Mushoku Tensei (LN) - Volume 23 - Chapter 9

Chapter 9:

A North God, a Mercenary, and More…

AFTER PARTING WITH Sara and her party, we decided to look for the missionary knight we had encountered earlier in our trip. North God Kalman may no longer be in this town, but we did have information indicating that someone resembling Geese was. I doubted it was him. Nonetheless, following up on the lead could nab us some valuable information. 

There was also the possibility it was a trap to lure me in. Though I gotta say, I don’t see Geese laying a trap like this. It was a total coincidence we came across this information, so it’d be pretty tenuous to build a plan around that. 

I wouldn’t expect him to try something funny when the North God already had a high chance of being one of the Man-God’s disciples, meaning I was braced and ready for a potential fight. No, he’d wait for a moment when I was more relaxed. He’d want me to have my guard down before coming at me.

Nah, I told myself, that’s more the Man-God’s style than Geese’s.

Whatever the case, the Missionary Knights here in Hammerpolka should’ve already apprehended the individual who supposedly resembled (or was) Geese. Our first order of business was to find them. The problem was I had no idea where their offices were.

I sure screwed up there. I should’ve asked where I could meet up with them when I arrived. Should I just look for something that resembles an office? Or ask a passerby to see if anyone else knows?

“I already told ya, I’m not sellin’ out my pals.”

As we wandered the streets, I happened to overhear a voice up ahead. It was a low, almost bestial growl, full of resolve. I swear I’ve heard this voice somewhere before…

“I have no intention of paying you. In the name of Millis, I am demanding you hand this demon over,” echoed another voice, righteous and self-assured.

As I got closer, I realized there were two groups squared off on either side of the street, glowering at one another. One side, I assumed, was a group of mercenaries. There was no uniformity in their armor or weapons, with each person outfitted according to their own personal style. On the other side, everyone was clad in the same silver armor, engraved with the Millis emblem. The knights had only ten people. The mercenary band outnumbered them two to one.

In spite of this, the Missionary Knights showed no intention of backing down. I figured part of that was their unwavering confidence in their own strength. Moreover, they had absolute faith in the righteousness of their cause.

“Yeah? Then let me spell it out for ya a different way: I don’t backstab my pals.”

Standing on the side of the mercenaries was a man who looked like a regular street thug who’d slid into adulthood without any change in lifestyle. He had sharp, narrowed eyes and a familiar face. It looked older than I remembered. He’d even grown a mustache, too.

“Mister Soldat!” I cried as the realization hit me.

Yes, this was most definitely Soldat Heckler. Hard to believe that after running into Sara, I would find another familiar face. I owed him a heck of a lot. When my ED problem first reared its head, he’d done a lot to look after me. It sure brought back memories, seeing him and Sara.

“Hm?” Soldat grunted at me, narrowing his eyes. “Who’re…hey, hold it. I recognize that face.”

“It’s been a while,” I said.

“Yeah. But I’m busy, kid. Save it for later.” With that, he turned his attention back toward the Missionary Knights.

Not satisfied at being waved off, I pressed him, “Uh, explain what’s going on?” 

“Hm? These guys just suddenly showed up outta nowhere, demandin’ we hand one of our own over. Even though we ain’t done nothin’!”

I nodded thoughtfully. “So that’s it. If you haven’t done anything, what is the issue with handing him over? The Missionary Knights aren’t going to threaten anybody without a good reason.”

“Ya dummy. Course they would. These are Millis’s Missionary Knights, and they want us to hand over a demon. Even if they don’t kill him, I wouldn’t put it past ’em to take one or two of his eyes.”

Ah, so that’s what’s going on. These Missionary Knights were here under my orders then, and the other side was refusing to abide by their demands. Soldat did kinda have a point. If a group of demon expulsionists dragged off their comrade, he might not come back in one piece.

Perhaps I’d been too hasty. It hadn’t even occurred to me—or maybe it had crossed my mind, but I’d thought I didn’t really mind if they gave Geese a beatdown.

I never imagined it would be one of Soldat’s companions, though. Hmm… I guess if Soldat and Geese are in cahoots, I’ll have to face him as well. I didn’t like that idea.

“Who’s the demon they’re trying to take?” I asked.

“Him, over there.” Soldat motioned by jerking his chin. I looked, and there was a demon there with the face of a monkey.

“What the hell do you want?” the man in question snarled at me.

Nah, that’s not him. Their faces are similar, but this guy’s way more ripped than Geese. He was more of a warrior than a swordsman. He resembled Goliade way more than Geese.

Given the tense situation, I could see some fear in the man’s eyes. He knew they were up against the Missionary Knights, but he stood his ground with a weapon in hand, ready to fight. He was the exact opposite of Geese in every way; Geese was lanky and unassuming, the type to flee at the first hint of danger. This guy was a gorilla. Geese was more of a chimpanzee.

I wonder if they’re from the same tribe. Although, pretty sure Geese is supposedly the only surviving member of the Nuka Tribe.

“You,” I said, “what’s your name and tribe?”

“I’m Glanze of the Rokka Tribe! And I ain’t afraid just ’cause you guys are the Missionary Knights!”

Dude, don’t kid yourself. You’re so terrified your knees are knocking together. Never mind, it’ll be okay. We’ll clear all this up in a second.

“And you have no affiliation with Geese of the Nuka Tribe?”

