to meet you again.” While he spoke formally and bowed as etiquette demanded, both the man’s words and actions were unrefined enough for even Zenjirou to notice. He was a man of the sea who had learned a bare minimum of manners.

Capua had always had a history of ignoring the particular behaviors of warriors and those who worked with their hands. As long as they showed respect in their own way it didn’t matter. Time spent polishing their manners would be better spent polishing their craft.

The two parties were sitting on either side of a long table. Freya was next to Zenjirou, and while he felt somewhat uneasy about having her on his side of the table when meeting those of the Glasir’s Leaf, it was the correct seating arrangement for their current relationship. Freya was not here as the ship’s captain, but as his wife.

Once the greetings were dispensed with, the captain and governor moved on to practical matters, those being the condition of the ship, the necessary trades, how free the sailors were to act in the city, and whose responsibility it would be if they caused trouble.

On the whole, it was much the same as the last time the ship had arrived, but there were still differences. The captain was now Magnus—a single sailor—rather than a member of the royal family, and Valentia now had a repair dock suitable for the ship’s size under construction. It was planned as a construction dock for the future.

“So, the repairs will take place at our new dock. The costs will be taken on by Uppasala. Is that acceptable?” Damian asked.

Uppasala’s ambassador, Frederick, and Captain Magnus nodded.

“Indeed, we are happy to accept.”

“We have no issues.”

The ship was a valuable one capable of intercontinental travel, and unlike Magnus—who was a simple captain—the ambassador represented the country as a whole. His discretionary powers allowed him to use a certain amount of the country’s treasury.

There was a general framework in place between the two nations that dictated how the ship would be dealt with and who would pay for things, so the conversation ended without issue. What had not gone as planned was an unexpected addition to the ship’s passengers.

Zenjirou knew that he was the one who should be leading the conversation for this part, so after a deep breath that he kept inaudible to his surroundings, he spoke. “It seems we are in agreement. So I would appreciate an introduction to our guest,” he said, directing his gaze to the unfamiliar middle-aged man at the edge of the Uppasalan delegation.

This unexpected guest was the reason that Frederick had needed to come all this way. Everyone else’s gazes followed his to focus on the man, who looked to be roughly in his thirties. His hair was somewhere between a dark blond and a light brown and was cut and styled neatly. While it was difficult to maintain personal grooming aboard a ship, the Glasir’s Leaf had been docked for several days already. He had likely dealt with it then.

At a glance, he stood at a little less than 180 centimeters, tall for the Southern Continent but perfectly average for the Sveans of Uppasala. There was a certain amount of training visible on his body, but far less than a dedicated warrior. His appearance should have been nothing particularly noteworthy, but it was impossible to dismiss the man himself as such at a glance.

Stares from foreign royalty, former royalty of his own country, and an ambassador of his own lands were focused upon him, and yet he seemed perfectly at ease. There was a light smile on his face as he relaxed in this chair. Even if it was a bluff and an act, the feat was not an easy one.

It was not Magnus that responded to his question, but the ambassador. “Allow me to introduce you. This is Professor Petr Rinne. He is a leading voice in the study of nature in our country.”

“I am Rinne, if I may,” the professor said, standing. “It is an honor to make your acquaintance, Your Majesty.” With that, he bowed.

“I have heard of your renown, Professor Rinne. I am glad to make your acquaintance as well. While I am disappointed to tell you this, the words come from none other than King Gustav, so I must.”

Despite his king’s name leaving Zenjirou’s lips, Rinne remained smiling softly.

“He instructs you to return.”

In fact, Rinne’s response to the order coming directly from his king was to merely tilt his head.

“I have, of course, heard His Majesty’s command. However, my discretion allows me to prioritize fieldwork over such orders.” His response was not directed to Zenjirou, but the ambassador at his side.

The objection was, in a sense, correct. Those who held the role of professor in Uppasala’s university were allowed to prioritize their own fieldwork over royal decrees when they were away for the long term. However, that was nothing more than an exceptional right to avoid the risk of disobeying an order when it was difficult for others to reach them. For example, if they were told to return within a certain number of days but fell victim to bad weather, or if they were attacked by animals in a region where hunting was forbidden. In those cases, the right was given to prevent unavoidable accidents from restricting their work, so there was an argument to be made for him abusing it now.

Fortunately, though, the king had predicted this reaction as well. Zenjirou gave an exaggerated sigh.

