Wortenia Senki (LN) - Volume 6 - Chapter 4

Chapter 4: To the Peninsula 

A dull sound, like that of a moist fruit being crushed underfoot, echoed through the dark forest. A rusty, sickeningly-sweet stench wafting up from the forest’s trees tickled Sara’s nostrils, prompting her to slightly contort her fair face. 

“How do you feel, Master Ryoma? Does anything feel off in some way?” Sara asked, handing over a towel to the dark shadow standing before her. 

“Everything seems fine, for now,” Ryoma replied. “But I gotta admit, martial thaumaturgy is really something. It’s like my body’s turned into some kind of wild animal’s.” 

“You’ve already learned the basics. All that remains is to gain experience in using it through real combat.” 

“Gain experience, huh... I can already kill beasts with my bare hands. I can’t even imagine what I’ll be able to pull off if I become skilled at this.” Ryoma said, his lips curling up in a satisfied smirk. 

His expression was not unlike the ghastly visage of a sneering demon. His face was covered in dark red splashes of blood. Both his arms were coated in red up to his elbows, and the red fluid was dripping from his fingers steadily down to the forest floor. 

Scattered all around them were the remains of dead wolves — fifty-four of them in total. They were large creatures, each of them standing over a meter tall and weighing sixty kilograms. Giants, as wolves went. These beasts no doubt stood as rulers of this forest, but they now lay dead at Ryoma’s feet. 

Such was the fate of those who lost in the struggle for survival. 

Blood was flowing endlessly from their carcasses and pooling over the forest floor. Their savage faces were crushed to bits. 

“Honestly, I didn’t think I’d kill them so easily bare-handed,” Ryoma said in an almost exasperated tone, gazing at the corpses at his feet. “It’s not just that my muscle strength increased, my senses are sharper too and my body feels so much lighter.” 

Besides the elation rising up from within his body, he couldn’t help but feel that the sight before his eyes was some kind of illusion conjured up by his mind. There was a stark difference in muscle strength between humans and animals. Humans could only safely hunt down beasts when armed with firearms or a blade. The gap between man and beast was simply that vast. 

But Ryoma slew such animals with his bare hands, and he was able to do so while handling many of them at once. And as Ryoma wiped his body clean with the towel, it became apparent he wasn’t injured in any way. This stood as proof that, once using martial thaumaturgy, Ryoma was stronger than a wild animal. 

His hand felt vividly warm from having pierced through the stomachs of the wolves, crushing their entrails in the process. His fingers could still feel the shredding sensation from when he tore apart the jaws of a wolf that tried to bite down on him. And these weren’t normal animals, either. They were fearsome creatures, categorized as monsters. 

Ryoma was filled with a feeling of definite achievement. He could do something he wasn’t capable of before. That sensation filled his body with elation. 

“That is not something anyone can achieve, of course,” Sara said. “Your body is well-built and trained as it is, Master Ryoma, and you have combat experience.” 

Ryoma’s body was well-tempered thanks to his grandfather, Kouichirou Mikoshiba’s training, and he’d braved dangers the likes of which he’d never be able to experience in his world. All of those aspects intertwined with him gaining the new power of martial thaumaturgy, and that synergy’s result was this newfound strength. 

“And you can see it yourself. The children have also gained martial thaumaturgy, but... Hmm... It seems they’re very much struggling...” Sara said, her gaze wandering into the dimly-lit depths of the forest. 

The way she trailed off carried an uncharacteristic tinge of criticism toward Ryoma. 

“Struggling, huh...? Does it bother you?” Ryoma furrowed his brows as he looked at Sara. 

He could tell she was displeased with his decisions, and Ryoma wasn’t foolish enough to believe his choices were inherently correct. But even if it was the wrong thing to do, Ryoma had no choice but to make that decision. Even if Sara were to judge him for it, there was no other path he could have chosen. He was in no position to save the weak right now. 

Faced with Ryoma’s unyielding gaze, Sara looked away. She understood the problem perfectly well, but her emotions weren’t so easily convinced. 

“I know why you brought the children here, Master Ryoma... And I... I understand why it was necessary, but...” Sara muttered hesitantly. 

This was something that didn’t seem to affect Laura as severely as it tormented her, but their past as slaves was a great source of trauma for Sara. The lustful, lecherous expression on the slave merchants’ faces. The anxiety of not knowing when they might be sold away. The despair of being treated the same as livestock. 

Every time she saw the children being trained, those memories flooded her heart. But when Ryoma ordered that the children be taught how to fight, Sara didn’t openly object to it. This wasn’t so much due to her debt of gratitude toward him, but simply because she realized that, as much as she might hate this, they didn’t have another choice. 

The rule of this Earth was survival of the fittest. Even one’s right to life had to be earned by one’s own strength, and being weak was very much a sin. Perhaps one could be allowed to remain weak so long as they didn’t mind being trampled on by the strong. To bear being pillaged, ravaged and killed. 

So long as one realized those things could befall themselves and those they wished to keep safe, they didn’t have to be strong. So long as one could accept having their safety and fortune threatened by bandit raids, having their spouses and daughters raped as part of the nobles’ oppression, having their children devoured by monsters... If one chose not to earn the means to fight while being aware of all this, perhaps they could be forgiven for staying weak. 

Most people in this world, and namely the commoners, chose this fate for themselves. Or rather, they had no choice but to make that choice. But if one wished to claim their human rights, to live with pride and be able to defend what they held dear, there was only one option. 

To grow strong. Power came in many forms. It could be through money, through violence, through wisdom or through authority. But might, and might alone, made right. And from the perspective of those that understood this truth, Ryoma’s actions came across as almost kind. 

The slave children were weak. But he made them literate, taught them how to fight and granted them the power of thaumaturgy. His actions gave weak people a thread of hope to cling to, and that held true even if Ryoma only did it to suit his own ends. His actions, in and of themselves, didn’t call for criticism. The children were lucky. They were weak, but were given a chance to become strong. 

