The Champion's Return

by Hyougetsu

  Together with our 20 werewolf guards, Parker, Mao, and I left the capital. As we passed through the capital’s gates, I spotted a knight carrying a Bolshevik flag heading toward us.

  “Oh, is that one of Lord Bolshevik’s men?” Monza asked conversationally.

  I shook my head and replied, “No, his crest is a little different. That’s one of Jovtzia’s men.”

  Lord Bolshevik’s crest had a tiny crown in the center of the design to denote that he was the head of the family. The knight’s flag was missing that crown, meaning he wasn’t Lord Bolshevik’s man. It instead had a sword, the crest of the Bolshevik family’s third son. Chances were our meeting here was no coincidence. As we drew close to the knight, I slowed my horse, and he wordlessly bowed his head to me. Normally one dismounted off their horse to pay their respects, but in the busy capital that was impractical, so a simple nod of the head was sufficient. As he bowed, one of the decorative chains on the knight’s sheath fell to the ground with a clang.

  “What a careless knight,” Monza smirked to herself.

  “Hm? Oh, yeah...”

  I nodded to Monza, but I found it strange that the knight didn’t seem flustered by his supposed faux-pas. Those decorative chains were what knights used to challenge fellow knights to duels. Normally letting your chains drop, even by mistake, was considered extremely rude. Depending on the situation, you might even be punished for it. But the knight just casually got off his horse and very slowly picked up the chains. All while staring at me. It was obvious this was a message of some kind.

  Once he’d gathered up the chains he bowed to me again, mounted his horse, and rode off. As we continued forward, I pondered the meaning of his actions. I feel like I remember reading about something like this in the history of the Three Kingdoms. There was a scene where someone was trying to warn his allies of impending danger. I’m guessing this is something similar?

  I turned to Monza and said quietly, “Watch out. Lord Bolshevik might try to ambush us.”

  “Huh!? What makes you say that!?”

  “That just now was a warning from Jovtzia. He can’t really meet with me due to the current situation, so he used that roundabout method instead.”

  Monza blinked a few times.

  “I have no idea what you mean...”

  Werewolves weren’t really good at nonverbal communication like this. I smiled sadly and said, “And that’s why I’m your leader. Look, just trust me. Pass the message on to everyone.”

  “You got it.”

  Parker, who’d been watching the exchange, suddenly said, “Are you sure he’s after us? He might be targeting Eleora instead.”

  That was certainly a possibility. But it shouldn’t be a huge problem.

  “Let’s send a messenger to Eleora. She’s being guarded by the rest of the werewolves though, so she should be safe.”

  “I suppose so.”

  “Plus she’s got plenty of her own men around her, and a bunch of people in the capital support her. No one should be able to openly oppose her right now.”

  Even crown prince Ashley was indebted to Eleora. Mao turned to me.

  “By suppressing the Doneiks Rebellion, Eleora has won the hearts of the citizens and the army,” he said, a wan smile on his face. “Not only did she quickly bring the war to a close, she did so with an overwhelming victory and few casualties.”

  As a trader, Mao’s job was the one most impacted by war, so he understood the feelings of common citizens best. He knew how much war could hurt them.

  “Though...I could have made a great deal more money had the war dragged on a while longer...”

  Never mind. I take it all back. This guy’s pure evil. Parker turned to Mao and asked curiously, “Mao, how do you make so much money in a foreign country you know nothing about?”

  “As a trader of rock salt, I have a decent knowledge of various ores. Ores don’t rot, you see, and their value varies greatly from region to region.”

  According to Mao, he was having his people buy up a bunch of resources that were abundant here but rare in Meraldia, then shipping them over via the tunnel we’d come in.

  “Things such as gems and gold are especially profitable, since their scarcity gives them value regardless of their utility. Low-quality gold that’s considered cheap here still fetches a high price in Meraldia.”

  “If you’re making money either way, you could at least buy up metals that are actually useful,” I grumbled.

  But Mao shook his head and replied, “I’m afraid not. That would be overstepping my authority.”

