Shinwa Densetsu no Eiyuu no Isekaitan - Volume 3 - Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Northward Bound

The thirtieth day of the ninth month of Imperial Year 1023

Five days had passed since leaving the capital. Hiro, the other special envoys, and their hundred guards were well on their way to the northern border.

The north was the territory of House Scharm, the great house that represented the northern nobles. Past Riesenriller, their so-called Whitesteel Castle, bitter air temperatures assailed the land with a brutal cold, but the more southerly regions were comparatively temperate and, as a result, settled. Those regions, with their swathe of fertile black soil, formed the backbone of House Scharm’s wealth.

The convoy stopped at the checkpoint known as the Northern Gateway for an inspection before being allowed to continue on their way.

“My apologies for the trouble, Your Highness. I fear no one is exempt from the checks, not even royalty.”

“It’s all right. You wouldn’t be doing a good job if you made exceptions for status.”

Hiro glanced to his side, where the checkpoint overseer sat on horseback next to the carriage. The middle-aged man wore furs over his armor to gird against the cold, but they hadn’t saved his beard from turning prematurely white.

“I’m glad you understand,” he said. Puffing out white clouds, he swung down from his horse and approached the portal. “Raise the gate!” he cried. As his voice faded, a great grinding shook the earth, and the enormous door began to lift.

“There’s naught but snow on the other side, but I bid you fair travels nonetheless.”

Seeing the genteel old man off with a wave, Hiro and his company passed through the gate and took their first steps into the north proper.

“It’s gorgeous!” came an admiring whisper from Huginn.

“It’s bloody cold, is what it is,” a reply came from somewhere beneath the quivering pile of four furs that was Muninn.

Huginn shot her brother a sharp glance. She leaped nimbly down from the carriage, picked up a pile of snow, and returned. “Eat this and shut up, brother dear.”

“Sister dearest, I think I would die— Mmph?!”

Muninn fell to the ground and rolled around in pain, his throat packed with a fistful of snow.

With only a cold stare to spare for her sibling’s suffering, Huginn bounded back to Hiro. “I’ve never seen snow before, Your Lordship,” she exclaimed. “I didn’t know anything could be so cold!”

She watched in awe as the handful of white flakes melted in her fingers. Hiro’s attention was more on Muninn, who had turned deathly pale.

“Are you sure your brother’s all right?” he asked. “He looks like he’s dying.”

“I’ve never seen snow before, Your Lordship,” she exclaimed. “I didn’t know anything could be so cold!”

She repeated herself so perfectly that at first Hiro doubted his ears. He sensed it would be best to drop the subject of Muninn.

“Is this the first time you’ve left Lichtein?” he asked, deciding to humor her.

“I traveled about a little as a sellsword, but only to Steissen and Draal. Never any farther north.”

“Really? Then this must all be new to you.” Most people would probably have reacted like Muninn, but it seemed that Huginn’s surprisingly girlish love for pretty things had made her forget about the cold.

Hiro and Muninn traded small talk for a while as the convoy made its way along the snow-covered road. After a time, however, it came to a stop. Their way was blocked—and not just by one person, or even two.

“Is this trouble, Your Lordship?” Huginn reached for her weapon, bristling with wariness.

“What do we do, chief?” Muninn’s eyes turned steely as he laid a cautious hand on the sword at his belt. Before their caravan, an army stretched as far as the eye could see, keeping silent vigil over the road.

“That’s the second prince’s flag, if I’m not mistaken.” Hiro narrowed his eyes but gestured for the siblings to sheathe their weapons. He shot Drix a meaningful glance.

The man’s unease was palpable. “A silver wolf on a white field—unmistakably the livery of the second prince. I see the flags of other powerful nobles as well. Why they are here is anyone’s guess, but we would be well advised not to do anything rash.”

The force’s numbers were too large for a welcome, but it was hard to believe that they were planning anything more hostile. Hiro had expected the second prince to make contact sooner or later, but not to pull a move on this scale.

“Well, we’re not going to learn anything back here,” Hiro said. “We need to get closer.”

“Is that wise, Your Lordship? If they mean you harm...” The unease was plain in Huginn’s voice.

Hiro smiled, hoping to reassure her. “If they meant me harm, they’d have done it already.”