And right now, those children were straddling the line between life and death as they were about to make that transition. By surviving in this monster infested forest, they would either die as weak people, or be reborn as strong ones... 

Sara once again looked into the dim forest, and prayed for the children’s safety. 

Ye gods, grant these children even a sliver of your power... 

Sara’s wish was to see as many of these children as possible survive this trial. 

“Melissa, what are you doing?! You’ll die if you keep your head in the clouds! Keep your sword up, it’s coming at you again!” 

Melissa couldn’t react to the boy’s shout in time. The sight of a large, dark beast and its furled fangs filled her field of vision. Standing before her was a black-furred tiger. A pair of large, curved fangs stuck out of its mouth as it rushed toward her with the intent of tearing her apart. This large beast, exceeding three meters in height, rushed toward Melissa like the wind. 

“Aaaaaaaaah!” A scream of terror escaped her lips. 

Her grip on her sword reflexively tightened, but the terror prevented her from doing anything else. The tiger’s gaze. The glint of its fangs. A body mass that far exceeded her own. All of those facts coiled around Melissa’s inexperienced heart like shackles. 

“You idiot...! Cran, pull Melissa back! Coile, help me block it!” 

Pushing Melissa, who was frozen in place, aside, one of the boys tried to ward off the tiger with a swing of his sword. His body gave off bloodlust, meant to intimidate the tiger. It did not come across as much of a threat to the tiger, of course, but it was enough to change the way he perceived the children. They weren’t just prey anymore. The tiger stopped advancing, instead electing to circle them, waiting for a moment where they would show a sign of weakness. 

“Melissa! Hurry, get back!” The boy called Cran wrapped his arms around Melissa’s body and pulled her back forcefully. 

“O-Ouch, wait, stop it!” Melissa raised her voice in pain as he grabbed her a bit too hard. 

The boy facing off against the tiger reflexively responded to her yelp, tensing up for a moment. Seeing this as its chance, the tiger lunged at the boy like an arrow launched from a strained bow. 

“Damn it!” 

The next moment, the boy thrust his sword into the tiger’s opened mouth. The boy was pushed down under the tiger’s weight, but the other boy, Coile, sank his blade into the tiger’s stomach. The moment the tiger lunged at them, the children thrust their blades forward. It was a reflexive act done to guard themselves, but the goddess of fate elected to spare their lives. 

The sword sank deep into the tiger’s open mouth. But with the creature bearing down on him weighing several hundreds of kilograms, he was knocked down to the ground and hidden from sight by the tiger’s body. 

“Kevin, are you all right?!” Coile called out to the boy lying under the tiger. 

Coile’s sword already killed the tiger, but he didn’t have the time to take pride in this achievement. Coile’s heart was full of concern for Kevin. 

“Cran, come on, help me move the tiger! Melissa, you keep watch, all right?! More monsters might show up. Don’t let anything creep up on us!” 

The fact the enemy before their eyes was defeated didn’t mean they were safe. This forest was infested by countless monsters, and the dead tiger’s blood could easily draw them out. 

“A-All right.” Melissa said with a nearly inaudible voice as she gave a frail nod. 

Coile and Cran turned their backs to Melissa and pressed their hands against the tiger’s body. 

“Ugh, it’s so heavy...! Cran! Put more force into it!” 

“I know!” 

The boys raised their voices at each other as they lifted up the tiger’s body. 

“Kevin! Kevin! Now! Crawl out of there!” Cran called out to Kevin the moment they were able to lift a gap between him and the carcass. 

They may have mastered martial thaumaturgy, but their ages ranged from twelve to fifteen. They weren’t fully physically matured yet. This, coupled with their harsh lives as slaves, meant their muscle strength was still relatively underdeveloped. They were only able to barely lift the tiger’s corpse thanks to the several months of training they’d received. 

“Damnit! Cran, it’s no good! I think Kevin fainted under there!” Coile shouted upon noticing Kevin wasn’t moving. 

“Melissa! Drag Kevin out, hurry!” 

“Huh?! W-Wait!” Melissa squeaked in surprise. 

“Hurry up already! We can’t keep it up for much longer!” 

The boys’ angry shouts jolted Melissa, making her freeze in fright. 

“What are you waiting for? Are you trying to get Kevin killed?! Hurry up and get him out of there!” The boys only grew more annoyed at Melissa freezing in place. 

Ever since that fateful day four months ago, they lived together as a squad, sharing the good and the bad. Their bonds were tight, and they weren’t trying to be maliciously cruel to Melissa. They were honestly worried for Kevin’s safety. 

“I-I’m fine...” A voice suddenly spoke out from the tiger. “I can get out... Can you just... lift it up a bit higher?” 

“Kevin!” Coile couldn’t help but shout at the sound of his friend’s voice. 

Kevin eventually managed to wiggle his way out from under the corpse. 

“Are you hurt?” Coile asked. 

“Yeah... My shoulder hurts a bit...” Kevin replied, grabbing onto his left shoulder. 

His left arm dangled down limply. When the tiger crashed down on him he probably dislocated a joint, or at worst even crushed his scapula. He could be considered lucky to have gotten away from being attacked by a tiger without being fatally harmed. But the fact their group was now down one battle-capable person meant their overall chances of survival were that much lower. 

“We’ll handle lookout, Melissa, so lend Kevin your shoulder, all right?” Cran said, as he gripped his sword and looked around warily. 

This was a soldier’s habit, acquired through months of training. Even when concerned for their friends, they kept a careful grasp of their surroundings. Coile nodded wordlessly and kept watch in the opposite direction from Cran. 

Melissa, who was still standing around aimlessly, hurriedly rummaged through her backpack and pulled out some medicine. Thankfully, she examined Kevin’s injury and found his shoulder had only been dislocated. She fixed a piece of wood to his shoulder, applying the first-aid skills the mercenaries taught them, and had him drink some medicine. Given a few days, he should be able to move his shoulder normally. 

