NOVEL WEB Book 3: Chapter 2
A delegation to send to the royal capital in Cavarin was hastily pieced together.
After all, Cavarin couldn’t be reached in a day or two. That meant they had to decide on a route, find lodgings along the way, gather their entourage, and prepare the necessary provisions. On top of it all, they had to align themselves with Western culture.
“Ninym, I’m going to Cavarin by carriage. Go ahead and bring it out.”
“Really? All right, but carriages are typically for women.”
“In the East. Especially in the Empire.”
The Empire was a meritocracy, where riding on horseback was a symbol of strength. There, it would be ridiculous for royals and noblemen to use carriages. Others would point and laugh that they couldn’t ride a horse without training wheels.
“There’s an understanding in the West that nobles shouldn’t excessively be in the public eye. If a royal was to ride in on a horse unaided, they’d be seen as a foreign barbarian. At least, that’s what Claudius told me.”
“I see. I’ll have it ready.”
“I’m leaving that to you. I have to go review Western etiquette with Claudius… They’re a stiff crowd.”
The delegation’s preparations to head West proceeded steadily—until a certain issue arose.
“Prince Regent, I’m terribly sorry, but might you cut a few more people from your party?” Holonyeh asked. “The Holy Elites will be attending the Festival of the Spirit, which means the royal capital will be more congested than we expected.”
In other words, they’d hit max capacity.
Even under the best circumstances, a festival brought in local crowds. Add in Wein and the Holy Elites, and it wasn’t hard to see why Cavarin would have a hard time finding lodging for everyone.
But Wein had an objection.
“I unfortunately can’t make it any less than fifty. It’ll cause trouble for my guards.”
After all, this was an age where bandits were liable to crop up as soon as they left behind civilization. It had been that way while they were out on the royal tour, and there was no way Wein could walk around without any guards.
Even from a power perspective, it was important for people to accompany him. If his retinue was too small, people would wonder if that was all the crown prince of Natra could afford. But if he went overboard, his peers would be intimidated, fretting that he was coming to declare war and becoming hypervigilant. With this in mind, Wein had settled on fifty and showed no intention of backing down.
Holonyeh eventually acquiesced, so his delegation stayed intact. The emissary returned to Cavarin ahead of time to relay Wein’s answer, while Wein plugged away at his overdue work and wrestled over how to put Falanya in a good mood.
Two weeks after Holonyeh made his return, everything was in order, and they were at last ready to depart.
Wein was now in a carriage headed for Cavarin.
“ I’m honestly shocked.”
Soldiers in his retinue were stationed on all sides, and gaudy ornamentation adorned the carriage. Anyone could tell their group belonged to a noble.
“About what?” Ninym asked as she sat across from him. Wein reached toward her.
“Your hair.” Wein ran his fingers through a tuft of it.
“Ah.” She touched it in understanding.
It was black.
Ninym’s head of snowy hair had been dyed the color of night.
“You know that the Flahm are masters of disguise, right? I’m not as good as Nanaki, but I can do at least this much.”
They were heading toward the Kingdom of Cavarin in the west, where racial prejudice ran deep. In particular, the Flahm were scorned. Wein had questioned whether to bring along Ninym, who was both his close aide and a Flahm.
Cavarin had to have their own unique ways of thinking. And Wein wanted Ninym nearby to give him advice. Ninym herself had no objections.
But it would cause unnecessary trouble for her to appear as a Flahm. Hence this solution: Ninym dyed her hair.
“I can’t change my eye color, but as long as no one pays close attention, they won’t realize I’m a Flahm.”
“You had me fooled. I couldn’t even tell it was dyed.”
“That’s because this is a secret trick of the Flahm people.” Then, with a dyed head of hair, Ninym flashed Wein a mischievous grin, pressing him for his opinion. “Oh, Wein. By the way, do you think I look better with white or black?”
“Oh, there it is. Right here, right now. I already know you’ll get all huffy whichever one I pick.”
“Oh, and by the way, it’ll come back to bite you if you try to get out of it by teasing me.”
“……” He’d been cornered. With some difficulty, Wein considered all options before coming to a conclusion.
“ White!”
Oh-ho, Ninym’s face seemed to say.
“It’s rare for you to be this resolute.”
“Hey now, Ninym, I am an honest prince who upholds a creed of decisiveness.”
“Yeah, yeah. Hmm. White, huh?” Ninym took a lock in her hand and gently dabbed her eyes. “And to think that I dyed it black just for you. You’re breaking my heart.”
“There it is, dammit! That’s not fair!”
“‘Not fair,’ my butt. It’s a totally normal reaction for a woman.”
“Yeah? Then I’ve got something else to say. Listen up, Ninym! Yeah, you asked me if I preferred black or white, but you never specified that it was about your hair! In other words!”
“‘In other words’?”
“I was talkin’ about underwear. —Bweh.”
Ninym’s fist had sunk deep into Wein’s cheek.
“Well, I might have gotten carried away, too. Let’s strike a deal.”
“I’m sure I’ve been struck enough for the day.”
“To make up for your pain, you can touch my hair as much as you like… Oh, but not too hard. The color will come out.”
Rub, rub, rub.
“Hey! I just said don’t do that! It’ll be difficult to redo this, you know!”
Wein laughed and let go as Ninym snarled at him with bared teeth. She jabbed a finger at the tip of his nose.
“And, Wein, I’m warning you right now that you can’t be reckless once we’re in Cavarin. Even if you don’t agree with their culture and ideologies, you can’t go flying off the handle. I’ll stay in the background and hide away indoors as much as possible.”
“Okay, okay, I know. I’m not that stupid.”
“Then can you promise me?”
“Sure. Have I ever broken a promise before?”
“All the time.”
“…Guess we just have to have faith in the future me!”
“If you break your promise, I’ll stuff a potato in every orifice of your body.”
“It’s not very good to waste food…!”