The second prince evidently hadn’t come to spill blood, so they had nothing to fear from approaching, and there was nothing to be gained from a silent standoff. The only way of finding out what was going on was to ask.

“It looks like he’s had the same idea, though,” Hiro observed.

A unit of twenty or so riders had detached from the army to come toward them. The figure in the lead was androgynous but striking in appearance, with heterochromous eyes—the left blue, the right gold—that lent him an air of mystique. His sky-blue hair fell soft as silk over slender shoulders. Silver armor glinted from beneath his covering of brown furs.

The man dismounted with a practiced ease and strode toward Hiro’s company. It was difficult not to notice his kingly bearing or the hands that he laid on the twin blades at his hips. He exhaled white breath and smiled.

“I am Lupus Scharm Selene von Grantz, second prince of the empire,” he announced, “and I have come to greet my new brother.”

Selene’s eyes looked the party over before coming to rest on Hiro. His brow furrowed in recognition.

“Black hair and black eyes—the mark of the twinblack. I must say, I doubted whether it truly existed, yet here you are in the flesh.”

Hiro disembarked and approached Selene with an outstretched hand. “Hiro Schwartz von Grantz. It’s a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance.”

The second prince nodded in approval as he accepted the handshake. “You have manners. That’s good. I’m pleased to have such a polite little brother.” He paused. “Did you know your exploits ring loud enough to reach me here in the north?”

Hiro’s lips curled with just a touch of wryness. “I don’t know what you’ve heard, but those kinds of stories tend to get more exaggerated every time they’re told.”

“You don’t have to be so modest, you know. I’ve seen the strategies you used against Lichtein.”

“I was just lucky, that’s all. Even I’m astonished that things worked out as well as they did.”

“Of course you were. Who could have predicted the convenient demise of General von Kilo?” Selene’s tone was breezy, but his eyes flashed dangerously as he wrapped an arm around Hiro’s shoulders. “But this is no conversation to have out here in the cold. Perhaps we could continue at greater lengths in your carriage?”

“I’d love to, but I have urgent business in Lebering. Might we save it for another time?”

“Never fear. I am quite aware of your current position as special envoy. I realize that your schedule is strict. No, I am not here to waylay you, but to accompany you.”

“We’ll move slowly with an army of this size in tow.” Hiro gestured to the troops stretching across the snowfields. Even at a rough count, they easily numbered more than thirty thousand.

“That will not be a concern. I will take only twenty men.”

“I can’t promise you much in the way of hospitality. It’ll be a cold journey, and we won’t exactly be eating like nobles.”

“I am used to the cold, I assure you. More so than you, I suspect. And I would be a poor commander if I turned up my nose at army rations.”

Selene half-marched Hiro back to the carriage, where they both got in. He offered brief greetings to Huginn and Muninn, but his face lit up with delight when he saw the carriage’s final occupant.

“Why, Drix! It has been far too long. Is your lord father keeping well?”

The siblings turned to Drix in astonishment. Hiro was not surprised—he had surmised that Drix was from the north—but he kept silent on that point.

Drix lowered his eyes awkwardly, but he nonetheless offered Selene a polite bow. “Lord Graeci is in good health, but he misses your company dreadfully. Perhaps you might visit him in the capital sometime.”

“Visit that stuffy old place? What good could that ever do me?” With a dismissive wave, the prince took a seat next to Hiro. “Stovell is there, for one, and the central nobles are disagreeable to a man. Far better to roam the snowfields wild and free than tangle myself up in all their politics, wouldn’t you say?” The man turned to Hiro with a cheeky eyebrow raised, seeking agreement.

“You’re still fifth in line to the throne,” Hiro said. “Like it or not, you’re part of politics. Ignore it and it’ll only come back to bite you.”

Indeed, the second prince was fifth in line to the throne, not second—a position that reflected his indifference to the central territories and refusal to leave the north. He seemed to have no interest in being bound by imperial succession, and he demonstrated as much by living life as he pleased.

“You speak like a man who aspires to become emperor,” Selene remarked.

“I...” Hiro’s answer caught in his throat.

Seeing as much, Selene continued. “The Grantzian Empire has achieved all it can. It may stand on shaky foundations, but it has persisted for a thousand long years. Over the centuries, it has tasted prosperity, lethargy, decline, and stagnation...and now, it has little left to accomplish.” He raised two fingers and waggled them. “Now the starving lion roams the land in search of prey, with two choices before it: it can devour the world to fill its belly, or it can succumb to hunger and die. And I suspect it will do the latter.”