  “How so?” Parker gave Mao a quizzical look.

  Mao smiled thinly and said, “If I started importing resources with practical value into Meraldia, eventually those resources would become essential to the nation’s continued operation. But if Rolmund’s political situation were ever to grow unstable, I’d be unable to import those resources in the quantities needed to keep things running.”

  Now that you mention it, you’ve got a point. It’s like how countries ruined themselves by importing petroleum from the Middle East, then collapsed when they couldn’t anymore. But while Mao’s argument made sense, something still felt off.

  “Since when were you such a good Samaritan?” I asked.

  “When all’s said and done, I am a Meraldian trader,” Mao replied with a shrug. “If I don’t trade responsibly, then my primary customers will lose trust in me. On the other hand, selling shiny trinkets for a premium will hardly impact the economy.”

  Mao was oddly principled, in some ways. Sure, he was a greedy scoundrel, but that wasn’t all there was to him. After a few seconds, he seemed to remember something else and added, “Incidentally, I heard something interesting about the climbing equipment the miners here use.”

  “They use climbing equipment?”

  “Indeed. Prospectors in Rolmund scale mountains to look for ore veins. Apparently their equipment was developed by some man named Draulight two to three hundred years ago.”

  Draulight, huh? That would mean the modern-day prospectors and hunters that spent time in the snowy mountains all used tools that had been developed by an escaped slave.

  “Three hundred years ago this place was full of demons, so no one was crazy enough to try mountain climbing, since they’d have to deal with both demons and the cold.”

  “Makes sense.”

  As a result, Rolmund hadn’t invented any specialized climbing gear back then. Trying to climb the mountains in those times was paramount to suicide. However, the Slave Swordsman Draulight had invented tools that hadn’t existed before to help him climb, and achieved the impossible. His pursuers hadn’t imagined he’d lead the escaped slaves over the mountains, so they hadn’t been at all prepared to give chase. They’d entered the mountains with inadequate equipment and were never heard from again.

  “For example, take their wool clothing. Normally, when you make clothes out of wool, you cut all the fat out. But Draulight kept as much of the fat in his wool clothes as possible. Do you know why?”

  Fat, huh? Fat repels water, doesn’t it?

  “To stop his clothes from getting wet in the snow? Since you lose body temperature fast when you’re wet. And when you’re cold, you die.”

  “Precisely... How is it you’re so sharp, Veight?”

  “I am the disciple of a great sage.”

  It sure was convenient being able to use that excuse. Unfortunately, I’d forgotten there was a fellow disciple riding with me today.

  “I never knew that, and I studied under Master, too...” Parker muttered from beneath his hat.

  “That’s because you can’t feel the cold anymore. You’re dead, so of course you wouldn’t be able to tell these things.”

  “Really?” Parker tilted his head.

  Can we please drop this already? In an attempt to change the subject, I turned to Mao and urged him to continue.

  “Any other examples?”

  “Hm? Oh, yes. Supposedly he also pioneered usin
g ropes and iron stakes to stabilize yourself during the climb so you don’t fall off. Furthermore, he noticed that the sunlight reflecting off of pure white snow harmed your eyes, so he created translucent blindfolds to protect them.”

  Those are all pretty modern techniques... Was he another reincarnator? According to the stories, Draulight had been born to a family of warriors. Supposedly he’d spent most of his youth at the arena, but fighting had nothing to do with mountain climbing. More so, he’d managed to create improvised climbing tools that hadn’t existed in the world before then. That was clearly unusual, especially considering how modern those tools and techniques were. Some of the legends claimed he’d even slain rare aquatic beasts and used their pelts as waterproof insulation, but those tales seemed suspect.

  Of course, there were non-reincarnators who were ahead of their time, like Eleora, but Draulight’s case felt different somehow. Eleora’s achievements were rooted in years of focused research, and her technological achievements were extensions of already existing inventions. Even if she hadn’t, someone else would have eventually made those discoveries. But in Draulight’s case, there had been no previous knowledge to build off. On top of that, he hadn’t been taught anything except how to fight. So the fact that he knew about mountain climbing was clearly strange.