Their conversation carried on in this fashion until a knock came from outside the carriage window. The two turned to see Raklum next to them on horseback.
Raklum was a commander in the army of Natra who had sworn loyalty to Wein. Though still young, he was excellent in battle and was a capable leader, which was why he had been entrusted with overseeing the delegation.
“Your Highness, I apologize for interrupting. We will soon be arriving at the Jilaat gold mine, and I wish to give my report.”
“Oh, we’re finally here.”
Last year, Natra had seized the Jilaat gold mine after a war with Marden. They had been under the impression that the reserves had dwindled, but they discovered a new pocket of gold, making it one of Natra’s most crucial holdings.
“The locals have been given advance notice, and they should be ready to receive us. I think we should rest at the foot of the mine as planned tonight.”
“Understood. I’ll leave it to you.”
“Very good, Your Highness.” Raklum distanced himself from the carriage.
The journey from Natra to Cavarin was a long one. It couldn’t be done in a day, which was why they had decided on a number of rest stops. The foot of the gold mine was one of them.
“Wein, keep in mind that there’s supposed to be a banquet and a meeting upon arrival.”
“Got it. With who?”
“Supervisor Pelynt and General Hagal. We have no plans to enter the fortress in front of the gold mine, so we’ll be meeting them there.”
“Hagal, huh? …I see. Perfect timing. There’s something else I want to talk about with him.”
Ninym nodded. “Don’t forget the banquet. As a politician, it’s important that you show the people your good side.”
“I know, I know. Besides, if I pass this opportunity up, who knows when I’ll be able to eat Natran food again. I plan on enjoying it while I can.”
The delegation slowly continued winding its way to the foot of the mine.
“We have been expecting you, Prince Wein.”
The local magistrate of the Jilaat gold mine—a man named Pelynt—greeted the delegation at the base of the mountain. He had originally been a vassal of Marden but spent his days in exile, toiling as a miner after losing a political battle. But when Wein had showed up with his forces to capture the mine, he had noticed Pelynt and appointed him as a local magistrate.
“Thanks for coming to meet us.” Wein climbed out of the carriage and offered his gratitude with a wry smile. “Who knew we’d be seeing each other again so soon. Sorry for imposing on you like this.”
Wein had actually stayed at the gold mine during his winter visits. They had thrown a huge banquet then, too, which was why he was feeling bad about showing up again so quickly.
“I’m obliged by your generous words, but please have no fear. There is no one here who would be unhappy to welcome the prince who saved our lives. You can make all the visits in the world. It may be modest, but we have prepared a feast for you. Please, right this way.”
Guided by Pelynt, Wein set off with Ninym and his guards.
…Things really have changed around here.
Wein noted their surroundings. It was now a prospering town, far better than what it had been like before.
Since coming under Natra’s rule, the lives of the people working in the gold mine had improved drastically. This could all be attributed to Wein’s policies. Once known for its squalid environment and harsh working conditions, the mine had claimed the lives of many of its laborers, which Wein had deemed unacceptable. Instead of treating people as disposable beasts of burden, Wein had made it a priority to provide them with sufficient safety, homes, food, and pay. He considered mining as only a part of their work, earning enough respect to access their knowledge and experience.
Of course, there were other motivations at play, too. It would have been a big pain if they rebelled due to mistreatment. And he’d given off a philanthropic vibe that he couldn’t back out on anymore. In any case, the people of the mine had welcomed his new policies with open arms.
They had set to work, roused by the need to meet Prince Wein’s expectations. Some were more than happy to try to slack off, but Wein—who was lazier than most—had anticipated this and put strict ordinances in place to keep that to a minimum.
The mine had begun to buzz with energy, and people from the surrounding area started to stream in as word spread. As the population grew, the merchants with the sharpest eyes showed up. The miners lavished them with generous profits, and it wasn’t long before more people realized they could make a killing here. Next to arrive were craftsmen as the townspeople demanded more homes and sundries—and before anyone realized it, the Jilaat gold mine had become a bustling mining town.
“I know I asked last time, but have there been any changes to the mine itself, Pelynt?”
“Yes. The equipment and tunnels damaged during the war have been repaired. Since we have more hands available now, the excavation has been proceeding very smoothly. At present, we have begun to search for new pockets of gold along with our usual activities.”
The gold mine was doing well. That was thrilling news. Inside, Wein grinned sloppily.
“I’m glad to hear it. Don’t let management slip from getting too caught up in mining. If you get too many people coming in and out, you’ll attract the more unsavory types.”
“Yes! I will keep that in mind.” Pelynt gave a reverent bow.
As Wein nodded magnanimously, there was a small poke in his ribs.
“Wein, your face.”
“Oops.”
His face must have slackened upon hearing the news of the mine. With Ninym by his side to rebuke him with a whispered comment, Wein hurriedly composed his expression.
In any case, it would seem the mine is doing well.
Wein couldn’t have been happier. It had been well worth it to construct a road connecting the royal capital in Natra to the mine to facilitate the exchange of goods and people.
Thanks to this new road, their carriage had been able to travel to the mine, despite the ground still being slick with snow. It was difficult to predict what decisions could make an impact in the future, but this had been a lucky bet.
Which leaves military preparedness as the primary remaining concern.
In all aspects, the gold mine was drool worthy. If the booming mining town continued to develop, its value would climb even higher. Wein knew there were a number of forces ready to swipe it from under their noses the moment they got a chance. To prevent that, the town would need to strengthen its defenses.
Well, in actuality, Wein was already a step ahead. He had constructed a new defensive fortress to the west of the mine, garrisoned by a top general in Natra, Hagal. Its mission was to hold out against the remaining Marden troops and Cavarin. But with the fortress unfinished, only the bare minimum of soldiers had been stationed there.
“To bring this fortress up to par, we’ll need three times the provisions, labor, funds, and time,” Hagal had said. And where exactly was Wein going to find all that?