A bold declaration. The carriage fell silent as the implications of the prince’s words sank in. Selene looked around, seemingly pleased by their astonishment.

“The owner of this decrepit lion may still hold great power,” he continued in more impassioned tones, “but that power would hinge on the support of the masses. They would rule beholden to their nobles. Spend their lives kowtowing to lesser men. I have no interest in such a pathetic kind of kingship.”

“You should be careful who you say that to,” Hiro warned him.

Selene’s words would win him the enmity of most of the central nobles, but the man didn’t seem to care. His grin seemed almost cheerful.

“And what should I care if the central nobles know what I think?” He spoke not with arrogance, but with absolute confidence. “Let them challenge me. I will meet them with two hundred thousand men—the Fifth Legion and all the forces of the north.”

The prince’s words quietly reinforced that he held the northern territories in his grasp. That was true strength. He didn’t need to bluff or bluster in order to intimidate, only state the truth. The palpable power emanating from him took everyone’s breath away but Hiro’s.

“But perhaps I have spoken a little forcefully. Forgive me. I meant only to assure you that I have no interest in the throne.” Selene patted Hiro on the back before turning to gaze out of the window. “We ought to make camp. The north only gets colder once the sun goes down...and all sorts of monsters come out at night.”

His eyes returned to Hiro and narrowed sharply, like those of a stalking wolf catching sight of its prey.

＊

Making camp took longer than expected. Some of that time was taken up by erecting bonfires and palisades to ward off monsters, but the lion’s share of the delay stemmed from the cold, which numbed the hands and impeded work. By the time all was done, the sun had set, and there was only time for a brief dinner before guard duty began.

As the soldiers assigned to patrol donned their winterwear, rubbing their hands together to ward off the chill, Hiro lay down on the snow and gazed at the stars. Huginn and Muninn had spent most of the evening by his side, insisting that they were his bodyguards, but had eventually retreated to the warmth of the tent.

“Lord Hiro, you must return inside. You will catch your death out here.” Occasionally, a concerned soldier would ask him to go back to his tent. This was the fifth.

“In a moment,” he replied. “I want to watch the stars for a while.” With the Black Camellia around his shoulders and the blessing of Excalibur to warm him, the cold could not touch him. Warmth enfolded him like a sunlit spring day.

“If you’re certain, sir. But you ought to be quick.” The soldier returned to his watch, glancing dubiously over his shoulder as he went.

Hiro had just leaned back once more when a sudden voice called out to him.

“A stargazer, are we?”

He sat up and turned to see Selene.

“Do pardon me for interrupting. I’m sure you value your solitude, but I’d hoped for a chance to speak in confidence.” The prince took a seat beside him. “So? Do you enjoy watching the stars?”

“I do. I have for a long time.”

“I’ve never liked them much, myself. They’re pretty to look at, no doubt about that, but they twinkle only for a brief while. I can never bring myself to love them. They feel too ephemeral for that.” Selene stretched a hand toward the sky. Suddenly, he seemed very far away. “As do you. You seem like a man balancing on the edge of a knife.”

“What makes you think that? You don’t know anything about me.”

“Oh, but I do. The north is awash with whispers of you. About how you punished the units who burned villages in Lichtein. About how you levy justice against any who mistreat their prisoners, even nobility. The strictness of your command has become quite legendary among my nobles.” Selene lowered his eyes sadly. “And yet, that seems like no easy road. To dedicate yourself to your people, your country, your loved ones... It all sounds terribly noble, but a life lived for others has little room left for oneself.”

“That’s the burden of royalty, if you ask me. Or anyone who rules.”

“You see? That’s what I mean. Everything’s so clear-cut to you. No room anywhere for contradiction or compromise.” The prince stood, stretched, and heaved a sigh. “I can only hope you don’t make the same mistakes as Mars. He was an idealist, just like you, but they say that very purity of heart was what broke him in the end.”

That was a chapter of the legend lost to history. A black stain on the tale of Mars that should have been expunged one thousand years ago.

“I can’t say I know the details, but they say that something happened that changed him. His strategies turned cruel and he became ruthless in his conquests.” Selene’s voice took on a sorrowful timbre as he gazed at the night sky. “And they came to call him the Lord of Carnage. The name changed over time, of course, and now other lands lie awake at night in fear of the Desperation.”