Glanze pulled a face. “Geese? Well, yeah, guess I did used to be in a party with the guy, but… Hold it. Don’t tell me he’s gone and started crap again?! I’m so sick of this! Just ’cause the two of us look alike, how come I gotta be mistaken for him all the time?! The Rokka Tribe’s not even a demon tribe! It’s a beast tribe!”

Well, anyway, he wasn’t Geese. If anything, he was a fellow victim of his trickery. Finding Geese here would have been too easy.

“All right, I understand. Allow me to speak to them,” I said.

“Speak to ’em?” Soldat scowled. “They ain’t the type to listen to—h-hey?!”

I turned away from him and toward the Missionary Knights, scanning their faces. Which of them was the knight I had encountered earlier during our trip? It was impossible to tell since they were all wearing helmets with drawn visors.

“Pardon me, but which of you did I meet with recently?”

“That would be me,” said one of them. “Pardon, but are you acquainted with this man?”

I nodded. “Coincidentally, yes, I am. And if I might add, the demon they have with them is not the one I am looking for.”

“He’s not?” The man seemed puzzled, as if he couldn’t comprehend how that could be possible. He was a demon, right?

Demon or beast, whatever the man is, he’s not Geese.

“He claims he’s not a demon but a beastfolk anyway. Regardless of the misunderstanding, I appreciate your assistance in this matter,” I said.

There. Problem solved! Satisfied, I pressed a fist to my chest and lowered my head to the man. He and the rest of the Missionary Knights did the same before taking their leave.

“Looks like you’ve become more charming since I last saw ya,” Soldat commented, looking a little exasperated in the wake of it all.

“Charming”? All I had really done was clean up the mess I’d gotten them into. Regardless, we had confirmed my suspicions: the man spotted in Hammerpolka was not Geese.

***

Soldat was the leader of an adventurer party called Stepped Leader, which operated under the clan Thunderbolt. Clan Thunderbolt happened to be one of the biggest adventurer clans in the entire world. It had recently ordered all of its members to gather here in Hammerpolka.

Anyone would wonder why an enormous clan like Thunderbolt was gathering here. Before going into it, however, we must first consider why such enormous clans are formed in the first place. It was pretty simple, really—mercenary companies were one of the few stable, secure business ventures in this world. Most clans were formed to provide mutual support between parties. What requests one party couldn’t complete on their own could be shared between affiliated parties. This method also presented less danger for those involved.

Thunderbolt’s founding began when three S-rank parties operating in the Three Magic Nations decided to join hands with one another to conquer a labyrinth. This venture was wildly successful, catapulting their new clan to fame. They continued to work seamlessly together, growing their numbers until they could start clearing multiple labyrinths at once.

I’d been through a labyrinth or two myself. I could say from experience that if you wanted to tackle a particularly difficult labyrinth, you’d need a highly experienced S-rank party full of warriors with trained good judgment, equipped with the best possible armor and weapons, and with backup waiting in the wings.

Having said all this, it wasn’t always possible to be perfectly prepared for those labyrinths. There weren’t enough hours in the day for each individual adventurer to carry on their regular lives while maintaining their equipment, planning their daily schedule and subsequent forays, and do all the elaborate preparations required for dungeon venturing. A party could only reasonably expect to go into labyrinths once every couple of months.

I say that, but there were those who managed to conquer labyrinths with the bare minimum: sub-par equipment, a haphazard plan, and sloppy preparations. If they were fortunate, they could even find some magic items that’d go for a good price once they returned. More frequently, however, failure meant death.

So, a question: what could a group of adventurers do to stay in optimal condition so that they could explore these difficult labyrinths and guarantee they’d make it to the depths? If you guessed form a large clan, bingo! You’re right. Many hands lighten the load.

A clan would have one party specialized in battle that would head to the lower recesses of the labyrinth. Using the information they brought back, another party would conduct a more thorough search of the upper levels, slaying any monsters they found on their path. Finally, there would be a support party in charge of planning, organizing information, money management, and maintaining the other parties’ equipment. By breaking down the task into smaller chunks, these parties could work with machine-like efficiency to clean out an entire labyrinth. Clans made all this coordination possible. That was why S-rank adventurers formed or joined these enormous clans.

However, it should be said that clans weren’t all sunshine and roses. Large-scale clans had their downsides.

The larger a clan’s family became—as it gained more and more members with specialized abilities—the higher their expenses grew. This could be defrayed by the profit of cleaning out a labyrinth, assuming they were always successful. The money earned from selling a single magic crystal found in the deepest parts of a labyrinth could, in some situations, net you enough to afford a lavish mansion in the Asura Kingdom. If they were really fortunate, they might even find some magic items along the way. A good haul could feed hundreds for an entire year.

It wasn’t a sure thing, though. They couldn’t completely clear out a labyrinth each and every time. Other clans might beat them to it, or their S-rank vanguard team might get wiped out, or they might run out of funding midway through. There were any number of reasons, really, but all of them resulted in a clan going into the red.

These were the issues that plagued any clan leader. As eager as they were to explore labyrinths, they eventually ran out of funds, and without funding, they couldn’t send their people in. A clan’s whole purpose was to provide a stable environment to earn money, and yet they would wind up plagued with financial problems themselves. An ironic problem to have, really, but that’s life. Nothing ever goes according to plan.

So, how does a large-scale clan solve this cash flow problem? The most reliable method was to have each party under their command take on requests and extract a certain percentage of the earnings for the clan’s coffers. Alternatively, they could take on other requests that required numerous parties to complete. Slaying straggler Wyrms, for instance.