“Incidentally, I also have a message from Smith Völundr. There is an ore he wishes you to search for. He is a smith of Capua, and Capua is of course willing to take responsibility for his commission. We are therefore willing to work so you can accept it. More specifically, we are working with His Majesty so you are able to return here as soon as possible after going back to Uppasala. Naturally, the travel between our two nations will be through teleportation.”

The smile on the professor’s face was clearly different from the faux smile he’d had so far. “Very well. I, Petr Rinne, will follow that order and return home.”

Zenjirou felt like he was about to forget the formal setting he was currently in given how easily he agreed. However, that abruptness matched what he had heard from Gustav and Yngvi about the man. Yngvi had said, “Professor Rinne is, at his heart, a creature of his desires. However, those desires are mainly to fulfill his curiosity, so he can appear both more logical and more sociable than anyone at a glance.”

In other words, he was usually the logical and affable professor because behaving like that was convenient for satisfying his desires, or rather his curiosity. However, he could also be unbelievably decisive when it came down to it. Boarding the Glasir’s Leaf by practically stowing away was one of those occasions. Without knowing about Zenjirou’s teleportation, he would have needed to wait over a year to come to the Southern Continent if he’d missed the ship.

It was possible that he would never discover the differences in nature between the two continents if he missed the opportunity. And so, despite knowing the risk of losing his position, he had still done so.

His reason for the practical sophistry he was using to refuse it was because he felt that returning now could well see him never setting foot on the Southern Continent again. Therefore, Zenjirou giving him the assurance of a commission from Völundr that he could only carry out here was a guarantee that he could return, so his behavior had practically shifted with the wind.

“I am glad you understand,” Zenjirou said with a hint of tiredness in his voice.

The professor’s smile remained soft and unchanging, and the ambassador at his side ducked his head in slight embarrassment.

While convincing the professor to return to Uppasala was important, it was far from Zenjirou’s main goal here, which was to see the current state of the ship and discuss the future. Thus, Zenjirou, Freya, Frederick, and Magnus had all come to the ship’s mooring place.

“It looks rather different here,” Zenjirou remarked as he saw the port itself.

The sights had certainly changed significantly since the last time he had been there. The biggest difference that was visible at a glance was the presence of large cranes. They were made of wood, strengthened with metal at the joints. They were powered by physical labor, but they had a distinct sense of foreignness on the Southern Continent.

Even now they were lifting huge pieces of lumber to be fastened to the immobilized ship. Lifting such huge pieces of wood to such heights with man power alone was close to impossible. In fact, Zenjirou didn’t know how they’d repaired and constructed boats without such cranes so far. Perhaps the lack of them was one of the main reasons Capua had yet to build any ships large enough to sail between the continents.

Those working in the area had of course noticed the group, but in Capua, those at work were allowed to continue unless he spoke to them directly. Zenjirou was well aware from personal experience that a superior coming to watch you work was not a welcome thing, so he did his best to stay out of the way of anything they were doing. Then again, he had not come solely to waste time and satisfy his curiosity. He was there in his role as royalty, so he couldn’t just stand around.

“Is that crane something the craftsmen from Uppasala built?” he asked.

Freya nodded at his side. “It is. Our—Uppasala’s—craftsmen did so. The majority of them are shipwrights, but there is also a bare minimum of prerequisites for the field.”

In some respects, that was better than the way labor was divided in the modern world. These days, if you were to ask a car mechanic to build a jack, hydraulic pump, and air pump required for servicing a car from scratch, very few of them would actually be able to do so. However, while the level of technology wasn’t as great as the modern world, this world’s craftsmen hadn’t specialized as much, so a skilled worker could do everything from the beginning.

Being at the pinnacle of smiths, Völundr could, if he wished, create the firebricks needed for a furnace from scratch. While the shipwrights were not on the same level as him, they were all skilled in their craft and together could build anything they needed for the ship’s repair.

“The plans were to create a dry dock for larger ships, but can I assume that those plans will be delayed?”

“Indeed. The men and materials originally planned for it are being diverted to repairing the Glasir’s Leaf, so construction on the dock will inevitably be delayed,” the aging Svean craftsman in charge said.

Zenjirou remembered the report he’d read through on the dock. A dry dock was, as the name implied, a dock for a ship that could be drained of water. Using a dry dock allowed the exterior below the waterline to be inspected and repaired.

Without using one, all that could be done to the ship was simple servicing. Of course, Valentia was one of the largest ports in the country and had several dry docks. However, they were for the ships that Capua used and weren’t suitable for a ship of the four-masted Glasir’s Leaf’s size. It would be like trying to fit a horse into a dog’s kennel.