Hiro opened his mouth to ask how the prince knew all that, but he thought better of it. He’s just as abnormal as I am, he thought, and someday, he might end up standing in my way. In which case, better not to show weakness.

“Or perhaps it’s all fiction,” Selene concluded. “Who’s to say? In any case, consider this fair warning. And now, I ought to retire.”

Until Selene vanished into the darkness, Hiro’s gaze never moved from the twin blades on his hips. “If losing means sacrificing something I hold dear...” he whispered under his breath, “then I’d prefer to never know defeat.”

With that, he stood and set out for his tent. Warm air greeted him as he stepped inside. His black eyes picked out two human shapes in the half-light—Huginn and Muninn, both sprawled out near the tent flap. He smiled fondly to see them fast asleep before slipping beneath his own blanket.

Soon, he too was snoring. As he fell into a deep slumber, something stirred at his breast. The card tucked away in his pocket—the one given to him by Artheus—began to spew a misty darkness. Unseen and unknown, the air filled with black fog. It coiled around the sleeping Hiro’s limbs, then surged suddenly outward...

And swallowed up the world.

＊

Pitiless rain drenched the clifftop. The droplets scattered as they struck the stone, bursting into spray that seeped into the soil. Black clouds shrouded the hollow sky, blotting out the light of the moon.

“This can’t be real! Why?! Why did it have to be you?!”

A young boy’s rain-soaked sorrow rang through the empty night. A woman lay limp in his arms. Her lovely golden hair was smeared with mud and robbed of its luster, and her face was the ashen gray of a corpse. A rivulet of blood trickled from her purple lips.

The boy wrenched out the spear that had impaled her and unleashed a scream at the sky.

“Why is this happening?! Tell me!”

The black clouds had no answer to give, only the rumble of thunder and the burgeoning hiss of the deluge.

“What did she do to deserve this?! What did she ever do wrong?!”

He drew her body close and wailed into her cold chest. Belated apologies slipped from his lips, bitter tears falling at his failure to save her.

“My king, I beg you. This is no time to weep. She of all people would not see you falter now!”

The voice issued from behind him, from one of the five generals kneeling at his back. Its source shuddered—not because of the cold, nor the rain, but because of the murderous glare from the boy-king that abruptly speared his body.

“My king, stay your anger, I beg you. You must not allow this to cloud your judgment.”

“I know, Lox. I know. But I’m perfectly calm. Even I’m surprised by how calm I am.”

The woman’s body had unaccountably vanished from the boy’s arms. Only a black blade now lay in his grasp. The sight struck the five generals dumb with astonishment, but the boy’s voice soon recalled them from their stupor.

“They call this a peaceful resolution? Hah. We come to negotiate in good faith, and this is how they repay us.”

Lox froze where he knelt. The boy had risen to his feet—and he was smiling. Even as tears trickled from his eyes, a faint grin played across his lips. A more ghastly sight, the general had never seen.

“Let them learn whose anger they have roused. Let every last one of them know the enemy they have made.”

“You cannot mean...? My king, you mustn’t!”

“I know what you want to say, Lox, only too well. But this is beyond debate.”

“Have mercy on them, I beg you! I beg you, Lord Schwartz!”

Lox’s pleas rang uselessly in the boy’s ears as he walked away. He stopped only when he reached the edge of the cliff. Below, one hundred thousand men awaited his orders.

“Mars! Mars! Mars! Mars! Mars! Mars!”

They cheered his name when they saw him, the clatter of metal filling the air as they pounded their swords against their shields. Once, the sight would have filled him with zeal. Now, he felt only emptiness.

“Mars! Mars! Mars! Mars! Mars! Mars!”

The light left his eyes as a bottomless sorrow came over him. Never again would his heart run over. Now it would wither until it was an empty husk.

“The path of kingship is closed to me now. Only the path of conquest is left.”

The boy raised his black blade high, then swept it down, leveling it at the horizon as he issued his royal decree.

“My loyal Crow Legion, I command you—slake my thirst with the blood of my enemies!”

His smile twisted cruelly as the tip of his sword skewered the enemy capital.

“Kill them all!”

＊

Hiro slept poorly following his conversation with Selene. Dreams of bloodshed plagued him, events of which he had no memory but that were all the more terrifying for it.