There was one final option for these large-scale clans: exclusive requests from national governments or big-time merchants. The trading boats that ventured between the Demon Continent and the Millis Continent were a great example. They always had bodyguards on board with them, adventurers who’d signed exclusive contracts with the shipyards. One large-scale clan had taken all those positions in West Port and East Port themselves. The clan would rotate out members, making money for themselves through bodyguard work between missions into labyrinths.

Let’s consider Thunderbolt and their financial situation specifically. They were one of the top clans in the Northern Territories, with contracts tying them to large enterprises in each of the Three Nations and the Magicians’ Guild as well. They had a lot of connections, but that came with a lot of obligations to folks who didn’t necessarily all get along. A lot of relationships to manage. And that was its own challenge.

How did they tackle it? Putting it plainly: whenever a clan retrieved a magic item from a labyrinth, they needed to decide whether to sell it to the Magicians’ Guild or one of their merchant contacts. To avoid unnecessary friction, they limited themselves to how many wealthy patrons they contracted with and which territories they conducted labyrinth explorations in. Even so, their members continued to grow until they had over fifty parties and five hundred clan members.

The leader needed to try to balance avoiding bankruptcy while still ensuring each of his members was provided for. A cold outside assessment might suggest they disband entirely or scale back operations. However, it took courage to relinquish an army of that size once you’d assumed control of it.

The clan leader anguished over what to do. Tried everything. Nothing provided a lasting solution, so he was forced to make a call. There was only one job which would allow him to feed all five hundred of his members and keep open the possibility of future labyrinth exploration: mercenary business. It wasn’t an outlandish choice. Killing people was out of most adventurers’ wheelhouses, but adventuring had taught many of them the necessary skills, experience, and judgment to be deadly in a fight. This was what led Thunderbolt to fuse into a cross between an adventurer clan and a mercenary clan without specializing in one or the other.

There were those in the clan who withdrew their membership, unwilling to leave the Northern Territories they called home to venture all the way into the Conflict Zone. The parties at the core of Thunderbolt, however, followed their leader every step of the way. Soldat’s Stepped Leader was no exception. From the way he explained it, their days consisted of labyrinth exploration and battle.

“It really ain’t all that bad,” he said. “There’s a never-ending need for mercenaries here, and we’ve got all the funding we need. In these past couple years we’ve cleared out five whole labyrinths.”

I’d followed Soldat back to Thunderbolt’s clan room, where he filled me in on all the details, welcoming us in as if we were members ourselves. He spoke as dispassionately as ever, as if his work were a distant memory, his voice somehow simultaneously bored and curt.

Soldat continued, “But there are some guys here who really can’t hack it. Cutting down bandits that attack you on the highways and killing people for a living are two different things, see. Lot of ’em plan to scrounge up what money they can through labyrinth exploration, then retire and hightail it back home.”

None of the Stepped Leaders I remembered from my time with them remained. They’d either retired or died. Considering all they had done for me, I felt a prickle of grief.

“What about you, Mister Soldat? You’re not going to retire?” I asked.

His mouth dropped halfway open. “Huh…?” Then he snorted with laughter. “I’ve thought about it, but…the opportunity’s already passed me by. I’ll either die doing what I’m doing, or lose an arm, find myself unable to do the work any longer, and keel over in a ditch somewhere. That’s all fate’s got in store for me.”

He sounded dismissive, as if he didn’t care what happened to him, but he’d said these same sorts of things back when I palled around with him.

I stroked my chin. “Really? The truth is you feel obligated to look after the newbies. Am I wrong?”

“Oh? Look at you, hitting the bullseye like that. When you were just a brat, you’d never have noticed that kinda thing. But I guess you have gotten hitched, huh? Got a bit more confidence since you solved your downstairs problem and made yourself a kid or two, huh? That it?” Soldat demanded as he playfully wrapped his arm around my neck and ground his fist into my scalp.

“Ow, ow!”

Man, this takes me back.

“So, what brings you to this neck of the woods? This ain’t no place for a married man.”

“Yeah, well, it’ll be a long story if you want the full details, but…” I gave him a quick rundown of the events that led me here. “And so here I am, hoping to bring North God Kalman the Third into the fold. All part of a greater plan.”

“Huh, so you’re this Dragon God Orsted’s underling now. Well, you always were a cut above the rest. Guess that ain’t too surprising.” Soldat looked a little surprised at this development, but at the same time, he didn’t doubt me. “If it’s North God Kalman you’re after, there definitely was a guy who fit the bill around here a couple of years ago.”

“Oh, really? And where has he gone?”

Soldat shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine. I don’t know any more than that.”

Yeah, I figured he’d say that.

“I met with him a number of times. Strange guy. He was up there in age, but he sure had a lot of energy. He was trying to teach our younger members swordsmanship.”

“Yeah?”

“He was very precise about it all, too. You could tell it was the North God Style he was usin’, but even without a sword in his hand, he was still ridiculously strong. I figured he was some kinda big deal. Makes sense if he was the North God.”

Hm? Wait a second. Isn’t North God Kalman the Third supposed to have an unquenchable thirst for recognition? He was also supposed to be in possession of an incredible great sword which he’d received from his father. If he was hiding his name, sealing his sword away, and spending time teaching martial arts to young men… That had to be Kalman the Second and not Kalman the Third, right? What’s going on…?