“I have ordered some water manipulation magic tools from the Twin Kingdoms. Would they be useful for the dry dock?” Zenjirou asked.

The other man’s face hardened at that. “Well, I can say that they would be useful, but I cannot be optimistic about how useful. A dry dock for a ship of this size involves a staggering amount of water.”

With the lack of powered pumps, dry docks in this world relied on the tide. They docked a ship within a gated waterway, waited for the tide to go out, and then sealed the floodgates.

It went without saying that this required a significant amount of engineering. To use the tide to drain water from a dock meant investigating natural phenomena and creating the dock somewhere conditions were suitable. It was possible to create one only to realize the change in seasons meant that it didn’t fully drain or refill and was therefore impossible to use.

Meanwhile, powered pumps made those conditions far looser. All you needed was a passage with enough of a draft for the ships and floodgates. However, it went without saying that those pumps didn’t exist on either the Southern Continent or even the more advanced Northern Continent. Zenjirou had hopes that the magic tools for water manipulation would suffice in place of them, but that was unclear at the moment.

As the older man had said, it was unlikely they would be useless, but it was entirely possible they wouldn’t be enough. They didn’t know how much water would be needed for either the dock or what the tools could control. However, even if they were not useful for the dock itself, they would be a godsend for keeping water out from the hull. Since they wouldn’t go to waste, Zenjirou had already ordered them.

“This is a major construction. We have already accounted for the time it will take, including delays in the schedule. The quality of the work is more important than its speed. Make sure that it is up to long-term use,” he said.

Standing here as a superior, it was frustrating that the work wasn’t being finished, but Zenjirou knew that stressing that to the workers would only worsen their morale and not actually help, so he kept his voice and expression relatively gentle.

“Understood,” the older man replied, bowing as the tension left his shoulders.

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆

Zenjirou and Freya were mainly in Valentia to receive the group from the Glasir’s Leaf into the country and to send the professor back to Uppasala. They had also checked on the progress of the dock and shipbuilding facilities being built in the city, but after having come all this way, there were other matters they wished to see to while in the area.

After two nights in the estate and sending the professor to his homeland, the next day was spent heading south to Alcott.

Alcott: the word was initially nothing more than a name designating an uninhabited region of territory under the direct control of the crown. When Freya married Zenjirou, though, she had gained the title of the Duchess of Alcott, which was to be a historical turning point. At least, that was the plan.

Princess Freya had married from a country advanced in smithing and shipbuilding, and her countrymen skilled in both trades would be building a major shipyard and port for intercontinental vessels rivaling Valentia. Or again, that was the plan. At present, Valentia was unquestionably the best port in the country. It was their biggest trading port, a site for fishing, and also a naval port that was home to the majority of the country’s seafaring military. Capua had a great number of small fishing ports, and a reasonable number of trading ports where small vessels could dock, but only Valentia could properly function as a naval base.

It was far from an ideal situation, particularly in the current climate where large-scale naval warfare seemed an inevitability. It was potentially fatal. Valentia was the only port where the larger intercontinental vessels could dock, so if the Northern Continent’s assault toppled it, Capua would be in a distinctly troubling position.

There was a saying about putting all of one’s eggs in a single basket, and it applied perfectly to putting all military assets in one location. A single port capable of repairing larger ships meant that losing it would also mean losing that ability. A single dock suitable for building such ships would put a complete halt to such production if it were captured. A single harbor for large ships led to a single point of retreat in the event of a naval defeat, and in turn a fixed route would make for an easy ambush. It was dangerous in every way possible.

There was therefore good reason to establish a second suitable location in Alcott. Aura was naturally aware of that, but unfortunately there was the greatest possible impediment to such endeavors: budgetary constraints. As a result, Alcott currently stood as a practically vacant lot slowly being cleared and excavated by a small number of people.

“As Duchess Alcott, I bid you welcome to my domain, Sir Zenjirou,” Freya said with a grin, standing in front of him as he stepped down from the carriage.

The two of them had traveled from Valentia together, but the princess was not in the carriage with him because she had taken the opportunity to ride on a dash drake instead partway through the journey.

The lessons in the inner palace’s gardens were ostensibly for Zenjirou, but—perhaps unsurprisingly—Freya had picked up the skill much more quickly. Frankly, it was a rather predictable outcome for all involved. While it might have been a new experience in terms of the specific mount, both she and Skaji were skilled in horse riding and were therefore on another level from Zenjirou, who only had a standard driving license.