He opened his heavy eyelids to the familiar view outside the window. The land was covered in white, carpeted in snow. He squinted against the glare as the snowfields caught the sunlight, intensifying it in their reflection.

It was the ninth day of the tenth month of Imperial Year 1023. True to schedule, Hiro and his company had crossed the border into the kingdom of Lebering. They were currently stopped a short distance away, close to a checkpoint.

“This is where I must say farewell,” Selene said. “Our time together was brief, but I enjoyed it all the same.”

“As did I,” Hiro replied. “It’s been a pleasure.”

“I will be watching with great anticipation to see what path you take.”

The second prince’s words struck him as oddly portentous, but he bit his tongue.

“Allow me to give you this, in the hope that it will bring you luck.”

On the point of stepping out of the carriage, Selene produced a crimson blossom.

“An anat, it’s called. A singular flower that blooms only in the north.” Seemingly oblivious to Hiro’s surprise, he mounted his horse and turned it about. “May we meet again, Lord Hiro. I hope to someday welcome you to the gleaming walls of Riesenriller.”

With that, he vanished as gallantly as he had first arrived. Hiro looked away from the man’s receding figure and down at the anat in his hand with a sigh.

“Blooms only in the north, huh?”

“Are you quite all right, Your Lordship?” Huginn’s voice was filled with worry. “You’re looking a little peaky.”

Hiro shook his head. “Sorry. It’s nothing. Let’s go.” He stowed the crimson flower in his pocket and issued a command to the coachman. Soon, they were once again in motion.

When at last they reached the Lebering checkpoint, they found an unexpected sight awaiting them.

“Special envoys of the Grantzian Empire, allow me to welcome you to Lebering. You have journeyed long and far from the imperial capital. Please allow me and my men to escort you the rest of the way.”

The man was visibly taller and broader than a human, and his armor-clad form marked him as a seasoned warrior. His pale skin made it clear that his zlosta blood ran thin, but the raw mana that radiated from him seemed bottomless.

“I am Haniel van Wenzel of the Three Asuras,” he announced. “Holder of the seat of Schützer, the Asura of Protection.”

The Three Asuras were Lebering’s defenders, reputedly the strongest warriors in the land. Their extraordinary strength was known as far south as the Duchy of Lichtein.

Haniel knelt before Hiro and drew his sword. He raised it above his head, left hand gripping the hilt, right hand laid flat against the blade. “It is an honor to meet the scion of the same War God this land’s great founder once served.”

“And I’m no less honored to meet one of the famed Three Asuras.” Hiro gestured for Haniel to be at ease.

The man slipped his sword back into its sheath and rose to his feet. Hiro gave him a good-natured smile before glancing down at the blade on his belt.

“Am I right in thinking that must be your Relic?”

Each of the Three Asuras was entrusted with a Relic, a weapon of great historical importance that they were charged to employ in the defense of Lebering.

“Indeed it is. The fiendblade Hauteclaire.” Haniel patted the sword’s hilt proudly. Embedded in its pommel was a weighty amethyst—a manastone.

Immediately, Hiro could tell that this was the source of the mana that so infused Haniel.

“What an unusual design,” he observed. The sword bore three depressions: one on either side of the cross guard and a larger one in the center.

“Hauteclaire is the oldest of the Relics,” Haniel explained. “Its construction retains elements that have since fallen into disuse.”

“Interesting.” Hiro’s eyes narrowed, but he said no more. Apparently, Haniel had never seen Hauteclaire in its full glory. Hiro, however, remembered the sight well. He would not soon forget the cherished blade of his erstwhile comrade, Lox.

But that’s not for me to reveal. If this is how things are in today’s world, it’s not my place to change it.

If knowledge of Hauteclaire’s true form had not survived the centuries, revealing it would only invite needless strife. Hiro had no intention of plunging the land his old friend had built into chaos.

The conversation had fallen silent, so Haniel filled in the lull. “His Majesty looks forward to receiving you, Your Highness. I apologize for hurrying you, but we ought to be away. Shall we?”

“Of course. We’re ready to depart at any time.”

Hiro glanced at Drix, who nodded. One by one, the officials’ carriages trundled through the checkpoint. He returned to his own carriage, where Huginn and Muninn awaited, and ordered the coachman to set out once more.

