Sortie (3)

The vast hall lay quiet.

The courier who had delivered his report scarcely dared to breathe.

“A devils’ castle?”

Reichardt’s voice was low and even.

“Yes. After torrential rains caused a landslide on Mount Kaip, a black castle suddenly appeared at the summit. From what our officers could assess, its look and traits were similar to the castle that had stood in Tessen’s western forest.”

The courier answered with careful deference.

“A scout from the first village sighted a Kakan, and they’ve appeared on the grassland and desert roads as well?”

“Yes. Our officers suspect the influence now reaches as far as the Kaip range. Up through last night, only Kakans had shown themselves. We anticipate the others will appear soon.”

He finished and again held his breath.

Everyone in the hall fell into thought—Reichardt, Henrik, Roderick, Juan, and Jamie alike held their tongues.

After a long silence, Reichardt glanced to his side.

“Roderick.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

Stepping forward, Roderick’s eyes held a spark of expectation.

“How long to secure the transfer of ownership of Mount Kaip and the nearby self-governing rights?”

“I’ll have a dispatch sent by this evening.”

Roderick delivered a lofty answer in a sober tone.

“After serving as my aide this long, it’s time you had a title.”

At Reichardt’s words, Roderick laughed cheerfully.

“I would like a countship, Your Grace.”

The courier, who had come to bring ill news, watched the room’s mood and kept his head down.

And he was reporting to the Grand Duke of Tessen.

At word of a courier’s arrival, His Grace had come alone without even fixing his attire.

The courier had not expected such confident words to ring through the hall.

He’d heard the Tessen main keep wasn’t what it used to be— rumors said they’d carried out some absurd “extermination of monsters” and actually succeeded, but he hadn’t believed it.

That was impossible.

…Was it true?

Sensing the easy assurance in the room, he dared to hope that the unbelievable might in fact be real.

“I’ll depart for Command at once.”

Roderick flicked a look to the courier—come along—and strode out.

He moved as lightly as if heading out for a stroll.

“Good work.”

Reichardt dismissed him without ceremony.

It hardly looked like a man sending his close aide into a hell where death raged.

“I’ll report back shortly.”

Roderick observed the forms but didn’t seem to expect a reply, and left the hall.

Bewildered, the courier followed the grand duke’s aide.

“Juan.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“How long to muster the troops who took part in the purification of East Noah among those still in the main keep?”

Juan thought for a moment at the question.

“Before noon, Your Grace.”

Reichardt nodded.

“Henrik, make the preparations. We march as soon as we hear from Roderick. I’m going to request reinforcements.”

His back was almost jaunty as he climbed the stairs.

Anyone else might have thought he was off on a date.

He truly was going to request reinforcements— reinforcements more powerful than hundreds of thousands of soldiers.

He was on his way to ask Alicia Rain.

Alicia, after rolling around in bed a while, received an invitation to the Grand Duke of Tessen’s audience chamber.

“Three hours from now. Please come to the audience room.”

The inviter was Reichardt.

And the one who delivered the message that he invited her—to the audience chamber—was also Reichardt.

You could just tell me now.

He left without giving her a chance to reply.

Alicia hauled her idle body up and made ready to go.

She took over an hour to dress to the nines.

For the first time in a while, she hung on heavy, splendid jewels.

She arrived thirty minutes ahead of the appointed time—no host.

Her inviter appeared having used every last minute of the three hours he’d named.

“…”

Entering the audience chamber, Reichardt shone from head to toe.

Rain fell beyond the windows, yet his face was bright as if sunbeams were pouring down on it.

“Alicia.”

Reichardt went and took the upper seat.

Though the chamber was arranged so that host and guest sat at equal height, the upper seat was upper seat: the backdrop was lavish.

At times like this, he was every inch a prince of the blood.

“Yes, Your Grace.”

Alicia let the distance implied by the upper seat show in her form of address.

“Do you happen to need a mountain?”

Decked out like a gilded ceiling fresco, Reichardt spoke like a speculator hawking a claim.

“A mountain?”

Alicia felt nonplussed, but she did not spoil the occasion.

“You don’t have an estate in the north.”

For a royal like Reichardt, it was natural to have holdings across the continent.

But even a high noble would wager a whole lifetime to increase their lands by a single fief.

Royals led such extravagant lives you had to spell these things out for them one by one.

“Yes…”

She meant to be kind, but the mood wasn’t right; she just answered.

“Lady Alicia—Countess of Echeveria, Lady of Luderne, Mistress of Lilizet—I make you this proposal. On the honor of the Grand Duke of Tessen, if you will send me reinforcements, I will cede to you the ownership of Mount Kaip. Will you send them?”

Smiling, Reichardt—ornamented like a golden ceiling—made his offer.

Alicia’s mind filled with questions.

To begin with, Mount Kaip belonged neither to the Rune Empire nor to Tessen.

It lay beyond the border; international dispute was guaranteed.