As he thought, the party arrived in front of a noticeably elegant mansion. The structure dated back to when the land was still Marden territory, and it was currently serving as a reception hall and guesthouse for visiting dignitaries.
“By the way, Pelynt, where’s Hagal?”
It was an innocent enough question, but Pelynt looked slightly unsettled.
“It seems the general hasn’t arrived yet… He must be delayed with administrative tasks…”
“I see. Well, no matter.” Wein wasn’t particularly bothered by this and headed toward the mansion.
Walking beside him, Wein noticed in secret that Pelynt’s profile looked nervous.
At the reception hall, the banquet proceeded smoothly. Wein conversed with the mine residents and merchants as he smacked his lips over the food. Since they’d just had a feast together a short while ago, no one was especially nervous, and the overall atmosphere was inviting.
But right in the middle of it all, a single incident ruined the moods.
Just as the party was in full swing, Hagal made his appearance.
“Your Highness, I apologize for my tardiness. It is I, Hagal.”
The old man got down on one knee, and Wein spoke with a wineglass in one hand. “Glad you could make it. But arriving later than me? I think you’re getting a little careless.”
It was a sharp comment that came directly from the crown prince himself. The people around them knew Wein to be mild mannered and instinctively jolted in nervous shock.
“I have no excuse. I take full responsibility,” Hagal apologized as all eyes focused on him.
Wein smiled. “I’m joking. I know you’re busy. Here, pull up a chair.”
“Of course.”
Urged by Wein, Hagal joined the banquet. Wein rebuked him no further, and the others in attendance breathed an internal sigh of relief.
“…Phew.”
The party came to an end, and as the evening grew late, Pelynt heaved a heavy sigh in a corner of the mansion. He sighed for two reasons: because the event had concluded without a hitch and to ease his nerves.
“Sir Pelynt,” a voice called out behind him.
He turned around to find Raklum standing there.
“Oh, Sir Raklum. I apologize for having you meet me here.”
Raklum often accompanied Wein, which was why he had met Pelynt on a few occasions during the war with Marden and the recent royal visits. They’d established a kind of familiar relationship.
“Don’t worry about it. There seems to be something you want to ask me. What could it be? Is there a problem with the night guards?”
“No, nothing like that.” Pelynt shook his head, though he struggled to get the next words out. He knew it would touch a nerve with Raklum, who had placed his faith in Wein.
“Sir Pelynt?”
“…Please allow me to say that I don’t believe this at all of the crown prince regent. But there is something that I must confirm.” Even as he sensed the dangerous aura emitting from Raklum, Pelynt continued. “Recently, a certain rumor has been traveling throughout these parts. It began after His Highness’s recent visits.”
“…And what could that be?”
Pelynt paused for a few seconds, then steeled himself.
“That General Hagal had displeased Prince Wein, and a chasm has opened up between them—”
“…A rift between me and Hagal?”
In a room prepared for them in the mansion, Wein murmured as he sat on a chair.
“Yes. It appears this rumor is spreading across every region,” Ninym replied politely as she stood nearby.
A rumor about discord between the crown prince and a prominent military leader. Common sense would say this was a grave issue. If they weren’t careful, it might even lead to a large-scale rebellion…
“Our strategy’s working pretty well, huh, Hagal?”
“Indeed.” Hagal bowed in reverence. “The plan to spread these rumors to lure dissenters to come together around me so we can round them up all at once… Everything is as you predicted.”
That was right. The rumors of bad blood between the two were part of the grand plan that Wein had secretly proposed to Hagal when he came to conduct his winter tour. He figured that even if he was away scouting things out, the rebels wouldn’t make a move without a leader. That was where Hagal came in. He was an established military figure, and in a nation where most generals lacked actual battle experience, few had as many achievements as him. He would make an excellent rebel leader. If these rumors spread, the malcontents would try to get in touch with him. At least, that was the idea.
“None have approached me yet, but it will not be long before we see results.”
“Right. Be sure to contact me if anything happens.”
“Understood.”
They chatted for a while longer before Hagal left the room. Wein adopted a look of pure rapture at the progress of his scheme. But Ninym felt otherwise.
“Hey, Wein, are you really going to go forward with this plan?”
“What? Are you against it, Ninym?”
She nodded as if that was obvious. To start, this plan was essentially a fake feud between Wein, the head of the nation, and Hagal, a well-trusted military official. It would incite the rebels—and stir unrest in the nation. Ninym didn’t see the merit of going this far to incite a rebellion.
“I know what you mean. I’m still hung up on something I saw when we visited the most suspicious bunch.”
“Do you really think they’re planning to rebel?”
“That’s what I want to confirm. And if it does end up being true, I want to move this plan forward and get the upper hand.”
“…Okay, fine. But even then, don’t forget to back out if things keep dragging out,” Ninym said, stating her honest opinion. “If this plan of yours goes on for too long, you run the risk of hurting General Hagal’s reputation. Not to mention that the general was born in a nation that prizes reputation above all else.”
To most, reputation was key. But for those whose livelihood was tied to war, it was of utmost importance. They were always dancing with death, which made many of them want to die with a noble legacy, if nothing else.
Plus, Hagal was old. It was natural that he was preoccupied with peace of mind over fleeting worldly gain. Ninym didn’t think injuring his reputation was a good idea at all.
“If he gets fed up with you and the deteriorating situation, he might actually rebel.”
“Oh, he won’t do that. I talked with him while we were out making the rounds. Plus, he’s like a grandfather to me and Falanya.”
“Which means you’re using your grandfather as bait,” Ninym retorted.
Wein raised his hands in defeat. “Okay, okay. If time passes, and I’m not making any progress, I’ll back out. Deal?”
Ninym nodded. Since the plan was already in motion, this was as good as it was going to get.
Wein had opinions of his own. She’s totally overthinking this, he grumbled.