  Since there were no other cases of anyone else like him, I was starting to think Draulight might also have been reincarnated. That being said, he was a historical figure who had long since died. So even if he had been a reincarnator, he would have reincarnated from a much earlier time than me or the old Demon Lord. However, I had no idea if these modern mountain climbing techniques had been around in the 1700s.

  Unfortunately, no one knew anything about what happened to Draulight once he’d passed the Northern Peaks. All I knew was that the oldest city in Meraldia—as well as the nation’s northernmost city—bore his name. However, no one in Meraldia was aware of the origin of the city’s name. My hypothesis was that Draulight never made it to Meraldia. In order to let his comrades escape, he’d stayed behind in the mountains to fight their pursuers. He must have died there, or he would have gone down in Meraldia’s history as a visionary and a Hero as well.

  After he led the first successful escape, hordes of slaves had started fleeing Rolmund, which resulted in the eventual collapse of the republic. When Rolmund reorganized itself as an empire, the first emperor spread misinformation that Meraldia was a land inhabited by monsters and that all the escaped slaves had met a grisly fate in order to deter other slaves from attempting to flee. Moreover, in order to prevent any more mass escapes, the first emperor established a permanent military garrison along the mountains. His plan worked. Communication between Rolmund and Meraldia was completely cut off, and the two countries went down very different paths. That eventually led to the present situation.

  While the Hero Draulight may have fallen before completing his mission, he undoubtedly changed the course of history. That was the conclusion I came to as I guided my horse down the highway.

  “Mao, thank you for that intriguing report. If you learn anything more about Draulight, let me know.”

  “Hm? Oh, sure.”

  Monza cantered over to me as Mao nodded.

  “Boss, there’s people in the forest to our right.”

  “Yeah, I sense them too.”

  In fact, I’d been feeling that something was off for a while now. The section of the highway we were in was pretty far from the capital, and it cut straight through a forest. This was the perfect place for an ambush. Fortunately, Jovtzia’s warning had given us ample time to prepare. I grinned at Monza.

  “It’s time for a hunt. Follow the strategy I told you guys.”

  “Ahaha, this is gonna be fun!”

  Monza grinned back.

  I had no idea how many foes there were, how well-equipped they were, or what they were even after. All I did know was that they were probably sent by Lord Bolshevik. That, and they were probably thinking they’d have an easy time taking out a mere 20 mage corps guards. The assailants probably thought we weren’t much of a threat on the open highway. After all, without bulwarks to hide behind, mage corps were powerless. And that was true, for normal mage corps. But this was my werewolf Jaeger unit.

  I turned to my guards and shouted, “All squads, charge to your right!”

  We’d settle things before the enemy even had a chance to attack. By bringing the fight to them, we’d be able to make use of the cover the trees provided as well. Furthermore, all of my werewolves were skirmishers capable of using hit-and-run tactics. Monza, Hamaam, Fahn, Skuje, and Jerrick led their respective squads into the forest. On the highway, there was the slight risk of running into other travelers. But within the forest, my werewolves could transform freely without fear of being seen. Also, since Ryucco had modified their Blast Rifles, they could fire them even while transformed.

  Meanwhile, Parker and I were in charge of guarding Mao. I got off my horse and dashed a short distance into the forest. Soon enough, I found a suitable hiding location to set up an ambush. Honestly, I wanted to go in guns blazing and show off the power of my Ryuuga, but I needed to stay back and cover Mao and Parker.

  “Parker, can you guard Mao by yourself?”

  “Just so you know, I’m a horrible shot. I’m a mage, not an archer.”

  I guess that’s fair. Staying behind was clearly the right choice.

  Once they were in the forest, my werewolves all transformed and split up. As they advanced, they used their howls to communicate with each other. Strangely enough, none of them were running into any humans. If Lord Bolshevik meant to take us down, he would have prepared at least as many troops, if not more. There’s no way a werewolf would miss the scent of a clump of people that big.