Even if Mount Kaip became the Grand Duke’s property, his power derived from the Empire— specifically, the Emperor.

Could the Grand Duke freely cede a contested territory without imperial leave?

Puzzlement upon puzzlement.

But the moment Reichardt smiled and came closer, Alicia found herself answering without thinking.

“Of course.”

Only after she spoke did she remember she had no troops to send as “reinforcements.”

‘I don’t have private soldiers.’

She was about to say so when Reichardt came to her side.

“A devils’ castle has appeared on Mount Kaip. A Kakan surfaced twelve hours ago; I expect Gottlans to show themselves next.”

He wiped away the smile and rattled off his report.

“What?”

Alicia blinked.

“I have the forces standing by. We plan to march this evening. At full speed, it’s two hours by horse from here to the western border. The landslide on Mount Kaip has severed almost every man-made path. What should we do next, Commander-in-Chief?”

He had successfully recruited reinforcements—and now raised her to Commander-in-Chief.

“Let’s ride the Lusa.”

The new commander proposed something devastating.

“…”

Reichardt couldn’t hide his surprise.

It was as though the gentle Lusa frightened him.

“If we ride Lusa, we can reach the border in an hour. Limit Lusa riders to me, you, and the guard. Split the soldiers into Kakan, Gottlan, and Eto units. Put the Kakan unit on point and the Gottlan unit at the very rear. If a main-class monster appears, that unit forms the front and the others back them—something like that.”

Alicia spoke briskly, cleanly.

“…How do we catch a Lusa?”

Reichardt asked, troubled.

Smiling, Alicia stood, went to the window, and opened it.

She cupped her hands to her mouth and let out a call.

The earth gave a faint tremor.

If no one else, Reichardt felt and heard it plain as day.

He moved to the window.

A Lusa—huge-bodied—came pounding up outside.

Reichardt shot Alicia a sidelong look.

“…”

Why haven’t we been riding them until now?

His face all but said it.

“If we go around on Lusa, people will think we’re devils. They look like they came straight out of hell—so big and scary. Even their horns are about as tall as a person.”

Alicia beamed; the touch of shyness on her face was striking.

Mount Kaip consisted of sixteen principal peaks and countless subsidiary ridges.

The places people made their villages were at the mountain’s frayed edges.

The mountain folk did not live deep in the range; each community nested against a famed subpeak.

The highest northern summit of Kaip was called Yung.

On the day a black castle thrust up upon that lofty Yung, storm and flood wiped out the many paths and ridges people had worn between the peaks.

In just two days, Mount Kaip became hell.

Not one of the eight mountain villages kept its base standing.

People stuffed whatever they could grab into bundles and fled.

Two days ago, simply getting beyond the mountain hamlets had bought a breath of relief; by the moment, things worsened.

Devils that roamed Mount Kaip as their home ground attacked fleeing villagers at random.

“Mother, I can’t walk anymore.”

The boy pleaded, on the verge of tears.

“Hush.”

For Silbana to have made it this far bordered on a miracle.

She walked the mountain path holding the hand of her six-year-old son and carrying her two-year-old daughter on her back.

Silbana set out only after the first groups had already gone.

Her husband, who had gone hunting when the rain stopped, didn’t come back.

No word at all.

She prepared to leave while waiting for him to return.

The villagers urged her again and again to come with them before they left, but she couldn’t.

Above all, she doubted she could manage the children alone.

Perhaps because their house stood apart from the village, no monsters came as far as her door.

When her father arrived and urged her, she had no choice but to go.

They started with two mountain goats and several bundles.

Goats were perfect for the mountain paths, but after half a day’s travel, they refused to take another step.

Grateful even for that, the family left them at the mouth of the rocky valley leading toward the desert.

They couldn’t carry people, but the goats might make it down the rock-choked gorge alone.

Her father went ahead, checking the safety of the route.

The accident came early in the morning.

From ahead, he screamed—run!—and told Silbana to flee.

Terrified, he shouted and sprinted away from where Silbana stood.

That was the last of the family.

Silbana wiped her tears and forced herself to think fast.

The monsters didn’t know human speech.

But like other predators, they had sharp ears and keen noses.

They were far larger than any beasts she knew, and moved faster despite their mass.

“Remember what Mother said? No making a sound. We’ll go even slower.”

Silbana and the children were caked in mud from head to toe.

There was no other way to smother their scent.

She fed her son only the smallest meals and taught him to eat without a sound.

Slowly or not, they did not stop in one place; they kept moving.

The boy wanted to be held or carried like his little sister, but he knew he couldn’t.

He nodded and started walking again.

Silbana patted her brave child and moved her feet.

But she knew they were at the limit.

Their food was gone; their strength, spent.

And on the narrow path, a giant devil appeared.

“No…”

Silbana pulled her son tight into her arms.

She drew his dirt-smeared face close, unwilling to leave a monster as his last memory.