In that regard, their loss of combat potential had been minimized. But that didn’t make Melissa rejoice. She was filled with guilt from the belief that her blunder got Kevin hurt. 

“I’m sorry, Kevin...” Melissa said as she bandaged his shoulder. 

When the tiger attacked her, she simply froze up. And when Kevin was stuck under the body, she couldn’t bring herself to pull him out. She wanted to apologize to Kevin for all of those things put together. 

But her apology only made Kevin’s expression contort in annoyance. 

“What are you apologizing for, stupid? We’re friends.” He scolded her bluntly. 

And yet, those words were full of affection. 

“B-But...” 

“Didn’t we tell you already? We’re a team. We live and die together... Right?” Kevin smiled as he gently patted Melissa on the head. 

His kindness stemmed from absolute trust and affection. 

“Let’s go!” A crimson-haired woman shouted, straddling a horse as she led the convoy, holding a spear up high. 

Abiding by her call, the company left the citadel city of Epirus’s north gate and began marching along the road leading into the Wortenia Peninsula. Over 200 men were riding along the highway silently. It was a grave, solemn sight. Upon seeing the convoy, the merchants and farmers walking along the sides of the road stopped in their tracks and fell silent. Not a single one of them dared say a word. 

They were all so overwhelmed they couldn’t even so much as raise their voices to cheer. The convoy’s gear was all too strange and drew their gazes. It was black. 

Pitch black ebony... 

Their leather armor, their shirts and shoes, the scabbards of their swords and their spear handles. Even the armor of their horses. They were all dyed black. The sole exception were the horses themselves, as not all of them were black, but even so, the ensemble as a whole was strange to behold. 

The next thing to draw their attention was the banner the convoy was carrying. A black flag with a single sword drawn upon it, with a two-headed serpent with gold and silver scales coiled around it. The serpent’s eyes alone glared menacingly forward with a crimson color. 

None of the aspects of this design were exceptional in and of themselves. Swords and serpents were commonly used in banners. But anyone who looked at the banner carried by this convoy felt as if a fist had clenched down on their hearts. It left a vivid, lasting impression on people — as if they’d gazed into a darkness that bellowed up from the bottoms of the earth. 

“So that’s one of that man’s associates...” A white-haired old man whispered, overlooking the convoy from a lookout tower set along Epirus’s ramparts. “Her name is Lione, I believe? I hear she’s an experienced mercenary... Yes, I see. I’d like to say she’s nothing more than a mere woman, but... She’s impressive.” 

The old man gave off a mild demeanor, and he was visibly quite wealthy. He wore clothes made of silk and wore rings set with gemstones, and his corpulent stomach seemed to exclaim the fact he was very well-fed. 

“You’re as prone to concern as Yulia is, father-in-law...” Count Salzberg, who stood next to the old man, replied with a tone that bordered on exasperation. “I’m sure they’re all capable, but I doubt we need to be so wary of Mikoshiba and his lackeys.” 

In truth, he was quite fed up with the old man’s assessment. Lady Yulia had prodded him time and again, urging him to exercise caution regarding Ryoma. Some of the mercenaries Ryoma hired in Epirus were under Count Salzberg’s service, and he’d only resorted to that because Lady Yulia suggested it. 

The Count himself believed there was no need to be so roundabout about the matter, and if he truly wanted to handle Ryoma they might as well mobilize their army and kill him. Lady Yulia, however, didn’t accept that. She was so cautious of the prospect of antagonizing the young Baron it almost felt like she was terrified of him. 

But from Count Salzberg’s perspective, Ryoma’s influence was as good as trash. He didn’t even have a stronghold of his own. The Count had no intention of doubting his wife’s skills, but he truly couldn’t understand why she was so cautious about this man. That doubt turned to displeasure, which filled his heart with ugly pride. 

The old man, however, shook his head silently. 

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that. That convoy’s soldiers were all originally unskilled slaves. But do the soldiers of that organized file of troops strike you as untrained slaves? It’s only been a handful of months since Baron Mikoshiba purchased those slaves and began educating them, but they’re already so disciplined... Count Salzberg, I will be honest. I fear this man.” 

The old man was confident in his discerning gaze. He took the Mystel Company, which at the time was by no means influential in Epirus, and made it into the most successful business in the northern reaches of Rhoadseria. The fact the Mystel Company became the head of the merchant’s union was the result of his talents. 

And it was these achievements that granted him this confidence. And he could confidently say that from his perspective, this convoy heading north was a threat. 

“Absurd,” Count Salzberg turned a glance full of scorn toward the old man. “The gear he bought from you is of fine quality, I’m sure, but the forces using it are glorified mercenaries and slaves. They won’t amount to very much. The way they feign unity using that black-dyed attire is a fine bluff, though; I will grant them that. I suppose it’s more than good enough to plant fear in your heart, father-in-law, given your lack of combat experience.” 

This was his wife’s father, and normally he’d speak to him with due respect. And yet, Count Salzberg regarded him with scorn. Perhaps part of it stemmed from his own self-dignity. Of course, if the old man were to demand his due respect as a father-in-law, Count Salzberg didn’t have to pay any attention to it. And still, he treated his son-in-law with an overtly reserved attitude. 

From the information Lady Yulia gathered, the slaves he bought and the mercenaries he gathered in Epirus amount to less than five hundred people. As a military force, they were moderately large, but it was formed by mercenaries and child slaves. Neither Count Salzberg nor any other noble would see them as particularly threatening. 

The only thing he could honestly praise was that they dyed their gear black. But even then, he regarded it as nothing more than a surface level bluff that didn’t reflect their strength as an army. It was perhaps natural his attitude toward this man would be so chilly, given that he couldn’t even discern that much. 

The old man still seemed to think otherwise, though. 

“You may think so, milord... But don’t you think the convoy is quite orderly?” 

True enough, they marched in a perfect formation. Of course, their unit only numbered several hundred, so the commander’s orders traveled easily. But the old man still felt that a group of people who were completely inexperienced a few months ago could not achieve such an orderly march. 