On reflection, it might not be that crazy after all. Not to delve into chaos theory or anything, but many of my actions in the world had a ripple effect, changing what various other people were supposed to have been doing during this loop. It wasn’t strange to think that North God Kalman the Second had wound up here, where his son was originally supposed to be. According to Orsted, father and son had very similar fates.

“I see,” I said thoughtfully. “Thank you for the information.”

Again, we’d struck out. The same bad luck as when we’d gone to meet the Sword God. This was becoming a trend. Sure, one might argue things had gone a little bit too smoothly up until this point, but I couldn’t help feeling a little panicky after failing to fulfill my objective twice in a row. I doubted Geese’s preparations were encountering this kind of difficulty.

“Well, since it looks like we’re out of luck, I’ll be heading home,” I announced.

Soldat shook his head. “Instant roundtrip, eh? How about you stick around and take it easy? We’d welcome you here.”

“Unfortunately, I’m a busy man.”

“Makes sense, what with you being a Dragon God’s underling. Awfully distinguished now, ain’t you? I’ll be countin’ on you to hook me up once I retire from the whole adventurin’ business.”

“Oh, in that case, I actually have a whole organization under my command—Ruquag’s Mercenary Band. We’re more geared toward fulfilling miscellaneous errands for people than actual mercenary work. You’d be more than welcome to join us. In fact, you should come back with us now. No need to wait until retirement!”

Perhaps it wasn’t the best idea to invite him without consulting Aisha first, but we could surely work something out. Even if Aisha were to nix it, I could employ him somewhere else. He could join the Orsted Corporation. Our company had its eyes on the future, and we’d welcome new blood in our ranks. Soldat was tough and had a habit of looking after others. We could do with more people like him.

Alas, he wasn’t up for it.

“I know I was the one who brought it up, but I’ll have to turn ya down. I may not seem like the most respectable fella, but I’ve got men who look up to me.”

I pretty much expected he’d say something like that. This was the same guy who’d stood in the firing line to defend one of his comrades earlier today, even though the fearsome Missionary Knights themselves were bearing the rifles. He had somewhere he belonged already. Something he thought was worth protecting.

“I’ll be dependin’ on you to make good on your word if I ever get driven outta here. When that happens, I’ll probably be down one arm. So I might be totally useless to ya.”

I smiled. “Hey, so what if you are? I don’t mind. I’ll be waiting for you.”

“Keh.” Soldat gave a disinterested snort of laughter, as if he didn’t truly believe I meant it. Beneath all that bravado, though, I could sense my words meant something to him.

This dynamic brought back memories, and with them, joy.

“Well, anyhow, you sure have surprised me, bein’ all grown now when you were just some clueless brat before. I remember how you drowned yourself in so much liquor back then, I thought you’d kill yourself. Your face was a mess of tears and snot when I took you to that brothel, too.”

Uh-oh. I wish you wouldn’t bring that up.

“What’s all this about?” Eris demanded.

See? I knew she wouldn’t let that go.

“Oh, story time, is it?”

“Um, Mister Soldat, maybe we should drop this and—”

“Sure, why not. Ain’t like you’re bothered by what happened all those years ago, right? That whole saga’s a big hit with the other guys in the mercenary band,” Soldat said.

The story of my utter failure is a big hit, huh?

Eris’s brows furrowed, her frown deepening. “What saga?”

“’Bout this fella here. Dunno what they call him now, but when he was an adventurer, he introduced himself as Quagmire Rudeus. He’d smile at everyone, actin’ all formal and bein’ super polite. All that in spite of bein’ a first-rate adventurer. No exaggeration, either. He took down a Red Wyrm straggler all by himself.”

Er, I didn’t give myself that name. Or introduce myself that way. Nor did I defeat that straggler all on my own. But…I guess these kinds of stories do benefit from a little embellishment.

“Back when he was still debating what to call himself—when our Quagmire here was still nothin’ more than a little puddle—forget bein’ a charmer, he wouldn’t even hardly talk to no one. Wasn’t any smilin’ neither, almost like he’d lost the ability to form one while he was still in his mama’s womb. Nah, what he wore was this ridiculous empty grin on his face, almost like it was some cheap mask he’d found in the markets and slapped on. Craziest thing was that you could still see it in his eyes—he was lookin’ down on everyone around him, almost like he thought he was the most miserable guy in the whole world, and none of us’d ever understand.”

I kept my mouth shut as he rambled.

“Depressin’ little brat, he was. I didn’t like him.” Soldat paused there for a moment, as if he’d suddenly remembered the hostility he’d shown me back then. He glanced at me briefly, gave a short snort of laughter, then turned back to Eris. “Anyhow, that’s the kinda kid he was. Then, one day, he showed up at the bar me and the rest of Stepped Leader frequented. He started knocking back drinks almost like he was a full-fledged adult. Really got under my skin. Can’t explain exactly what it was that infuriated me so much, just didn’t like him. So I sidled up to him, figuring I’d tease him a little. The kid didn’t have the guts to take me on.”

I shot a worried glance at Eris. She was listening silently, but there was a dangerous gleam in her eyes. It wasn’t like I was expecting her to suddenly whip out her blade and cut the man down or anything, but I wouldn’t put it past her to take a swing at Soldat.

“Outta nowhere, the kid socked me in the face. He was drunk, sure, but on top of that, we’re talkin’ about a mage clocking a swordsman. I didn’t strike him back though, ’cause Quagmire here was bawlin’ like a baby. How could a respected, upstanding fella like me raise my hands against a brat who was crying and taking a wild swing? Ain’t no way.”