“The weather is kind to us today,” Haniel said through the window. “I should expect to arrive at the royal city by dusk at the latest.”

“Thank you for seeing us there.”

“You will travel safe in my keeping, my lord; that I swear. For now, I must excuse myself.”

As Haniel departed, Drix turned to Hiro. “A personal escort from one of the Asuras. Lebering offers us a royal welcome.”

“As they should!” Huginn interrupted. “Mars’s heir deserves a little respect!” The ex-sellsword seemed to raise her hackles against everybody but Hiro, and she wasn’t good at hiding it. With her natural talent on top of that, many wouldn’t hesitate to call her impertinent.

At any rate, that thought certainly seemed to pass through Drix’s mind as he glared at her with displeasure. “Might I suggest that you speak in a manner more befitting of a lady—”

“You can cram it, is what you can do! I answer to no one but His Lordship and the boss!”

“My dear, may I remind you that you are speaking to a superior officer?”

“You ain’t my superior anything! I’m in His Lordship’s employ, remember?”

Drix fell silent, grinding his teeth. Beside him, Muninn bowed his head in silent embarrassment.

Hiro decided to move the conversation along before things got awkward. “Well,” he said, “they don’t necessarily believe me as much as it looks like.”

“What do you mean?” Huginn cocked her head in bemusement.

Hiro lowered his voice. “The Asuras aren’t the kind of figures you’d usually find escorting officials. They have enormous support among the people, as well as the confidence of the king. They’re on the same level as heads of state. If Lebering had only expected a caravan of officials, they would have sent somebody with a more suitable rank to welcome us.”

Drix picked up Hiro’s point. “But if Mars’s heir—and a prince of the empire, no less—really was visiting, it would only be proper to send a head of state to receive him. Any less would risk causing offense.”

“Exactly.”

Treating a member of the Grantzian royal family with disrespect would not only inflame the citizens of the empire, it would risk inviting reprisal from other nations as well. Lebering was currently looking forward to its princess’s coming-of-age ceremony. Putting a damper on the celebrations would be the last thing it would want.

“It looks like we can expect a warm welcome. Now we just have to hope all this concludes without any unpleasant surprises.”

Hiro turned to look out of the window. The snowscape outside passed by in slow silence, but it did nothing to calm the growing murmur of disquiet in his chest.

＊

Another half hour passed in silence but for the rumbling of the wheels before the ominous clouds at last gave in. Snow began to fall. The wind picked up to beat at the window, and the temperature within the carriage dropped rapidly. All but Hiro searched about for their furs as the cold became unbearable.

It was then that they noticed a disturbance. A sudden commotion had arisen outside. Strangely, the imperial soldiers seemed unconcerned. Whatever was happening, it was occurring among the Lebering forces.

“Please do not trouble yourselves, honored guests!” came Haniel’s command. “Naught is amiss!”

It was only human for that kind of reassurance to make someone more curious. Leaving the other three behind, Hiro ventured outside and set out for the head of the column, where the noise was loudest. The Lebering soldiers looked taken aback by seeing him pass, but as a special envoy—and the fourth prince besides—they seemed to judge it improper to do any more than stare.

It’s been a long time since I’ve walked on fallen snow.

The white carpet crunched pleasantly underfoot. Light of step, exhaling white fog, Hiro reached the front of the column.

The sight that greeted him struck him dumb.

Gruesome red soaked the snowfields. A young girl stood absently by the roadside, holding a bloodstained sword. Around her, five corpses lay carved to pieces. They had been bandits, judging by the sorry pieces of armor strapped to their muscular bodies, although nothing else remained to explain their demise—nothing but the clear truth that their end had come by the girl’s hand.

“Lady Claudia! What are you doing here?! And alone, no less!”

As soon as a flustered Haniel saw that the girl was unharmed, he wasted no time in scolding her, but she seemed nonplussed. She giggled into the back of her hand.

“Because I snuck out of the castle, of course. And then these brigands accosted me.”

Her waist-length purple hair shimmered in the wind. She seemed too fair for the bloodbath around her; with gentle eyes, a shapely nose, and plump lips brushed with the faintest pink, her delicate features were as ephemeral as they were beautiful. Most remarkable of all, her skin was white as snow. At a glance, Hiro knew that this was the Vernesse, Lebering’s famed Princess of Amethyst.