“Well, I’d imagine that given a few months they would be able to at least march properly.” Count Salzberg shrugged. 

He himself commanded an army, and was gripped by the prejudice that soldiers couldn’t improve that much within just a few months. The convoy walked down the highway in an orderly march, but teaching a complete amateur how to do even that took a great deal of effort. 

In fact, when people were conscripted for an oncoming war, they were first taught how to march in column, and most couldn’t manage it easily. And yet, anyone who was incapable of learning that had no place standing as part of a formation on the battlefield. At best they’d be good for charging headfirst into the enemy. 

And perhaps one couldn’t fault them for it, since they never had to learn how to move with that level of coordination. They were mostly commoners, after all. And yet, Ryoma had trained slave children. They were more obedient than adults, perhaps, but slaves were closer to being living corpses. Trying to teach them anything was very much a hassle. And that just made the idea of this small army being in any way worthy of merit all the more unthinkable. 

I understand the Count’s reservations, and yet I still can’t help but... 

The old man had no military experience, and even he realized the Count’s reasoning. But the troubling thing was that despite understanding this much, he couldn’t shake off the inexplicable anxiety. 

But he didn’t want to sour the Count’s mood any more than he already had. He realized that no explanations would change his mind. 

“But these are just a layman’s ramblings. Pay me no heed, milord.” 

“Then I’ll take my leave,” Count Salzberg nodded lightly and turned around. “I’m a busy man... Oh, but do come visit our estate the next time you can. I’m sure you wouldn’t mind having dinner with Yulia from time to time?” 

“Of course, milord. Next time...” 

Count Salzberg smiled at the old man’s words and began to climb down the staircase leading down from the lookout tower. 

“Such a bothersome man...” The moment Count Salzberg left, the old man whispered to himself after confirming he was alone. “He is skilled, but his judgment is lacking when it comes down to it. And he looks down on commoners and slaves too much. But I suppose he’s better than most other nobles. Nothing would be worse for us than if this man were to fall to ruin...” 

The old man’s expression changed just then. When he spoke to Count Salzberg, he had a mild, almost helpless air to him. He spoke to his son-in-law with almost distant courtesy, and didn’t seem to insist on anything. But if Count Salzberg were to see his face now, he’d completely change his perception of his father-in-law. 

His eyes were now severe, and had a glint to them that seemed to reject the very prospect of carelessness. 

“We mustn’t ignore that army... Not when they were able to perfect their military drills this quickly. But Yulia is right. At this stage, it would be wisest to simply keep an eye on them. Provoking them into opposing us could result in a great deal of trouble.” 

The old man concluded his soliloquy, but his mind was still deep in fervent thought as he glared at the convoy marching north... 

“May I, Father?” 

The old man, who had fallen asleep while lying over the table, jolted awake at the sound of a voice speaking to him. Apparently he’d fallen asleep before he knew it. Last he remembered, it was still noon, but now pale moonlight was shining in through the window to his office, which was otherwise only lit by the light of a single candle. It seems he’d fallen sound asleep. 

“Yulia...” 

The candle she was carrying illuminated the woman’s face, making her features clear to him. She was clad in a black robe and hood, and it was hard to tell at a glance that this was indeed Count Salzberg’s wife. She looked far more plain and ordinary than one could ever imagine after seeing her usual attire. 

“Yes. I’ve been told you called for me... Is this a bad time?” 

She’d probably assumed it was urgent business. 

“No, pardon me for calling you over on such short notice. There’s something we must discuss quickly... You’ve sent everyone away, yes?” He asked her with a tired voice. 

Yulia nodded silently and used her hand to close the office’s door shut. She knew why she was called to this office, and didn’t need to be told to keep this matter private. 

“What did you do? I thought we weren’t to contact each other outside of our regular correspondence so as to not draw his suspicion.” 

“Yes, my apologies... But there is something we need to discuss immediately.” 

“Ryoma Mikoshiba... Right?” Yulia asked with a hint of anxiety as she stood still in front of his desk. 

The old man gave a slow, solemn nod. This alone told Yulia all she needed to know about her father’s mental state. She herself felt this unease, and now so did her father — the man who held control over Epirus’s economy. 

“You think he’s dangerous too, don’t you?” 

“He is...” The old man sighed. “I can’t quite tell to whom he poses danger to, but... He’s certainly a threat to Count Salzberg. I’d felt hints of it a few days ago, when Baron Mikoshiba spoke to me with regards to a delivery of rations. But when I saw his convoy today, I felt it so much more strongly.” 

If a third party were to ask them just what it was they felt, the pair wouldn’t be able to come up with a tangible answer. But their intuition as merchants was warning them, alerting them that letting things continue as they were was dangerous. 

“My husband did grumble about you... He said you’re as much of a coward as I am.” 

Count Salzberg likely told her of his exchange with the old man atop the lookout tower. The old man cracked a bitter smile. 

“Count Salzberg has a tendency to only acknowledge finance and military power as strength...” He said. 

“Perhaps one could call him realistic.” 

“Yes, I understand that much. He is by no means an incompetent man. If he was, I would not have allowed him to marry you... I would not have needed you to marry him.” 

The old man clasped both hands together tightly and brought them before his face. 

Yes, if Thomas Salzberg was an incompetent man, I never would have let a man like him marry my darling daughter. 

This man was in control of Epirus’s economy, and so he knew painfully well just how vile Count Salzberg’s temperament could be. He was a philanderer, dealt with dirty money and was an arrogant noble. None of those were traits a father would find to be desirable in his daughter’s groom. 

But there was one reason that pushed him to allow for the marriage. He simply had to do it. But on the other hand, he never wanted to see her marry him. And if that man was about to sink into trouble, he had no intention of sinking along with him. 

After all, any trouble that befell this man would also fall upon his daughter, Yulia. 