“Right,” Eris said, her voice a low growl.

Oh, she’s angry, isn’t she? I sure wish Soldat would leave well enough alone and stop there.

On the other hand, this story wasn’t entirely meant to mock me; by the end, Soldat was looking me in the eye. That’s why I was hopeful I could follow Soldat’s tale with a little clarification on his intent to pacify her. Assuming, of course, she didn’t clobber him midway through, which she might.

“When I asked him what it was all about, he told me this was the girl he’d been getting chummy with. Right as the two of them were about to do the deed together, he found he couldn’t get it up—girl before this one had abandoned him and left him traumatized. Pretty rich, ain’t it? Here’s the guy who’d taken down a straggler all on his own and he couldn’t perform in the bedroom.”

Eris said nothing to that, and nor did I.

“Still, I’m a big softy. I wanted to do something for Quagmire to help him recover. Oh, but just so we’re clear, I ain’t sayin’ I touched him, okay? I don’t go for other dudes… Hey, that’s a joke. You’re suppos’ta laugh at that part.”

“Ahaha! Don’t worry. You’re not my type either.” I forced a laugh and responded to him on Eris’s behalf. Meanwhile, the atmosphere around Eris herself had grown tense and oppressive. I imagined I could hear static crackling in the air.

“Movin’ on, then. So I decided I’d get him fixed up, and the two of us took off to visit a brothel. See, I figured this kinda stuff is better left up to the pros. I tossed him into a high-quality brothel and retreated to a pub, waiting for the good news. I’ve got no idea what he got up to in the brothel—or rather, what he tried to get up. Whatever happened, didn’t work. He was a broken man who’d never be able to stand again. Or at least parts of him wouldn’t.”

Ah, another punchline. You’re supposed to laugh here, Miss Eris. Come on, give us a smile. No more of that murderous glaring.

“If even the pros couldn’t fix him, I knew there was nothin’ I could do. We spent the night knocking back more ale. But we haven’t even gotten to the best part yet—just wait. See, as we were headed back, he was groping one of the ladies from the brothel, sayin’, ‘A lady with some bounce in her breasts is way better than some flat-chested chick.’ Just happened, though, that girl from his party was right nearby. Yep, the very one he’d tried and failed to get intimate with.”

Yes, I remembered that episode all too well. Not the part about me groping anyone’s breasts, though. We had left the brothel and were headed back by that point.

“Smack!” Soldat verbalized, pantomiming the gesture comically. “‘Never show me your face again!’” It was actually pretty entertaining watching him recount this. I could tell he’d had plenty of practice.

“There you have it. Having been completely rejected, Quagmire resolved himself to the single life of an adventurer.”

When Soldat finished up his story, chuckles echoed through the room from the other members who’d listened in on his tale. I almost laughed myself, carried along by their momentum.

Guess it’d be more correct to call it nostalgic rather than entertaining, though. So much happened after all of that. Upon splitting up with Sara, I went to the University of Magic, met Sylphie (who solved my downstairs issue), reunited with Roxy, and lost Paul in that labyrinth. I had four children now. Only a few years had passed, and so much had changed.

“It really brings back memories,” I said.

“Sure does. I was still young myself back then. Had no good reason for butting my nose into your business, but I did,” said Soldat.

I shot him a look. “Seems to me like you aren’t much different now. Unless I’m mistaken.”

“Haha! You’ve got some nerve, you little twerp!” Again he slung his arm around my neck, grinding his fist into my scalp. It didn’t take long for him to come back to his senses and glance in Eris’s direction. “Come to think of it, I guess this ain’t really a tale for this redheaded beauty you got with you. Who exactly is she? Pretty sure you had a thing against redheads in the past.”

“Oh, uh…”

That’s right. I’d better explain all this too.

“I don’t have anything against them or hate them or whatever. I just had a tiny bit of trauma. That’s all.”

Soldat shook his head. “That’s just a fancy term for hatin’ somethin’.”

Really? As I contemplated this questionable wisdom, I glanced at Eris. She had her arms folded over her chest, her legs spread beneath her in her usual stance. It was almost imperceptible, but I could tell by the look on her face she was unnerved. She must have known I didn’t have anything against redheads. I made it plain every single day how much I—no. It was better not to assume and state it outright.

“I don’t hate red hair,” I told her.

“I know that!”

Soldat whistled. “Ooh, showin’ off in front of me, eh? So, this beauty here’s your woman?”

“Yes, her name is Eris,” I explained. “Eris, as I am sure you can already tell from his story, this is Mister Soldat, who looked after me when I was in a rough way.”

She kept her arms crossed as she glowered at him. “Eris,” she said, by way of greeting.

“Uh, yeah…and I’m Soldat, as ya know… Hold up a sec. Eris? Ain’t that the name of the woman who put you in that whole situation?” Soldat narrowed his eyes.

“Oh, uh, let me explain.” Just as I did with Sara not so long ago, I gave him a bite-sized version of everything that had happened. It was much easier to talk to Soldat about all of this than Sara, to be honest.

“Hmmm. Well, long as you’re okay with it, I guess.” Strangely, Soldat’s reaction to it all was far less accepting than Sara’s had been. He pulled a face, glowering right back at Eris. “Quagmire here was in a really bad way back then, y’know? We’re talking an-inch-from-suicide bad. Knowing all that, you still had the audacity to get with him again, huh?”