“Thank you, Freya. I take it you preferred the journey on drakeback?” he asked, taking her hand without thinking about it.

Freya responded to her husband’s question with a smile. “I did. The carriage is an easier journey, but drakeback is more pleasant.”

Her grin was earnest and underscored her words completely. While Zenjirou didn’t really understand it intuitively, a female royal or noble—particularly a married woman—eschewing a carriage to don pants and ride personally was practically unprecedented. A closer look would reveal a well-used hand axe hanging at her waist.

Freya was well and truly satisfied with her life, which allowed her the liberty to simply ride on drakeback at her own discretion rather than needing to get special permission.

“You certainly seem to have enjoyed it more. I will have to keep at it.”

As he spoke, Zenjirou stretched to work out the stiffness caused by the carriage journey. He was currently at the stage where he could move around fairly freely on the two dash drakes in the gardens, but those specific drakes had been chosen specifically for their placid natures. He would only be able to proudly proclaim confidence like Freya and Skaji once he could do the same for the average dash drake that was used by royalty.

The two of them moved off arm in arm, followed by Skaji, Natalio, and the knights underneath him for their protection. Originally, Zenjirou’s protection had been handled by personnel loaned to him by Aura, but now they were all his direct subordinates.

Contrary to Zenjirou’s wishes for it to be as small-scale as possible, the Knights of Bilbo were currently growing in number. That was at Aura’s word. Blatantly trying to increase their forces would be difficult so soon after the war. Considering the potential issues in the North, though, improving their military force was a requirement. Increasing the number of knights belonging to the newly established order for Zenjirou was the easiest way, as they could be trusted to be at hand and trustworthy for Aura.

The only people less welcoming of the increase in numbers were Zenjirou and Natalio, the leader of the order, so it was difficult to refute. Zenjirou was considering just how large their numbers had grown without his realizing it as he looked over the area.

“So this is Alcott...” he murmured, considering continuing the sentence but stopping short of doing so.

There were several small huts and that was all. It would be difficult to call it a village, let alone a town. He doubted anyone would honestly call it “the Port of Alcott.”

Freya must have noticed his conflicted expression. The duchess offered an exaggerated sigh. “Indeed, it is as you say, simply ‘Alcott.’ Though I will make sure it is one day known as the International Port of Alcott,” she stated.

The agreement was already in place for Capua’s resources and Uppasala’s skill to make Alcott into a port capable of serving intercontinental ships. There were limits to both monetary and human resources, though. Valentia’s improvements were currently the priority, and building the new port was—as was evident from the sight of the area—on hold.

“Ah, yeah, Alcott will be a major strategic location in the future,” Zenjirou answered vaguely, his gaze shifting.

Just as Freya was the duchess of Alcott, Aura was the duchess of Valentia. Zenjirou was perhaps the most dangerous person to voice any opinion on which construction should be prioritized. Whichever side he came down on, he would doubtless fall prey to the birds of the royal palace seeking gossip, or the nobles looking for seeds of intrigue.

Because of that, he kept his feelings away from both his face and voice as he moved the conversation onto more administrative matters. “Well, it was originally uninhabited, so I suppose it needs to be made into a suitable workplace for the craftsmen.”

“True enough,” Freya agreed with a sigh.

While it may have seemed mundane, simply leveling the ground was by no means a waste for developing the region. The ideal next step would be to rush-build a pier so boats could come and go. Even if it was a simple construction, it would allow people and materials to be brought in by sea and improve efficiency by no small amount.

However, even a slight amount of consideration led one to the conclusion that building a pier in a natural bay was not something that just anyone would be capable of. It required dependable, knowledgeable craftsmen to make it a reality. It was easy to imagine how much such simple and harsh conditions would increase labor costs. Forcing skilled laborers to work with very little in the way of facilities would not be cheap.

Conversely, preparing the land and laying foundations was possible with people who had a modicum of strength and health, outside of a small number of supervisors. Such people could be hired in droves for relatively little money. Turning the coast into a port was so tightly intertwined with the budget they had available.

“If we could hire people capable of casting earth manipulation, things would be a lot more efficient,” Zenjirou pointed out.

“If we had the budget for that, we could have started with the pier to begin with,” Freya replied with a pout. It went without saying that people capable of using the spell on a decent area would cost even more than the specialists to build the pier.