“It should be all right for the time being,” The old man said. “The Wortenia Peninsula is known for being a cursed territory. Developing it would take him a long time. Ryoma Mikoshiba won’t be able to make his move for some time, and I’ve sent a number of spies to mingle among his people. You’ve done the same, haven’t you?” 

“Yes, I’ve pushed a few of our estate’s maids onto him. They’ll be sending me letters every so often. They’re not spies so I don’t think they’ll be able to actually steal any substantial secrets, but they should be able to pick up on something.” 

She’d prepared the girls in secret ever since Ryoma visited Count Salzberg’s estate a few days ago. Their families were living in territories and villages under Count Salzberg’s jurisdiction, so they were unlikely to betray them. They would do as spies. 

“Yes, opposing him openly right now would be a poor play... But we can’t leave him as is, either. We’ll have to keep an eye on him and gather as much information as possible. The question of how his side will handle the girls’ letters should give us some idea of what they intend to do.” 

They didn’t expect them to expose any major secrets. What they wanted from them was information like whether they had enough food or water, the peninsula’s climate and weather, who Ryoma Mikoshiba met with. That kind of simple, day-to-day news. 

But when properly arranged, that banal information could be priceless in the hands of those who knew how to make use of it. And if Ryoma were to do something to stop the girls from sending their letters, that would be one way of telling he was hostile toward Epirus. 

Whichever way things turned out, they’d gain something. 

Relieved by her father’s calm judgment, Yulia put an anxiety she had left unsaid so far to words. A secret she’d kept hidden for as long as she was Count Salzberg’s wife. 

“If Ryoma Mikoshiba’s intentions are what we think they are...” Yulia directed a probing glance at him. “Father, if that happens...” 

The old man nodded. 

“I know. But for now, it’s too early to say... Whatever the case, we can’t make a move yet. I’m sorry, Yulia.” 

The old man then rose from his seat and embraced Yulia, who remained silent. It was a strong embrace full of silence, like that of a parent trying to calm a crying child. 

“Everything’s gone as planned so far.” Ryoma said. 

Everyone seated around the table nodded firmly in affirmation, with indomitable, savage smiles on their lips. 

A territory of their own. A kingdom of their own. And aside from the craving and aspiration for this wish, they were full of absolute confidence that they had successfully braved this dangerous region. 

They’d entered the peninsula and were attacked by monsters dozens of times. Even a hunter that assertively pursues their prey rarely encounters their mark within a day. Compared to that, the rate with which they encountered the monsters was alarmingly high. 

In addition, the monsters that attacked them were all dangerous ones, categorized as medium-level or even high-level by the Adventurer’s Guild. Those encounters did result in a few injured people, but the fact they wiped them all out without any casualties was a tangible accomplishment they took pride in. They couldn’t help but be elated. 

“Tomorrow we finally... we finally get to that spot, right?” Ryoma asked. 

“Yes, at our current speed we should arrive around tomorrow at noon.” Gennou nodded. 

It had been three days since they entered Wortenia. The trail extending from Epirus had long since disappeared, and Ryoma’s convoy was walking through unpopulated hinterlands. The grass grew tall and the foliage was thick, as if to impede people from progressing. As the convoy marched, they had to constantly cut branches that got in their way and step carefully. 

But as harsh as the environment was, they had no shortage of water sources, nor did they struggle to find suitable campsites. This would normally be the hardest part of such a journey, but Ryoma had spent months researching the topography of the Wortenia Peninsula’s inner regions. Thanks to that they knew to pick efficient routes to march across, and through making stops to rest every now and then, they successfully managed to reach the back regions of the peninsula. 

Right now, they sat around a map Gennou made of the Wortenia region as they planned their policy going forward. 

“We owe our progress through the peninsula to the quality of our soldiers, of course, but your orders to look into the region’s topography were also important. The information from Epirus’s guild would have been insufficient.” Sara said, to which everyone nodded in agreement. 

The depths of the peninsula were indeed unexplored regions, but that wasn’t to say no one had ever been there before. Some adventurers did enter the peninsula in search of a way to make quick money. The information they provided was collected by Epirus’s Adventurer’s Guild. 

But owing to Gennou’s advice, Ryoma requested the Igasaki ninja clan to conduct a thorough investigation of the Wortenia Peninsula. The results of that request were clearly evident now. The map spread out before everyone now detailed forests, valleys and rivers. It was hard to imagine how much harder their march would have been without this map. If nothing else, they would not have gotten this far without losing a single soul. 

“Yeah, the fact Gennou and his group found all the good sources of water and locations for campsites was a pretty big boon. We owe you big time, Gennou.” 

The fact of the matter was that groups of a dozen adventurers didn’t look for things an army — albeit a small one of several hundred — might be on the lookout for. Like large sources of water. A trickle of water flowing from between the rocks would do little to satisfy all of Ryoma’s forces. The same held true for campsites for when they stopped for the night. Larger numbers naturally required bigger campsites. 

Gennou gathered that information ahead of time and planned an ideal route for them to march through. Everyone was as thankful as Ryoma was toward the old ninja. Of course, they could produce a stable supply of drinking water through verbal thaumaturgy. That could also be done to secure a large enough space for a campsite, but even so, it saved them the trouble and bother of having to do so. 

“I’ve had the most skilled members of my clan handle this matter...” Gennou replied. “But even so, getting through this land is no simple matter. Two of them were injured upon investigating the depths of the peninsula and have yet to recover. The same holds true for the pirates, but we will have to be wary of... them.” 

“Them...? You mean the demi-humans?” Sara asked. 

At that question, everyone present seemed to tense up. They were already aware of the demi-humans’ existence, but hearing of them a second time after entering Wortenia shocked everyone once again. 

“The demis, eh...” Boltz said, rubbing his chin. “I’ve heard they’re still alive somewhere, but I didn’t really think they still existed.” 

“Same here, Boltz,” Lione nodded grimly. “Those things are still alive... And apparently they even have a colony here.” 