“We really ought to review the security of our roads,” Claudia continued. “Imagine what might have happened if a merchant caravan had happened by— Oh?” She stopped as she noticed Hiro staring blankly and turned her violet eyes on him. “And who might you be?”

She tossed her bloodstained sword away and stepped closer. With an elegant smile, she dipped into a curtsy.

“You may call me Claudia van Lebering, first princess of the kingdom of Lebering.”

She raised her head, only to freeze as she caught her first proper glimpse of Hiro. Blind to the change in her demeanor, he extended his hand.

“Hiro Schwartz von Grantz, fourth prince of the Grantzian Empire.”

“Do excuse me,” Claudia said, regaining her bearings. “I was astonished by how closely you resemble the rumors. The twinblack is just as I had imagined.” She cleared her throat and took his hand in hers, her cheeks reddening bashfully as she looked at him with upturned eyes. “Forgive me for imposing, but...might you escort me back to the royal city?”

Hiro could hardly abandon a princess to return home on foot. He could only agree.

Claudia’s eyes positively sparkled as he nodded in assent. “How can I ever repay you? Please, you must tell me all about yourself along the way!”

All but glowing, she dashed away in the direction of Hiro’s carriage. Haniel turned to him.

“I must apologize, Your Highness. Princess Claudia can be...willful, shall we say.”

“I don’t mind. The more the merrier as far as travel is concerned.”

Haniel opened his mouth to reply, but at that moment, a rider pulled up behind him.

“My lord,” the man reported, “a messenger has arrived.”

“What?”

Haniel pulled the man aside. The pair whispered back and forth for a while. Eventually, Haniel turned back to Hiro, looking shaken.

“I had hoped to escort you to the royal city, Your Highness, but I fear a matter has arisen which requires my urgent attention. I leave Princess Claudia in your care. Now, I must ride!”

The Asura exchanged some final words with Claudia, then peeled off from the column with an escort of a dozen riders. Soon, they were galloping across the snowfields and out of sight.

Claudia bowed apologetically to Hiro as he returned to the carriage. “I’m terribly sorry about all of this. It seems that there is some disturbance in Haniel’s lands.”

Her face betrayed a deep concern. Hiro shook his head and offered her a reassuring smile.

“Don’t worry about it. More importantly, I’d hoped that you could tell me a bit about Lebering.”

“Why, I’d love to! There’s ever so much to like! Shall we begin with the royal city?”

Claudia’s lips blossomed into a wide smile as she launched into an enthusiastic lecture on Lebering’s capital.

Lebering’s royal city of Tiane was also the kingdom’s largest fortress. Designed—as its moniker of the Bastion of Violet Flakes implied—to safeguard its people from invaders, its defenses were impenetrable. Its innermost confines lay within two sets of battlements, themselves ringed by a great moat passable only by way of a retractable drawbridge. The buildings of the castle town, limned in white by a fresh dusting of snow, possessed a solemn beauty. If only the sun had been shining, its glittering charms would surely have captured any onlooker’s heart.

The king’s palace was Tiare, the Amethyst Hall, which overlooked the town from atop the central hill. Hiro and his company disembarked before its doors, whereupon Claudia led them to the throne room.

An extravagant chandelier hung from the ceiling of the chamber, bathing it in light. Hiro proceeded beneath it along the red carpet laid across the middle of the floor. Officials followed along behind, carrying gifts. The gazes of the Lebering nobles fell upon him from either side, but he strode ahead undaunted. His confidence must have impressed them, as more than a few admiring exhalations issued from the crowd.

After a short distance, he stopped and sank to one knee in a Grantzian bow. “I am honored to have received your invitation, Your Majesty.”

“And I am honored that you are here,” the king replied. “Svarov van Lebering greets you. My ancestor, Lox, would smile to see me welcome a scion of the War God to my halls.”

“As would mine. Would you accept these meager tokens of my gratitude?”

Hiro gestured to the officials, who laid their gifts out before the throne.

“You have my thanks. I trust that you will convey my appreciation to His Majesty, Emperor Greiheit.” The corners of the king’s eyes crinkled as he smiled. “If I may, Lord Hiro: are you wed?”

“I... Pardon?”

“Why, but this is some kind of serendipity. If you have no wife and no betrothed, perhaps you would consider a union with my house.”