“You think I’m overreacting.”
“Gah.” He didn’t even have time to wonder how she’d read his mind.
Ninym tugged Wein’s cheek.
“For your information, you’re too optimistic. General Hagal is someone you should be treating carefully as it is, but this—”
“No, okay, I get it. I was wrong.”
Wein hastily cut off her loud lecture, which was starting to seem very long.
Meanwhile, Hagal had left the mansion after parting with Wein—rather than retire to his room. He gazed at the night sky all alone.
“Ah! So this is where you were, General Hagal.”
He turned around to see a woman. “I’ve seen you somewhere before.”
“Yes. I am Ibis the merchant. I have been visiting this town regularly for some time now.” She bowed deeply—with grace that didn’t appear merchantly at all.
“…And what business do you have with me?”
Ibis responded, “Actually, I have welcome news for Your Excellency.”
“Oh? And what might that be?”
At this, Ibis revealed an elegant smile. It was soft and as dark as the void.
“One that will immediately dispel your troubles—”
After leaving the mining town, the delegation passed by the fortress in progress and headed southwest along the highway. Cavarin territory officially began past the fortress, though Wein knew it was a hot point of contention.
“This is a disputed zone between the remnant troops of Marden and the Cavarin forces. Until we enter Cavarin’s main sphere of influence, we’ll proceed with caution.”
“Understood.”
Obeying Wein’s instructions, the delegation stayed vigilant for the old Marden army.
The royal capital of Marden had fallen to Cavarin’s surprise attack during the war with Natra. But Helmut, the second prince of the Marden Kingdom, had escaped, gathering together the soldiers who retreated from the mine to form his own army.
It was commonly referred to as the Remnant Army, though they called themselves the Liberation Front. They fought to retake the royal capital and revive the Kingdom of Marden. That was why they had their spears pointed at Cavarin, still engaged in combat even a year later.
Fortunately for Natra, Cavarin wasn’t alone in wanting to avoid a two-front war at all costs. The Remnant Army also hadn’t interfered with Natra’s efforts to up the mine’s defenses.
But stepping into a disputed zone was a different story. Wein had heard reports that things had calmed down during winter, but the conflict could start to stir again at any moment.
Pleaaaase don’t let us run into any trouble, Wein prayed from the bottom of his heart as the carriage swayed.
That was when he noticed Ninym at his side intensely staring at something.
“Whatcha lookin’ at, Ninym?”
“A map. I’m checking our route.” Her eyes never left the page. “Based on our information from Hagal, it seems the Remnant Army is based around here. We have to pass through as swiftly and silently as possible—or we’ll get spotted. There are three roads that will take us to Cavarin’s royal capital, but the central one may be our safest option. The shortest is along a cliff, and there’s talk of occasional landslides. In terms of our schedule, it seems— Wein?”
“Sorry, let me see that for a sec.” Wein took the map from Ninym’s hands, cracked open the window, and leaned outside.
“Hmm…”
The delegation was passing through some hills, the area marked by the barren, undulating terrain. At a quick glance, Wein could see potential hiding spots. Way off into the distance, he could make out a forest. It was still blanketed in snow, and after checking the map on hand, he beckoned Raklum, whose dubious look seemed to question if something had happened.
“Your Highness, is something troubling you?”
“This map shows that forest ahead of us. What do you think?”
“……” Raklum compared the map and terrain—and his expression changed from calm to stern. “…It was impossible to tell from the map alone, but I am suspicious of these surroundings now that we’re here.”
“Exactly my thoughts. Send a few scouts ahead. Hagal says there are bandits galore—in addition to soldiers from Marden and Cavarin.”
“Understood.” Raklum quickly relayed the instructions to his subordinates, and three horsemen raced off toward the craggy rock face ahead.
With bated breath, the onlookers observed the delegation from the shadowy hills.
“—You think they noticed?”
“Not yet. But it’s only a matter of time.”
Their faces were hidden by cloth, and they held swords and spears in hand.
“They have…fifty escorts, huh? Just like we’d heard.”
“I bet they could have culled some more people from that guard detail. Damn that useless deadwood.”
“What should we do, Captain?”
“We don’t have much choice. We’ll start ahead of schedule.”
Things were set in motion.
“ Wha—?!” Raklum was the first to notice something was off. “Enemies! Troops, ready your weapons!”
The guards quickly responded to his raised voice. Wein was impressed by their swiftness as they readied their swords and spears. But for all that, it didn’t negate the advantage of the enemy’s surprise attack. On both sides of the road, dozens of assailants appeared, charging into their procession.
“Wein! Get down!” Ninym yanked Wein and pushed him to the carriage floor.
A beat later, one spear shot straight over their heads—then two. Another grazed past the coachman up front as he tumbled over.
“Protect the carriage!” Raklum’s voice echoed from outside.
From the fierce bellows and sudden clash of swords, Wein knew the battle had begun.
“Your Highness! Are you all right?!” shouted Raklum.
Inside, Ninym answered as she continued to hold down Wein. “He’s alive! What’s the situation?!”
“A pincer attack! We’re at a disadvantage! The enemy— Get outta my way!”
They heard the whistling of a sword and then a bloodcurdling shriek. Blood sprayed across the passenger window.
“We don’t know who the attackers are! Their numbers and skill are about equal to our own! I propose forcing our way through!” Raklum sounded uneasy.
Above Wein, Ninym listened as a shiver went down her spine, realizing the situation was dire.
But Wein’s mind was already one step ahead. Which one is it—?!
The delegation consisted of about fifty experienced elite soldiers. But their opponent appeared to possess the same numbers and skill. To execute this perfect pincer, it couldn’t be the work of average bandits.
So who were they?
Wein already had the answer.
They’re soldiers disguised as bandits! They immediately targeted the carriage because they’re after me! If I had to guess, there’s a good chance that it’s either Cavarin or the Remnant Army!