Boltz and Lione were in charge of teaching the slave children, and had only heard of their future plans in broad terms so far. Aside from that role, they had many other issues to handle, like matters of managing the supply line, choosing where to set up campsites and deciding which routes they were going to take. As such, the two of them didn’t know how Ryoma was going to handle the demi-humans. 

To begin with, what even were demi-humans? Demi-humans, or demis for short, was a general term given to bipedal, non-human species that seemed to uphold what was ostensibly a civilization. One could describe them like beastmen, that had an animal’s head but a human’s body, or elves and dwarves. All of those civilized species could be generically categorized as demi-humans. 

But while in the fantasy novels Ryoma knew those kinds of species were considered famous and popular, most of the people in this world hardly ever left their cities, and had never so much as seen a demi. In fact, aside from adventurers that braved the unexplored regions of the western continent, it was safe to say hardly anyone had seen them. 

And that was because legend had it that the demi-humans that were residents of this continent were driven to extinction many years ago by human hands. There were several reasons that led to the presumed extinction of the demi-humans, but the biggest one was believed to be the Church of Light and its faith in the God of Light, Menios. 

According to the faith, six gods created this Earth. Of the six, Menios was considered the chief deity. And the religious group that worshiped the God of Light Menios was the Church of Light. Their doctrine was simple. The God of Light and creator of mankind was the chief deity of this world. And as such, humans, being the chief deity’s creations, were the supreme species. 

This could be said to be true of all religions to some extent. One could very well say religion was a convenient tool developed by people, meant to position themselves as a special existence in this world. This normally wasn’t much of a problem. Religion inspiring a sense that one’s group is the chosen people usually posed no issue in itself. 

And indeed, according to the Church of Light’s documents, the organization had existed for over a thousand years. The extermination of the demi-humans, on the other hand, only took place four hundred years prior to Ryoma’s generation. Which was to say that the Church of Light didn’t make any moves to exterminate the demi-humans until several centuries following its founding. 

Yes, had two men not surfaced and changed the history of the western continent four hundred years or so ago, perhaps the kinds of elves and beastmen the modern Japanese idea of fantasy seems to romanticize would have existed and flourished on this land. 

But things were not so, and the reality of things was that the demi-humans were driven to near-extinction many years ago. The only traces of them still existing were rumors that claimed that small numbers of them still lived in the most remote regions of the continent. 

“So... Are we gonna attack them?” Lione asked. 

It felt like a natural question to her, but Ryoma shook his head in denial. 

“We’ll be keeping a careful watch on the demi-humans for now. We don’t intend to voluntarily engage them for the time being. I’ve already told this to Gennou, but I’m not interested in attacking their village in the northern forest.” 

Lione and Boltz’s eyes widened with surprise. Regardless of the circumstances, the subordinates they sent to investigate the peninsula returned injured. Lione and Boltz couldn’t help but feel that choosing not to do anything about that was an odd choice. 

Judging by Ryoma’s personality, they assumed that even if he didn’t resort to force, he’d at least send a messenger to complain. 

“And honestly, I don’t think provoking them now is a good idea... We’re better off keeping an eye on Count Salzberg and Epirus, so I don’t want us to have more enemies on our hands for now. Besides, the blame is on us for sneaking into their village. So for now I figured we should leave them alone.” 

Concluding his words, Ryoma drew a large red circle on the map around Wortenia’s north — a circle that surrounded roughly one fourth of the peninsula. In other words, this circle was their border with the demi-humans’ territory. 

“I guess that makes sense...” Lione nodded deeply. “The Kingdom of Xarooda’s in a state of chaos right now, so we’re better off not going around and making enemies, eh? And I guess we can’t be too angry when we’re the ones that walked into their territory...” 

The Church of Light’s teachings posited that the demi-humans were tainted existences that were to be killed on sight, but Lione didn’t harbor any particular dislike for them. She was willing to fight the demi-humans if the need called for it, but had no intentions of voluntarily antagonizing them. 

And most of all, Ryoma’s way of thinking was very rational and impartial. The way he admitted that they were wrong in this case and didn’t seek retribution for what was done to his subordinates was a decision Lione viewed favorably. With the matter of the demi-humans put aside, Lione touched on the next problem they had to resolve. 

“What about the pirates, though? We’ll be in trouble if Simone finishes her preparations but we don’t have a port to accept it, won’t we?” 

The pirates’ presence was a major hindrance to Ryoma’s secret pact with Simone. Handling them was a major problem, regardless of if they were to be persuaded to leave or forcibly removed. Lione didn’t have the leisure to ask Ryoma about it because of her workload, but she did want to hear about how he’d decided to deal with the pirates. 

“I can only say one thing about that. Honestly speaking, my country has no need for pirates.” Ryoma answered her question with a slight shrug. 

There was a small fire lit within the large tent, which helped keep the place warm — but despite that, everyone felt a cold shiver run down their spines at Ryoma’s words. This was despite the fact he was as calm and collected as ever. But none of the people in this tent mistook the meaning behind what he’d said. 

“So we’re gonna have to wipe them out, huh...” Lione murmured. 

It was a whisper, but everyone heard it all too clearly. 

“You all right, Melissa?” Coile asked her with concern in his voice, noticing the girl was restlessly stirring the stew in her bowl without ever carrying it into her mouth. 

They were sitting around a bonfire as they ate their warm dinners. The sense of pressure that hung over them during their march had mellowed down already, and the area was full of the kind of laughter one might expect out of a large group of children. 

But in contrast to the joyful tumult around her, Melissa was sitting quietly. No... a bit too quietly. 

“I’m... I’m fine.” Melissa replied gloomily. 

“Fine, huh...?” Coile directed a questioning glance at Melissa. “Lemme guess. You’re thinking about Hanna.” 

“How did you...?!” Melissa looked back at him with surprised eyes, as if shocked he’d seen into her heart. 

Coile sighed. They’d lived and worked together as part of the same group for months, so he could handily pick up on the way her emotions swung. 