Eris’s hair almost seemed to stand on end, as if crackling with anger at him. I shot out of my seat and tried to make my way over to her so I could force her back. I even opened my mouth, hoping to pacify her with a few soothing words—tell her that Soldat didn’t mean any harm by it, so there was no reason to be cross with him.

Before I could do anything, Eris whipped around and dashed out of the room.

“Whelp. Looks like I said too much, huh?” Soldat slapped a hand over his forehead, pushing his hair back. He glanced at me. “You didn’t tell her about any of that?”

“Huh?”

“I mean, you didn’t tell her how bad off you were back then?”

“I thought I had,” I said, not feeling too confident now.

Thinking it over, we hadn’t had the chance to talk to anyone who’d known me at the time. Soldat was the only one who knew the extent of how bad it’d gotten. Sylphie had surely filled Eris in on the gist of it. I had told her a bit myself as well. But this was her first time hearing the full, unabridged story from someone who had actually been with me at the time.

From Eris’s perspective, this likely served as a reminder of what an awful mistake she’d made. It didn’t really bother me anymore. I thought of it as a short patch of misery that’d been washed away by my current happiness. I was free as a bird nowadays, doing whatever I liked.

“Well, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go comfort her,” I said.

“Right. See ya then, Quagmire! And don’tcha forget that bit about offering me work even if I lose an arm!”

“I won’t,” I promised with a nod. “Just don’t lose your life along with it.”

“The hell I ever would. Don’tcha know who you’re talkin’ to?”

I hoped we’d keep the same rapport whenever we saw each other again. With that wish in mind, I headed for the door. It was right as I rested my hand on the handle that Soldat called out again.

“Hey, that’s right. I don’t know where that Kalman fella went off to, but there’s a place I went a couple of years ago on mercenary work you oughta know about.”

The information he passed on had nothing to do with my search for Geese or my designs on taking down the Man-God. However, it was extremely pertinent to Eris and me.

***

Meeting my old friends Soldat and Sara had been pure coincidence. Come to think of it, it’d been ten whole years since Eris left me behind in the Fittoa Region. There was no way of knowing where life would take me back then. I’d been too self-involved to even contemplate it. Even if I had, I could never have predicted returning here with Eris in search of the North God. I had a home, wives, and children to go back to—I wouldn’t have foreseen that in my wildest dreams.

It wasn’t like my life was pure perfection. I had an enemy in the Man-God. It turned out that Geese was against me too. Geese had been my friend, a subordinate—during my time in prison, anyway—and a savior.

And right now, Eris was distraught. When I found her, she was on the edge of the town on the gentle slope of a hill, having thrown herself onto the ground. Her eyes were fixed on the sky above. I wondered what was going through her head and remembered our time in Roa. She would often plop herself down on a stack of hay behind the stables and stare up at the sky like this whenever things didn’t go the way she wanted.

I slunk up beside her and took a seat. As soon as I did, she reached over and grabbed my hand.

“I did something awful to you,” she said.

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

“I never knew you tried to kill yourself before.”

“Well…I was just really hammered and not in my right mind.”

Her eyes darted over to me. “Does Sylphie know?”

I shrugged. “I doubt it.”

The whole suicide thing was spur of the moment, and Soldat immediately put a stop to it. I never thought about it again afterward. I didn’t really think it was worth bringing up.

The more important question right now was how to comfort Eris. I didn’t get the feeling she would be satisfied if I simply said what happened between us back then didn’t bother me anymore. It was a little light for the heaviness of the topic.

“What?” Eris demanded sullenly.

“Nothing, I guess. I was just thinking I’d never have met Soldat or Sara if things hadn’t gone down the way they did between us when we were in the Fittoa Region.”

“Yeah, well. Sorry.”

“It’s not like I was fishing for an apology,” I told her. “Sara and Mister Soldat were fine people, weren’t they? What I’m trying to say is that since I met people like them, it really wasn’t all bad.”

Eris squeezed my hand tightly.

She’d changed so much. Eris wouldn’t have been so transparent in the past, letting me see her weakness like this. Granted, I was the main reason she felt so vulnerable at the moment.

“As you know, Eris, I’m doing great now. We’ve had a kid. What’s in the past is in the past.” I massaged her hand, hoping it would reassure her.

“I guess.” She suddenly yanked me toward her. The next I knew, Eris had pulled herself up and grabbed me by the shoulder, planting her lips firmly against mine.

Oh, my goodness, what is this? I realize I’m all yours, but…my good sir, we’re out in the open, and the sun is still high in the sky. Yet you would kiss me without warning? At this rate, I’d go from Rudeus the Abstinent to Rudeus the Amorous.

“I’ll never disappear without saying anything. Ever again,” Eris swore.

“Right.”

“Sylphie was mad at me, too.”

“True.”

I’ll stay at your side forevermore, my handsome prince! No, wait. This was no time to be a lovestruck maiden.

“I’ll be more careful in the future, too,” I said.

“Yeah.”

“Now then, how about we get going? We came up empty this time around, but next time we’ll find North God Kalman for sure.” I paused, suddenly realizing something. There were a number of men watching us from afar. They appeared to be mercenaries judging by their rugged faces, and their stares were directed entirely at Eris. I didn’t sense any enmity from them. Nor did I sense they were here to challenge her, having worked out she was a Sword King. Maybe they’re here to ask her for training, like what happened at the Sword Sanctum?

“Do you need something?” I asked, a bit worried they might be here to chastise us for such open displays of affection in a public place.