In an instant, Wein had pieced together his theory, which was how he arrived at his earlier question: Which one?
There are clues, but it’s impossible to be sure. In that case, let’s take a bet!
As more thoughts and theories whizzed through his mind, Wein quickly made his decision.
“Raklum!” Wein yelled. “I’m leaving this area up to you! The two of us will hightail it out of here!”
“Understood! Take guards with you!”
“No need! Give these guys all you’ve got! If you give us too many of your men, they’ll crush you here and come after us!”
“But, Your Highness, that means…!”
“It’s fine! Ninym, take the driver’s seat! But don’t move forward! I’m sure they’ve set a trap!”
Closed in on both sides, it would be hard to turn the carriage back around. To escape, they would have to move forward, but Wein instinctively knew a trap lay ahead.
“Then, which way?!” Ninym shouted back.
Wein yelled his answer.
Finally, Ninym and Raklum realized his goal. Wein pulled out one of the lodged spears and busted open the passenger door as he held it in one hand.
“Listen up, everyone!” he boomed in a voice unmatched by Raklum’s.
Friend and foe alike took notice of Wein.
“Wein Salema Arbalest is right here!” he shouted, spear in hand.
Everyone took a moment to consider his words. Meanwhile, Wein looked around him and identified the most likely candidates from their battle positions. Among the possibilities, he caught sight of one who had come to his senses and was issuing orders to those around him.
That must be the commander !
Wein aimed the spear, hurling it at the authoritative man. The bandit noticed and twisted his body instantly but still failed to dodge in time. The spearhead ripped through his leg.
“Now, Ninym!”
“Right!”
At Wein’s command, Ninym drove the carriage ahead. Blowing past both enemies and allies, she tried to race out of this unexpected battlefield. They were not heading southwest—but northwest.
“ After them!” shouted the man with the torn leg.
But the bandits couldn’t respond fast enough. After all, chasing after Wein meant turning their backs to the soldiers of Natra, which would leave them vulnerable to further attack. But they couldn’t help but feel they were letting the target get away—making them unfocused. The Natran soldiers weren’t about to let this chance pass them by. As he left the scene, Wein saw the tide of battle immediately shift in their favor.
Good to see they’re stuck in place. But now I’ve got to deal with—
Wein saw a forest come into view on the path ahead. There, a new group jumped out at them.
I knew it! A cavalry unit… Dammit! This doesn’t look good!
There appeared to be four horsemen hidden in the forest. Wein clicked his tongue and looked over his shoulder.
“Ninym, full speed! They’re catching up!”
“If I do that in this terrain, we’ll break the carriage!”
“It’s fine! Just go!”
“For crying out loud.” Ninym groaned, speeding up the horses.
But the four horsemen doggedly closed in. Wein looked forward for just a moment. The terrain sloped gently, and the sway of the carriage became less unstable as they approached. Wein threw the other spear that had been lodged in the carriage frame.
It skimmed past the enemy horses and embedded itself in the ground.
“Well, yeah, I guess I knew that wouldn’t work— Whoa!”
Seeing the enemy ready their bows to retaliate, Wein ducked his head back into the carriage. Arrows struck seconds later.
“Wein, are you okay?!”
“My wallet isn’t, thanks to the repairs this carriage is gonna need!”
“That ship sank a long time ago!”
During this quick banter, they heard a strange noise from below. Before they had a chance to think about it too deeply, the carriage was thrown completely off-balance: The axle snapped, and the wheels went flying.
“Crap…!”
The carriage toppled sideways, and the horses tumbled as they were dragged along with it. Wein held on to the cabin wall, enduring the impacts as best as he could while he was thrown around helplessly.
When the carriage finally came to a halt, he crawled out in a scramble.
“Wein!” Ninym ran over and grabbed his hand. She must have immediately leaped off the coachman’s seat to safety. But before either had time to celebrate their good fortune, they saw the cavalrymen closing in on them from behind.
“Wein, I’ll buy you—” Before she could say “time,” Wein put a finger to Ninym’s lips.
“No need for that. Watch.”
Arrows rained down on the four pursuing horsemen. Ninym whipped around to find a dozen soldiers on top of a hill.
“That’s…”
“You got it.”
The horsemen fell in moments. As they watched the cavalry get mopped up, several soldiers on horseback came from the top of the hill and approached Wein.
Ninym stepped in front of Wein with open hostility, but he held her back.
“…Have you two any injuries?”
“As you can see, we’re just fine. All thanks to you. We owe you one.”
“It is enough that you two are safe… That said, it is obvious that you are of noble bearing. Might I ask your name? What business would you have here?”
Wein nodded. “I am the crown prince of Natra, Wein Salema Arbalest.”
The soldiers were all shocked. Wein turned to them with a bright smile.
“I came here to meet the commander of the Liberation Front, Prince Helmut. Show me to him.”
“…I see, Wein. You knew those bandits were part of Cavarin’s army.”
“That’s right. To be fair, I couldn’t really be certain.”
Wein and Ninym spoke in a stony room.
“That forest was to the southwest… In other words, a zone under Cavarin’s influence. They were trying to herd us there, which meant it couldn’t be the Remnant Army.”
“So you intentionally turned the carriage toward the Remnant Army to save us. What a risky move.”
“It was the lesser evil. And see? Now we’ve been welcomed in.”
“Welcomed, huh…?” Ninym grumbled as she glanced about the room.
After learning about Wein’s identity, the soldiers had hastily consulted with one another. In the end, they decided to oblige his request and take him to Prince Helmut, bringing them to a room of this mountain fortress. Based on its appearance, it was apparent that this was an old fortress, even though it had been repaired.
It was as though they had taken an abandoned stronghold and breathed new life into it.
This current room seemed to be mainly used for storage. The furnishings were minimal, and there were traces of a rushed cleaning job. They could smell the lingering dust. With soldiers stationed outside the door, they were essentially under house arrest.