  “Who’re you?”

  “A comrade?”

  Not only that, but I was hearing unfamiliar howls mixed in with the rest. There were no humans to be found; everyone seemed to be searching for something, and there were howls I didn’t recognize. This could mean only one thing. I transformed as well and shouted, “Gather!”

  The werewolves responded immediately, and soon enough there were people all around me.

  “Boss, I can’t find any humans anywhere!”

  Jerrick and his squad loped over to me, their Blast Rifles slung over their shoulders. The other squads showed up soon after. I shook my head and replied, “We might be up against fellow werewolves here. Group back up in your squads and stay alert!”

  “Are you serious!?”

  If you’ve got any other likely explanations, I’m all ears. If Lord Bolshevik really was a Sternenfeuer believer, it was entirely possible that he was harboring demons such as werewolves by his side. As expected, werewolves I didn’t recognize started showing up before long as well. It was hard to get an accurate count because of how dark the forest was, but I guessed there were around 10 of them. Fewer than us, at least. We had an advantage in both numbers and firepower, since we also had remodeled Blast Rifles.

  The newcomers all had unfamiliar scents. Normally I had a hard time telling other werewolves apart by scent, despite being one myself. But even I could tell these guys weren’t people we knew. They were larger than us, and had white fur. One of them, the largest werewolf of the bunch, stepped forward.

  “I didn’t think you lot’d be werewolves too...”

  From the raspy tone of the voice, I guessed she was a woman. I blinked in surprise, and she canceled her transformation. An old woman wearing traditional Rolmundian garb stood before me. But despite her age, she stood straight, and her eyes brimmed with vigor. Old or not, she was formidable.

  “My name’s Volka. These kids are my sons and nephews. Who’re you?”

  “Veight. I’m Demon Lord Gomoviroa’s Vice-Commander. I assume you already know what my human title is.”

  “Indeed, we do.” The woman who called herself Volka harrumphed. “The Demon Lord, huh?”

  She sounded oddly envious. From the
looks of it, she wasn’t going to attack without warning, so I decided to keep the conversation going a while longer, “What do you want with us?”

  “You should know, shouldn’t you? We’ve been hired to kill you.”

  The moment she said that, my werewolves raised their Blast Rifles. I held out a hand to stop them and replied, “But you’re not going to try to kill me right now, are you?”

  “Obviously not. If I’d known you and your guards were all werewolves, I would have brought more of my clan with me.” Volka glared at me, her gaze as sharp as a knife. Then, after a few seconds, she grinned. “Now here’s a real man. Calm, composed, and wise... Well, you’re nothing compared to my dead husband, though.”

  Is it me, or did she just blush? I wasn’t about to let my guard down around an enemy, but it seemed like she wasn’t a bad person. Volka quickly composed herself and cleared her throat.

  “Anyway, we’re enemies. Don’t think I’ll go easy on you just ’cause you seem nice. But I guess we can at least chat for a bit. There’s barely any werewolves left in Rolmund, so it’s not every day you meet new ones.”

  “We’re practically extinct in Meraldia, too. That’s why we’re cooperating with humans.”

  “We’re no different. For generations, we’ve been serving the humans who’ve sheltered us.”

  Everyone’s got their own circumstances, I guess. Volka didn’t mention Lord Bolshevik or the Sternenfeuer cult, but I had no doubt she was allied with him. Now then, what to do... If our opponents were werewolves, my men wouldn’t come out unscathed. I had youngsters like Skuje and his squad with me today too, so the last thing I wanted was a fight that would result in casualties.

  “I can’t imagine much good will come out of two werewolf clans fighting it out to the death here.”

  I tried testing the waters with a vague peace offering, and Volka smiled.

  “You can say that again. Besides, even if we fought, I didn’t bring enough youngsters with me. We’d get wiped out for sure.”

  One of the younger kids in Skuje’s squad suddenly spoke up, “Then why don’t you surrender?”