“Oh, uh, i-it’s not like we’re here to pick a fight or nothing.”

I didn’t intend that, either. No need for all the stammering, guys. Then again, perhaps I’d startled them by calling them out for their ogling.

“There’s a legend passed down about the divine spirit we Markiens worship…”

I tilted my head. “Yeah? Mind filling me in on which divinity you’re referring to?”

“The Goddess of the Forest, Laine. A divine spirit of war with the body of a beast.”

Laine? That name sounded familiar. The description of a woman with a beast-like body made me wonder if this wasn’t a beastfolk religion. It didn’t make a lot of sense why Markien would have developed a faith in a beastfolk god, but still.

Wait, speaking of beastfolk… Laine sounds an awful lot like Ghislaine. Ghislaine was admittedly about as far from the word goddess as humanly possible, but there was a custom in this world of people naming their children after gods or esteemed figures. That could have been the inspiration for Ghislaine’s name. For all I knew, slapping the names of ancient sacred beasts from several generations ago on their kids was a regular beastfolk custom.

“It is said the Forest Goddess Laine was in search of a girl with fire-red hair. That if you informed her of this girl’s location, she would bestow upon you a blessing of victory and good fortune.”

“That’s what’s up?”

Now it made sense why so many people were stealing glances at Eris in town. Wouldn’t surprise me if there were more legends about redheaded women—like, never having to go hungry again or going to Valhalla after death, things like that.

“That’s the only reason we were looking,” said the man on behalf of their group. “But sorry for staring.”

“Oh, no. It’s all right.”

The men promptly left after that.

“Well, we may have come up empty this time around, but there is somewhere I’d like to go before we head back home. Do you mind?”

“No, that’s fine.”

I nodded. “Then that settles it. Let’s get going.” I took her hand and lifted myself to my feet, and the two of us made our way out of the town.

It took some time to find the exact location I was searching for. All I had to go on was what Soldat described to me, and it wasn’t as if he even knew the precise spot. The name of the country had changed, as had its borders. I planned to continue searching for several days at most, but by pure good fortune we ran across it. Or perhaps Ghislaine had, at some point, described the area to me and that memory still lingered. Most importantly, it wound up being a lot closer than I’d thought.

Our destination was halfway up a hillock at the base of a tree. Rotted wooden planks were fashioned into makeshift markers and stabbed into the ground. One was broken. I guessed someone had ripped off a piece to use as firewood, or perhaps it’d crumbled under the elements due to shoddy craftsmanship.

These markers, fashioned by clumsy but determined hands, were meant to indicate two graves. The broken marker had only half a name—“lda”. The unbroken one read: Philip Boreas Greyrat. It was probably safe to assume the broken one had once read: Hilda Boreas Greyrat. The letters themselves were poorly formed, the lines created by unsteady hands. Barely legible. Still, I knew the writer of these names. She would have been in deep denial at the time, knowing her—refusing to accept that the two of them were gone. It had to have been so difficult. I could appreciate now how heartrending and sorrowful it must have been. This must have been part of why she was so grateful she’d learned how to write.

“Mother and Father died here, huh,” Eris said after a long pause.

“Yeah. Seems that way.”

The disaster all those years ago had teleported Philip and Hilda here. For the residents of the Conflict Zone, it was suspect to find two Asuran nobles here, of all places. Why had they come? And to what end? They hadn’t even been allowed to give their answers before their captors concluded they were spies.

Philip had been a suave speaker, I remembered. Calculating, intelligent. No one could contest that he was a savvy political player. I figured he must have tried to negotiate with his captors. Given the suddenness of their teleportation, however, he was bound to have been in a state of shock. Unable to explain how or why he had been transported here, he had no way of verifying his identity—nor would he have known the political environment of his new surroundings, who was in charge, or even the name of the country.

Who could have survived a situation like that? With his beloved wife at his back, in need of his protection, but utterly without allies?

Eris and I might have met the same fate, if not for Ruijerd’s timely rescue and the Man-God’s advice to trust in him. There were other cases like his as well; Lilia and Aisha had found themselves in a precarious situation. For many people, the moment they were displaced, their lives were forfeit.

The Displacement Incident was an almost incalculable calamity. I hadn’t considered the gravity of it at the time, assuming such things were fairly normal here in this world, but nothing of a similar scope had happened since. It impressed upon me what an unprecedented disaster we’d lived through.

“Father must’ve hated how things turned out,” said Eris.

“I’m sure he did.”

“If he were still alive and could see us now, I wonder what he’d think about it.” She kept her gaze glued to the grave as she spoke. I stood behind her, looking at her back.

“I figure he’d be delighted.”

Philip had been an ambitious man. He wanted a union between Eris and me so that he could use it to rise to the top of the Boreas family. If the Displacement Incident had never taken place, he’d have surely pushed me into doing exactly that. No matter how much I protested about my promise to Sylphie to attend the University of Magic together, he would have concocted some way to win me over and arranged for Sylphie to be my second wife instead. Could he really have assumed political power that way? We’d never know.

“I guess so…” Eris mumbled.

In a way, things had more or less ended up the way Philip hoped. The reigning Asuran king was indebted to me, my words had gained influence, and I had connections among the Asuran nobility. I hardly held much responsibility, but that didn’t matter. If Philip were alive—if he’d merely been transported to another world like me, only to return now, ten years after the fact—then he’d try to use my current position to cozy up to Ariel. Knowing his personality as I did, I could imagine him taking up a position as her advisor and manipulating things behind the scenes.