As Hiro fell to thinking how best to politely refuse, a figure beside the throne stepped forward.

Oh?

His eyes and Hiro’s only met for a fraction of a second, but that was enough to sound alarms in Hiro’s head. Jealousy, hatred, murder—every dark passion of which the human heart was capable raked over him in that gaze. His own eyes narrowed in response...but then the young man turned to the king with an unctuous smile, and the moment passed.

“I think this subject might be better broached another time, Father. Lord Hiro is tired from his journey. It would not be fair to keep him from his bed.”

This could only be Flaus van Lebering, the king’s firstborn son and heir apparent. He would be thirty this year, well into adulthood for a human, but still looked to be in the prime of youth. His zlosta blood must have run thick.

“You are right, of course,” King Svarov said. He nodded firmly, as though settling the matter in his mind, and returned his attention to Hiro. “Very well, Lord Hiro, the rest of the day is yours to do with as you please. But I do hope to see you at my dear daughter’s banquet on the morrow.”

“I would be honored to attend.”

With a final bow of his head, Hiro turned away and retreated. He departed the throne room to the nobles’ applause.

With a servant’s guidance, Hiro made his way to a guest room in the depths of the Amethyst Hall. He took a seat at the writing desk and produced two pieces of paper from his pocket: a diagram of Lebering’s social structure and a report from imperial spies investigating the kingdom.

“It’s been a thousand years, Lox,” he said to himself, “but your nation might be on the brink of a revolution.”

King Svarov was weak. He was not a despotic ruler, but neither was he a particularly wise one. He was a thoroughly middling man in all respects, devoid even of enough authority to compel loyalty. One meeting had been enough to determine that he lacked a king’s gravitas.

“Not many people will follow a king like that. Even his own son doesn’t respect him.”

Flaus’s earlier glance played back in his mind’s eye. He had only ever felt a gaze like that on the battlefield—an ambitious brand of haughtiness peculiar to those who had grown up getting their own way.

“Leaving Svarov in charge of the nation would be too risky, and having Flaus succeed him would be downright dangerous. Which means the only option left is...”

A reserved knock on the door interrupted his scheming.

“Excuse me, Your Highness.” Drix entered, his expression taut and grave.

“I take it the news isn’t good,” Hiro said.

“Your assessment is correct. One might be forgiven for thinking that war had already broken out. The troop movements involved are far too sizable for the banquet’s attendants to account for.”

Drix had been busy making contact with the imperial agents in Lebering. He produced a report from his pocket and handed it to Hiro. “Soldiers are arriving from every region in the kingdom. Their numbers now exceed ten thousand, and we only expect them to grow.”

“They’re here to honor the princess with large-scale military exercises...or at least, that’s the pretext.” Hiro finished skimming the paper and leaned back in his chair. “Do you know who’s organizing all this?”

“Baal van Bittenia, one of the Three Asuras. He has held his post since the old king’s day. King Svarov trusts him implicitly and he commands enormous support among the people.”

So, soldiers were gathering in the capital, summoned by a loyal confidant. The king would likely not suspect a thing until it was too late.

“But what does this Baal want? It can’t be the crown. This started too recently for that.”

According to the report, Baal had only begun setting events in motion several weeks prior. If he wasn’t interested in proclaiming himself king, perhaps he was plotting an attack on the empire, but that would be foolhardy to say the least. The northern territories’ standing army was said to number one hundred thousand men. In peacetime, Lebering could muster thirty thousand at best, fifty if they resorted to conscription.

“Perhaps he could coordinate with the Faerzen Resistance, but mounting an invasion would still be reckless. None of the other nations would side with him.”

If any of the surrounding nations had ever had designs on the empire, Lichtein’s rapid surrender would have made them think twice. Besides, Liz was leading an effort to subdue Faerzen at that very moment. Once she joined forces with Aura, the resistance would quickly fold.

“Still, there’s no such thing as too cautious.” Hiro settled on a course of action and looked back up toward the door. “Huginn, Muninn, are you there?”

The siblings quickly entered. Their expressions were stiff. Clearly, they had noticed the tension in the room.

“Second Tribune Drix, keep working with our spies. Find out more about this Baal van Bittenia.”

Huginn and Muninn knelt as Hiro’s gaze swept toward them. They audibly swallowed.

“In the meantime, there’s something I need you two to do for me...”