Many nobles would have been outraged by this treatment, but Wein remained calm. The Remnant Army was in the middle of an ongoing dispute with Cavarin. They had to be short on accommodations and staff. The crown prince of a neighboring nation kind of just fell into their laps. They didn’t have the time or energy to prepare a grand welcome even if they wanted to.
“It’s fortunate they were considerate enough to ready a room for us. It means they’re not about to cut us down.”
“You never know. What if they’re discussing ways to behead us as we speak?”
“Then I’ll persuade them to stop before the blade falls. I’m more worried about Raklum and the others.”
“If the enemy is after you, I doubt they’re concerned about annihilating your guards. I’m willing to bet they withdrew.”
“No, I’m more worried about whether Raklum went crazy with guilt after fending off the enemy.”
“…Let’s get in touch as soon as possible.”
“Yeah…”
An odd look settled across their faces.
Then a knock came at the door.
“Pardon me.”
The door opened, and a man stood before them.
Wein’s eyes widened in recognition. “…To think we’d reunite here.”
A short, small build. A round figure. Wein knew this person.
“Fate is a funny thing. Isn’t it, Sir Jiva?”
“Yes, Prince Regent.”
And with that, Jiva bowed deeply.
Around the time Wein had usurped the gold mine, a diplomat had been sent from Marden. That man was known as Jiva. Though this diplomat had failed in his negotiations, his skills as a negotiator had given Wein more than enough reason to groan.
Guided by that very same man, Wein and Ninym now walked through the hallway of the fortress.
“But I have to admit I’m surprised that you joined the Liberation Front.”
Wein was careful with his word choice to avoid saying Remnant Army.
He went on. “Trust me when I say that I’m glad you’re okay more than anything else. I heard through the grapevine that there had been casualties when Marden’s royal capital was attacked by Cavarin.”
“That means everything to me, Crown Prince. Fortunately… Well, that’s not the right word. I was saved only because the soldiers of Cavarin went straight for the palace. I was dismissed from my post after failing to conclude a successful deal, waiting to be punished at my personal residence.”
“I see…”
As the perpetrator of Jiva’s failure, this was a tricky topic for Wein. He quickly switched to safer waters.
“It seems that Cavarin has allowed most government officials to serve the palace. Couldn’t you have done the same?”
“I am Marden born and bred. I will burn before serving those who brutalized my nation and the royal family.”
Oh yeah, he’s that kind of guy, Wein remembered.
Jiva went on. “I am surprised, too. When I heard that the prince regent of Natra had been attacked by bandits and requested an audience with Prince Helmut, I thought it was a ploy devised by Cavarin.”
“That’s no shocker. I would have been suspicious, too. I’m glad you were here, Sir Jiva. You know me.”
“I am pleased to see that no misunderstandings have arisen between us.” Jiva flashed him a shrewd look. “I have great respect for you as a person. But you mustn’t forget that I serve the royal family of Marden and Prince Helmut.”
“Of course. That’s what makes a loyal subject.”
“Oh, please, Your Highness… Well then, we’re here.”
Before them was a conspicuously large door. Jiva rapped his knuckles on it.
“Prince Helmut, I am here with our two visitors.”
The door opened with a rusty creak to reveal a room that must have been normally used for war councils. Among the several soldiers awaiting them was one eccentric-looking man.
“…So you’re the crown prince of Natra,” said a muffled voice.
It was muted for an obvious reason. The speaker wore a full suit of armor indoors.
“I am Helmut, the second prince of the Marden Kingdom.”
Which meant Wein was going to have to negotiate with this armored man. Even Wein was thrown by this whole situation.
What the heck is going on…?
Helmut’s face was covered with a metal helmet—save for narrow slits for him to see and breathe out of. Even Wein wouldn’t be able to discern his character through those openings alone.
“It is an honor to meet you, Prince Helmut.”
It didn’t matter what was going on. Prince Helmut had just introduced himself, which meant Wein had to return the gesture in kind. Wein bowed.
“I believe you already know that I’m Wein Salema Arbalest, the crown prince of Natra. There are a number of topics I wish to discuss with you, but first, I want to express my thanks. Your Liberation Front saved me from a life-or-death situation. And for that, I am grateful.”
“Don’t mention it. As the crown prince of Marden, it is my duty to suppress bandits. In fact, we should be criticized for our own ineptitude—allowing them to run free and thrive out there.”
“Prince Helmut, that is not…” Jiva hurriedly tried to interject, but Helmut silenced him with a single hand.
As Helmut sat down, Wein sat in a chair across the desk.
“So is that all you wanted to say?” Helmut asked.
“There is one more thing… Why do you wear armor indoors?”
“…As the royal capital fell, I was temporarily captured by the Cavarin army. They burned my face.” Helmut stroked his helmet with a finger in his gauntlet. “In that moment, I made a vow to God. I was a member of the royal family and allowed the capital to fall. To atone for my sins and fulfill my royal duty to revive Marden, I vowed to never show myself before others until the capital is restored.”
“…My, that’s certainly something,” replied Wein, casting a glance at Ninym standing at attention next to him.
Whaddaya think? he asked with his eyes.
Super-shady, she wordlessly replied.
Got that right.
He wore armor to hide his burn scars and as a reminder to himself and his allies. It checked out logically. But Wein and Ninym couldn’t help but feel like he was really playing it up.
Could he be a body double? This probably isn’t the right time to press the issue.
Wein and Ninym were completely defenseless, surrounded by armed soliders. They both had concealed weapons, but the chances of them battling their way through the situation was basically a coin toss. If they added a successful escape into the equation, those chances grew even lower.
Guess we’ll just roll with it.
It didn’t matter to Wein if this was the real Helmut or a double. The Liberation Front interacted with him as though he were Helmut and obeyed his orders. That was what mattered.
“It appears that I have asked an uncouth question. Forgive me, Prince Helmut.”