“It’s not like thinking about someone who bailed on us is gonna help anyone, right?” Coile spat out in a slightly disgusted tone. “If she’s lucky, she found her way back to some city and she’s safe now.” 

In his eyes, Hanna was an ingrate and a traitor. He didn’t intend to go after the girl and kill her, but he did resent her enough to not care if she had died on the roadside. That emotion seeped into his words somewhat. 

“Don’t say that...” Melissa raised her voice somewhat at those words. 

Hanna was a slave girl who was part of the same team as Melissa. But there was no sight of her nearby anymore. She couldn’t bear the strain of their training and fled the group with a few other children. No one doubted that Hanna was at fault, and Melissa knew this. 

And yet she couldn’t carry this warm stew to her lips right now. An escaped slave’s fate was set in stone. 

“I mean, what can you do? She ran away because she couldn’t handle the training, right?” Melissa’s angry words only made Coile’s emotions flare up in turn. “Or did you forget our debt to Master Mikoshiba for setting us free and want to side with the ones who ran?” 

It was the night before they reached their objective in the Wortenia peninsula, a turning point for their leader Ryoma Mikoshiba’s aspirations. This was clear from the ingredients in the stew they were given, along with the fact that everyone was permitted to drink alcohol that night. 

And during what was a day of celebration, Melissa ignored her master’s goodwill and worried over a girl who escaped and betrayed their group. Coile found that difficult to tolerate. 

“They’re traitors, Melissa!” He shouted, as if spitting the words out. 

He’d probably been too loud, because the tumult around them suddenly cut off and everyone directed a questioning gaze at him. Coile ignored those stares, though, and let the emotions he’d kept hidden so far bubble to the surface because of Melissa’s attitude. 

The training was harsh. The slaves had to overcome the fear of being in real combat, and it wasn’t something every single one of them could reasonably clear. Coile understood that. But the one that elevated them out of their status as slaves was Ryoma. Of course, he knew this wasn’t done purely out of good intentions, but he still gave them the chance they needed to claw their way out of slavery. 

In this world, chances to rise up from weakness were few and far between. And that only made it harder for Coile to forgive the ones who chose to run. They were granted this precious chance, and still chose to turn their back on the one who gave it to them... 

“I...” Melissa couldn’t find the words to talk back against Coile’s cold reasoning. 

“Hey, Coile, leave her alone.” 

“Kevin...” 

Kevin, who had stayed out of their exchange so far, stepped in. He likely felt Coile had grown too emotional. Kevin was the leader of their team, which meant Coile had to stop. He didn’t intend to blame Melissa, after all. 

“Sorry, I went too far...” Coile said and stood up. 

“Where are you going?” Kevin eyed him suspiciously. 

“I’ll go sit with people from some other teams.” Coile replied and stared back at Kevin with an unflinching gaze. 

Kevin immediately understood what those eyes were trying to convey. 

“Fine... Cran, you go with Coile, all right?” Kevin turned the conversation over to Cran, who was the only one to sit quietly by and eat his stew. 

Kevin thought he needed to speak to Melissa privately right now. Prompted by his firm gaze, Cran got to his feet and walked off, following Coile. Confirming the two had left, Kevin turned to Melissa and gathered the courage needed to ask that question. 

It was a suspicion he hesitated to even put into words. Even if this doubt was wrong and off the mark, if the others were to learn he suspected Melissa like this, it would make them lose everything they’d built up together so far... 

“Are you... holding a grudge?” Kevin’s expression was far too stern for her to assume this was some kind of a joke. 

“Huh?” Melissa asked back. 

But she clearly heard what he said. He’d spoken quietly, so everyone else wouldn’t hear him, but his words reached her ears. Still, she couldn’t quite understand what he’d meant, so she could only answer his question with a question of her own. 

“Are you... holding a grudge against Master Mikoshiba because of the people that ran away?” he said with a hint of hesitance in his voice. 

Melissa looked at Kevin with surprise. She clearly didn’t expect this question, but the meaning of what he’d just said was registering in her mind. 

“No! Why would I?” Melissa raised her voice. 

Why? Why would I hold a grudge against him for that? 

Melissa truly asked herself that question. In her eyes, Ryoma was a kind king, a savior that freed her and her friends from their life as slaves. She couldn’t imagine holding a grudge against him. Her body trembled with anger at the very notion of it. A greater anger than anything she’d likely felt in her entire life. 

Kevin looked at her expression wordlessly. It was as if his gaze was sharply, unflinchingly trying to look into her very heart. The two kept looking at each other for a long moment, during which the sound of the fire crackling in the kindling felt that much louder to Melissa’s ears. 

“I guess you really don’t hold a grudge against him.” Kevin eventually said, the tension draining from his face. 

He’d likely judged, by looking at her expression, that those were her true feelings. But Melissa ignored his words and shouted at him. And she couldn’t be faulted for it. The accusation he’d just leveled against her was that sudden and appalling. 

“Why? Why would you ask me that?!” She raised her voice with an indignation one wouldn’t expect out of her usual demeanor. 

But rather than be taken aback by her anger, Kevin simply sighed heavily. 

“Melissa... You really don’t understand, do you?” 

Seeing her reaction made his expression darken in an exasperated, but somehow convinced manner. As if something he’d been vaguely aware of had just been confirmed. 

“What do you mean?” 

“I meant exactly what I said... You don’t understand the position you’re in.” 

Melissa furrowed her brows. 

“I understand how much Lord Mikoshiba did for us too, you know.” 

She would never forget the day she survived their final trial and was recognized as a full-fledged soldier. At first there were three hundred or so of the slaves, but on that day their numbers were reduced to nearly two hundred and fifty. Roughly twenty percent of the slaves went missing during the final trial. 

And as promised, those of them who survived were freed of their slave status. They were all gathered in a square, where their slave contracts were burned before their eyes. For Melissa... No, for everyone present there, that sight was an act of benevolence that could not be matched by anything else. Their very lives had been returned to their hands. This was something she would never forget for as long as she lived. 