“True enough,” was the only response he could give her.

“While the budget may be under Her Majesty’s control, the plan is mine alone. If I could secure funds of my own, the situation would change,” she said, almost to herself.

Freya had nearly unprecedented levels of freedom for a woman in this world. Those freedoms also included a certain level of economic activity. The duchess had the right to the money from the royal family—not only to spend it, but to invest the funds and use them as she wished.

“A seed to grow your business,” Zenjirou mused, hearing her words.

While not to the same extent as him—since she was at least from this world—Freya was from distant lands and was also the product of a significantly different culture. There were likely things she knew or had experienced that were completely unknown on the Southern Continent—or even if known, not the norm. There might be some piece of knowledge within those experiences that could be used to gain her funds.

“Uppasala is advanced even on the Northern Continent, so if we can cultivate that technology here, it could fund the project,” he said to her.

Freya looked up at the sky in thought. “Technology that could earn funds? We have brought people fairly skilled in those things, but the majority were snapped up by the Capuan royal family,” she replied.

That was an obvious action for Aura to take. While Freya had married Zenjirou and become part of the royal family, she was unlikely to dedicate her loyalty solely to her new home. Granting her the title of duchess and the uninhabited coastal land to go along with it, and then allowing the engineers with more advanced techniques to report directly to her on top of it would essentially be allowing the formation of a sovereign state within the country’s borders.

Aura’s plans would be to take the foreign elements from Freya’s people and slowly absorb and digest them, turning them into nourishment for Capua. They could not be allowed to remain alien to the country forever.

Freya understood the logic, but she was not so selfless that she’d just follow the plan without question. There was a decent pause before she spoke up. “Would it be possible to personally hire Uppasalans as part of the Capuan royal family?” she asked.

Zenjirou considered what he knew of the country’s laws as he answered. “Hmm, there shouldn’t be a problem with that. It would need one of us to transport them through teleportation, though, so the decision would depend on Aura’s feelings.”

Freya faltered briefly at the end of his answer, but she soon rallied. “Perfect. I won’t lose this time.”

Seeing her decisiveness, Zenjirou wondered if there was some way he could help. Freya’s work finishing would, in itself, not be a detriment to either the country or royal family as a whole. The Northern Continent was more advanced than the South outside of magic. That was an irrefutable fact. While shipbuilding and smithing were the first things to come to mind, Capua was already directly importing such skills that directly impacted military matters.

In turn, the areas that Freya could personally import skill in would be different from that. To put it bluntly, they would be things that Aura could overlook.

He considered what he had seen on the Northern Continent that had made the biggest impact on him. The ships, metalworking, glass, candles, lace, clothing, and accessories... As his thoughts reached that point, he cast his eyes to the clothes Freya was wearing. They were horse riding clothes from the Northern Continent, consisting of a white shirt under a brown vest. The white was particularly noticeable in the sunlight.

“I just had a thought. They had a big lace industry in the commonwealth. Does Uppasala have the same?” he asked.

Freya tilted her head in slight concern, not quite understanding where he was going with his questioning. “Lace? We do make some, but not as much as the commonwealth. Besides, while it is a luxury good, getting enough with a minimal number of workers would be difficult, so it would have little return.”

Zenjirou shook his head. “We do something similar to making the actual cloth in Capua. The important thing isn’t the final product, but the thread used to make it.”

“The...thread?” she asked, blinking her blue eyes at him in confusion.

“Yeah, the thread. The Northern Continent’s thread is far whiter than what you find here. So if you can let those skills spread, they might be useful.”

Freya still wasn’t entirely on board. “Pardon me, but I don’t see that much of a difference.”

It had been several years since she had first come to Capua. She’d had the opportunity to see a lot of Capua’s clothing, and she didn’t have a particular impression of white cloth there being “less white” than she was used to.

“Are you sure that’s not because you’re comparing the thread and fabric you see in both of the palaces? The fabric you see in the palace, particularly whatever the royal family uses, would be the cream of the crop, chosen for being as white as possible. The fabric for more general use, though, is far whiter on the Northern Continent. Part of it might be due to a difference in materials, but if there’s a difference in the cleaning and bleaching, it might be useful.”

“I see...” Freya mused, considering it seriously. “That seems worth looking into. If you’re right, then this is an excellent chance.”

“Yeah. You’d still need to get Aura’s permission in the end, though.”

Despite her initial flinch at his final statement, she immediately clenched her fist and spoke up. “Urk. I-I won’t lose!”