“Think nothing of it. Why don’t we get to the heart of the matter?” Helmut was starting to get more intimidating.
The verbal war between the princes was about to begin. All present held their breath.
“Prince Wein, please tell me why you’ve come here.”
That had to be the meat of the conversation.
Jiva thought as he listened in.
We never received any word that they wished to discuss anything with us… It’s obvious they were trying to cross the country in secret. Plus, we have information that an emissary from Cavarin entered Natra’s capital…
The Remnant Army realized Natra was trying to join together with Cavarin.
Ninym was having some thoughts of her own.
Regardless of what they know, we can’t be honest about our intentions. That will naturally set them against us… From the Remnant Army’s point of view, a relationship between Natra and Cavarin would spell out their demise.
The subject was unavoidable, but there would probably be blood if they failed to carefully sidestep it.
How would Wein answer?
Everyone looked on with bated breath.
“I am on my way to attend the Festival of the Spirit in Cavarin’s royal capital,” he replied.
Chatter broke out around them.
Does this person hesitate at anything—?! Jiva couldn’t hold back the shiver that went down his spine.
At this rate… We should probably ready ourselves.
Ninym gently lowered her center of gravity in preparation to move at any time. The only ones who remained still were Wein and Helmut.
Helmut had his face covered.
Wein was flashing a bold smile as he added fuel to the fire. No one else in this situation would have been able to keep such a brave face.
“…Do you understand what you are saying? If you wish to take it back, now is the time, Prince Wein.”
“I only speak the truth. What have I said that I should take back?”
“In that case—” Helmut reached for the sword at his side. “There is no other choice but for you to die here.”
The air froze over. Helmut wasn’t the only one tightly gripping his weapon; the guards stood ready with theirs as well. Ninym and Jiva had adopted nervous looks—but Wein started to chuckle, laughing loudly enough to catch them all off guard.
“…What’s so funny?”
“Ah, sorry. That was rude of me. I have one question: What do you think would happen if you killed me here?”
“I’d prevent an alliance between Cavarin and Natra.”
“And?” Wein’s eyes sparkled terribly. “Do you honestly think the Liberation Front can beat Cavarin that way?”
It was the guards who flared up in anger.
“H-how dare you!”
“Are you suggesting we’d lose against them?!”
A chorus of shouts started to form, but Helmut only had one thing to say. “Silence.”
That was all it took to hush the guards. They obeyed not out of fear but loyalty. Wein admired his leadership.
“…Why would we ever lose?”
“It’s simple. Cavarin can mobilize over twenty thousand soldiers. How many do you have in the Liberation Front? Even a generous estimate would put your numbers around two or three thousand.”
Natra had investigated the Remnant Army. There was no questioning the count.
Wein went on. “Last year, Cavarin was quiet as they settled into their newly occupied territory and holed up for the coming winter, but this year, there’s no denying that they’re ready to crush you. Does the Liberation Front have a plan to stop them?”
“……”
“Let’s say you killed me. It might buy you some time. But you should only buy time when you know you’ll come out stronger by the end of it. As more time passes, things will only get worse for the Liberation Front.”
He deliberately didn’t say it, but Wein saw the late King Fyshtarre’s government missteps as a liability for Helmut.
It wasn’t as though Cavarin was particularly good at governing their occupied territories. But foreign occupation still offered the Marden citizens respite from Fyshtarre’s mismanagement.
If it were me, I would have aimed to recapture the royal capital before winter rolled in, even if the chances were slim.
Before passions cooled. Before wounds had time to heal. Before the people could get a taste of peace.
They should have screamed about Cavarin’s atrocities, incited the people, and fought with all they had.
But that wasn’t what happened. Wein wasn’t sure why, but as a result, the Remnant Army had missed out on their chance to take back the capital.
“…In other words, you think we’re already done for. You think we should just let you go,” barked Helmut in anger. His hand reached for the hilt of his sword again, but unlike the earlier threat, he clearly intended to go for the kill.
Wein’s smile grew all the more arrogant rather than atoning for his mistakes.
“Far from it. I’d like to offer a more constructive proposal.”
“A proposal…?”
“Indeed,” Wein prefaced. “Prince Helmut, have you never considered sending people with me to Cavarin?”
Confusion spread. Their reactions went beyond surprise. Seeing his opening, Wein continued.
“My delegation may have been attacked by bandits, but I know it was the work of Cavarin.”
“…I do not see how you could come to this conclusion. What reason would Cavarin have to do that?”
“I’m making this proposal because I don’t know,” Wein admitted. “But I have every intention of going to Cavarin. Depending on the circumstances, making an alliance with the Liberation Front can be very advantageous for me. If that’s the case, wouldn’t it save us time to have people from the Liberation Front on the inside?”
Wein pressed further.
“The Holy Elites will gather in their royal capital this year. Security will be tight, but as a member of the delegation, you’ll be able to enter with no problem. This gives you the opportunity to make contact with them.”
“Hmph…”
All the other Western nations had been silent about Cavarin’s surprise attack on Marden. Since it was a country ruled by a member of the Holy Elite, denouncing them was tricky, diplomatically speaking. However, what if criticism was leveled at them by another Holy Elite of the same rank? There was no way all of them agreed with Cavarin’s methods. If they could somehow show the Holy Elites that there was merit in opposing Cavarin, there was a chance to gain supporters.
…They’re frightening, terrifying people.
Listening to the princes’ conversation nearby, Jiva couldn’t help but feel impressed. As things stood, Wein was in enemy territory—yet he had boldly entered negotiations without showing a trace of fear and now held the rapt attention of everyone present. He had complete control over the conversation.
The plan itself isn’t necessarily a bad one. The key is whether these negotiations will lead to an alliance with Natra.
As Wein had pointed out, the Liberation Front was in a tight spot: limited resources, dwindling personnel, and public sentiment that was only growing more distant… Failure wasn’t far off. To prevent that, they needed the aid of other nations, but winter had come and gone without any support materializing.