“Mother must be pleased too, right?”

I nodded. “Definitely.”

Hilda had long lamented her sons being taken by the Boreas main house, enough that she had initially taken out her frustrations on me. I’d had no part in any of it, needless to say. She had opened her heart up to me by the end, but it wasn’t long afterward, before we could really have much of a conversation, that the Displacement Incident occurred. I never saw her again after that. Never would.

Regardless, Eris and I had gotten married and had a child together—a son we named Arus. He was Hilda’s grandchild. Gosh, she would have doted on him. I could imagine her fussing over him constantly to make up for the sons she bore but hadn’t been allowed to raise.

Hilda was a noblewoman at heart, though, so she likely would have discriminated against Sylphie and Roxy’s children. That would have caused some quarrels… But no, perhaps because she was Asuran nobility, she would have been more understanding than most about my polygamous marriage. Then again, maybe she would have told Eris, “You may be the third wife right now, but you need only poison the other two to nab yourself the position of first wife!”

No, be sensible. She wouldn’t have said something like that. Perhaps I was a bit biased based on the intimidating encounters I’d had with her.

I was sure she would be pleased by our marriage. That was what counted.

For a while, silence fell between us. I suspected Eris was also lost in memories of her life in Roa.

Eris had been moving nonstop since all of this started. It was a long trip from the Demon Continent back to the Fittoa Region. From there, she went immediately to the Sword Sanctum and dedicated herself to training. The two of us reunited, had a child together, and while trying to raise Arus, she had been following me here, there, and everywhere as my own personal bodyguard. Had she had any time to breathe and lose herself to a few moments of nostalgia?

“Hey,” Eris snapped. “What are you doing?”

I’d begun pawing at the grave dirt, prompting her panicked question. “I was thinking about moving them,” I explained. “This place just seems a little lonely for them.”

“Oh…you’re right. I’ll help.”

It would have been a simple matter to use my earth magic to peel back the earth and get to their remains, but I elected to do it by hand with Eris. We carved through the hard earth until we found their bones. I carefully washed them before wrapping them up in some cloth I’d brought with me.

“All right,” I said. “Let’s get going.”

“Fine.” Eris pulled herself to her feet.

Asura Kingdom would be a better place for their graves, right? It would be easier for us to visit them if we placed them in Sharia, but I thought it more appropriate to take them home—to the place to which they were most accustomed. The Fittoa Region was still in the midst of development. Not even a glimmer of its former glory had returned. I thought the capital, Ars, to be more appropriate. Yeah. The graveyard used by the Boreas house would probably be best.

“Rudeus,” Eris said, interrupting my thoughts.

“Hm?”

“Thank you for bringing me here.”

“Yeah.” I nodded, touched by her sincere expression of gratitude.

After that, Eris and I stopped by Asura Kingdom where we reburied Philip and Hilda. I consulted Luke on where would be best to lay them to rest, and he guided us to an appropriate location. As I mentioned above, there was a graveyard where many other Boreas members were buried, but the circumstances forced us to put them to rest at a graveyard nearby. This one was a bit more isolated, created by the previous king about ten years ago in secret. Luke had only learned of it very recently himself.

A marker in this graveyard read: Here rests the ferocious lion.

No one made any allusions as to who this phrase could be referring to. The grave keepers must have been sworn to secrecy, because no amount of asking them yielded any answers. I could guess the identity of the person, in part because it would explain why Luke decided to lead us here.

That was where we put Philip and Hilda to rest. Eris and I put our hands together respectfully in front of their new graves and swore we would visit them again.

***

Our visit to the Sword Sanctum and our search in the Conflict Zone for North God Kalman the Third had ended in failure. That was twice I had come up short, not to mention we’d taken a considerable detour on the way back. I half-expected to be admonished for it. I could picture it like one of those variety shows—Orsted pulling a string and the floor giving way under me, sending me plummeting below.

Well, no matter what, I couldn’t be blamed for how things turned out. Neither of us expected the Sword God to suddenly vanish, and we’d already taken into consideration the possibility we wouldn’t be able to locate the North God.

I felt a mounting sense of powerlessness, having missed out on meeting two people who might have provided considerable firepower for our side. But the further we got from the loops Orsted knew, the more we’d encounter the unexpected.

I planned to be genuine with Orsted about going out of my way to visit Philip and Hilda’s graves. That had taken considerably more time than my search for North God Kalman, despite the latter being the original purpose of our trip.

“I have returned, Sir Orsted,” I announced. “Unfortunately, the Sword God and the North God were…”

“Hmph.” He lifted his head, expression so intimidating it cut me off. I could see the anger on his face. 

I knew it. He’s pissed at me for taking that detour. Wait, no. Not angry. That was just how his face looked.

Even if he wasn’t angry, I was curious about what he’d been studying before I walked in. He had a number of stone tablets lined up in front of him. They almost looked like grave markers, but I recalled they were the communication devices we’d set up earlier. Placards beneath each one indicated where they were connected to. It wasn’t so bad when we only had Asura Kingdom, Millis, and the King Dragon realm, but with us having teleported all across the Demon Continent, their numbers had increased. It looked more like a server room than the CEO’s office.

“Look at this,” Orsted said curtly. His eyes landed on one of the tablets which was glowing faintly. This was one linked to Atofe’s fortress. The message inscribed upon it was short and simple: We have captured Kishirika Kishirisu.