Kevin shook his head, though. 

“No, that’s not what I meant... I’m talking about what comes next.” 

“What comes next...?” Melissa parroted him in clear misunderstanding. 

They were indebted to Ryoma Mikoshiba, and they were aware of it. What else could there be besides that? 

“All right, listen. Lord Mikoshiba is a benevolent man. He freed us from slavery. We were just labor slaves, but he gave us a means to fight, taught us so many things and gave us everything we need to live... But he’s not doing it out of good will. I mean, I do think good will is part of it, but I think he gave us power so we can help him with something.” 

This was something Melissa was somewhat aware of. He spent a large amount of money on the slaves and put in time and effort to teach them how to fight. She realized he hadn’t done that entirely out of mercy or the kindness of his heart. 

“He’s testing us...” Kevin whispered, looking around anxiously. 

“Testing us?” Melissa whispered back. “What is he testing us for?” 

“He’s trying to see if we’re really going to obey him.” 

Teaching slaves how to fight meant granting them the tools to oppose their master. This was why slaves typically weren’t given an education. Heavy seals were applied to war slaves that inhibited their power unless their master gave them explicit permission. But Ryoma didn’t place any limitations or seals on the children he bought in Epirus. In fact, this was why so many slaves escaped from their severe training early on. 

Ryoma initially had the children divided into teams of five for their basic training. The members of each group always acted together. They ate together and slept in the same tent. 

“See, right now we’re a group of five, including one of the mercenaries they hired in Epirus. Do you understand what that means?” 

The structure of the teams had changed since they began their thaumaturgy training. What was once a group of five children was broken into a group of four children and one mercenary. Of course, the experienced mercenaries served the role of commanders for the teams, but things didn’t boil down to just that. 

A certain suspicion surfaced in Melissa’s heart. 

“Is he there to... monitor us?” Melissa whispered, to which Kevin nodded wordlessly. 

This made Melissa understand what Kevin and Coile were anxious about. 

“You see? They filtered us out before, and they’re filtering us out even now.” Kevin said. 

Those words struck into Melissa’s heart like a wedge. 

Maybe I said too much... Kevin thought to himself, a sense of guilt coming over him as he saw Melissa’s petrified, guilty expression. No... I feel bad for her, but she needed to hear this. 

In their eyes, Ryoma was a king worthy to lay down their lives for. When they were put up as slaves, no one reached a helping hand out to Kevin and the others. All that the people passing through the slave merchants’ shops in Epirus’s back alleys provided were gazes of pity and scorn, if not outright sneers. But Ryoma alone treated them differently. 

We made an oath that day... The day he called our names... 

The events of that day were still vivid in Kevin’s mind. 

The following day, Ryoma Mikoshiba and his convoy reached their objective. It was an inlet. They pushed their ways through the thick trees and shrubbery, moving along the bank of a large, 400-meter wide river. They followed the current as it made a sharp turn west, when the scenery suddenly changed before their eyes. 

The first things they noticed were the white dunes of shores extending to the north and south of them, and beyond it, the transparent, cerulean waters of the sea. The waves washing against the shore were gentle, and the salty scent of the wind tickled their noses gently. Further into the gulf, they could make out the shadows of a few islands. 

This land was completely untouched by man. It was the very incarnation of the dichotomy between the rough essence of the wilderness and the beauty of nature. The region was surrounded by low, triangular mountains, forming a natural fortress. But if they could clear this forest and make use of the river flowing into the sea, they would have everything they’d need to be self-sufficient. 

“I see... I saw the report, but this really is a good plot of land.” 

Standing atop a cliff that stuck out and overlooked the inlet, the two looked down on the region. The two of them came to survey the region. Gennou sat on horseback, while Ryoma stood beside him, squinting under the intense light of the sun. Gennou spoke with a satisfied smile, proud to see the report his clan had delivered was accurate. 

“Yeah, an ideal plot of land if there ever was one,” Ryoma nodded and looked around. “Be sure to serve them some of your finest alcohol.” 

A large river and a forest, as well as a slightly open area near the shore. Within that area, a large number of people were going to and fro, busily setting up camp. Logs were thrust into the ground so as to set up tents. 

Ryoma regarded the sight with a satisfied smile. The river flowing out toward the gulf offered them a supply of drinking water. They could also use it for agriculture and for a moat, should they build a castle. They had plenty of lumber from the nearby forest, and the more trees they would clear out, the more farmland they could acquire. The four-day walk from Epirus was just the right distance, and the location was perfect in terms of defenses, too. 

Gennou’s smile broadened at Ryoma’s words. He was proud to have his accomplishments praised. Ryoma, on his end, knew how important it was to reward his subordinates for their accomplishments. And that didn’t have to mean a monetary reward. The truly important part was being thankful and considerate of the effort they put forth to achieve it. 

I appreciate your efforts. You’ve done well. Thank you. Those small words of consideration went a long way to solidify interpersonal relationships. 

“I’m grateful for your words, milord. I’m sure they will be happy to hear of your praise as well.” 

“I mean, being able to freely choose our base is one of the few advantages we have. It only makes sense we’d look for the best land possible. But I didn’t imagine this area would be this good. We’ll be able to build a village in no time with this.” 

The fact this was an undeveloped land that hadn’t been touched by man meant Ryoma could build his base wherever he desired. Were there even a single, small settlement on this peninsula, Ryoma would not have had this freedom of choice. The need to ensure the citizens’ safety would mean he’d have to develop around that settlement, no matter how disadvantageous its position might have been. 

After all, he didn’t have the military to defend an existing settlement while developing a new base of his own. 

“Lad! We’ve set up the camp!” Boltz’s voice called out to him. “Come, over here.” 

Apparently, their camp was ready. Starting tomorrow, they would cut down the forest and begin building their village. 

“So this is where it really begins, huh...” 

Ryoma turned a challenging glance to the south. As if glaring at a yet-unseen opponent...