That was where the crown prince of Natra had come in with his sudden proposal. It was true that Wein was doing all the talking, but he was voicing his suspicions of Cavarin and pointing out the possibility of an alliance—even though Marden had nothing to offer.
He doesn’t respond to threats or intimidation tactics. Holding him hostage will only make his people angry. That’s out of the question. Your Highness should accept his proposal here to deepen ties… Jiva’s eyes signaled his armored master.
“I admit your proposal is worth consideration,” Helmut started.
“Well, then—”
“However,” Helmut interrupted, “I have some concerns. I wonder if this is all a lie that you concocted so you can escape. I wonder if I should actually believe you.”
Jiva was surprised at first, but then he thought it over. There was a point of compromise. Helmut was bargaining to see if he could get anything more out of this.
“Of all the things to say,” Wein replied.
His response was beyond the imagination of everyone in the room.
“Isn’t that exactly why you should go for it?”
“What are you trying to say…?”
“Listen, Prince Helmut, this all comes down to trust. Trust only has value because there’s the potential of betrayal. It could all be a lie. You could get tricked. But overcoming your fears to trust… That’s how to reach someone’s heart.” Wein grinned. “Prince Helmut, I’ll ask again… Are you sure you can’t trust me?”
It was a complete one-eighty.
Nothing for Marden to offer? That just wasn’t true.
Wein was asking Helmut to show him what he was worth—in return for his help.
Helmut had come to an answer.
“…Very well. I shall believe in you, Prince Wein.”
“You’ll soon see you’ve made the right choice, Prince Helmut.”
The two shook hands, and the meeting came to a temporary conclusion.
“Looks like we got out of that somehow,” Wein muttered, leaning in his chair, back in the other room.
“I was so scared he would draw his sword,” Ninym replied, standing next to him. “And? How much of that did you actually mean?”
“Basically, all of it. I think Cavarin is up to something fishy, and I figured there was a possibility of teaming up with the Remnant Army. Well, we won’t know how things will play out until we get there.”
“…Let’s say you ally with the Remnant Army. Do you think you can win against Cavarin?”
“We’ll think about that after—if—we actually team up.”
A knock at the door. “Pardon me, Prince Regent. We contacted your delegation not long ago, and—”
“Your Highness!”
As Jiva opened the door, Raklum pushed him aside. “I’m terribly sorry that I’m late! I am beyond overjoyed to know you are safe!”
“I’m glad to see you’re looking well yourself.”
It all happened so fast. The Remnant Army must have already known the location of the delegation. But based on Jiva’s expression, it would seem he hadn’t expected Raklum to barge in.
“I’ll save the particulars for later. How are the troops?”
“Right! After we became separated, the bandits withdrew, and we suffered minor casualties. We are now on standby at the arranged campsite. I sent word to General Hagal, and he will soon be dispatching soldiers to scout the area and resupply us,” reported Raklum.
Wein nodded in satisfaction. “Your performance was admirable. I have no intention of blaming you for that attack. I’m still counting on you to command the others.”
“Understood! I will do everything in my power to ensure this never happens again!”
“You might have already heard, but members of the Liberation Front will be joining our party. As for how many…” Wein glanced at Jiva, who stood behind Raklum.
“We have chosen to send five,” Jiva replied. “Besides the one who shall be their representative, all have battle experience.”
“Well, you heard the man. Until you arrive at the capital of Cavarin, those four will also be under your command. Is that okay with you, Jiva?”
“Yes, of course.” Jiva nodded. “Prince Regent, I have called our representative for introductions. I hope you do not mind.”
“Oh yeah. Sure, no problem.”
Jiva moved aside as someone appeared from the other side of the doorway.
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Prince Wein. My name is Zeno,” called out the representative who was about Wein’s age.
The boy had androgynous features. There was an elegance in his movements that one might expect of a representative.
“This is my nephew. Though he is young and inexperienced, he is a master of etiquette. I promise he will not cause trouble for your entourage—” rambled Jiva.
Wein whispered to Ninym, “…This is bad.”
“What?”
“This Zeno guy is hotter than me.”
“Uh-huh.”
“…Did you have to agree right then?!”
“How should I know? Anyway, Wein… This person might be…”
“Yeah?”
Something felt off. Wein took a closer look at Zeno.
Zeno seemed to get more attractive by the second. He was svelte. Even though he carried a sword, he didn’t seem tough. In fact, if he donned a dress, he’d definitely be mistaken for a girl—
…Hey, wait! He is a girl! Wein was close to dribbling spittle.
The clothes and mannerisms did a good job of hiding it, but by looking very, very carefully, he could see that Zeno was unmistakably a girl.
“Um… Sir Jiva.”
“Yes?”
“My eyes may be playing tricks on me, but this boy—”
“Prince Regent,” Jiva cut him off curtly. “Our Liberation Front is terribly short on people.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Which leaves us with very few options for skilled diplomats who are unlikely to raise alarm bells when you reach Cavarin.”
“Also true.”
“And men have the upper hand when meeting the most influential people in the West.”
“No objections here.”
“In conclusion, Zeno is my nephew.”
“R-right on…” Wein looked at Zeno. “Are you okay with that?”
“Of course, Prince Regent. If that is to be my role, I shall accomplish any duty required of me.”
With a determined gaze, Zeno nodded. If that was the case, Wein had no more to say.
I don’t get the impression that this is just an elaborate trap to keep an eye on me. Plus, it’s true that they’re short on personnel.
Wein remembered Ninym’s earlier question: whether they could actually defeat Cavarin by joining with the Remnant Army.
Wein answered with some uncertainty. “Got it. Well then, let’s meet up with our delegation.”
And thus, Wein brought along Zeno as the head of the dispatched Remnant Army unit and once again set off for the capital of Cavarin.