Arc I – Beautiful World
Chapter 2 – So This is Politics
Day 3 Since the Summoning
The castle courtyard in the fortress city was quite ordinary and without frills.
Watchtowers, stone walls, a large courtyard, guards at their posts.
Alan climbed out of the carriage, stretching heavily and wincing.
“Oh, damn…
I thought I’d break all my bones in this marvel of engineering…”
Kamelia calmly stepped down after him.
“Welcome to Armenas.”
“Yeah,” Alan muttered, then opened his eyes and froze.
Beyond the entrance they had driven through, a small town and the sea behind it were visible.
Alan slightly opened his mouth.
“The sea?
No way!
This is a jackpot!”
Kamelia stood next to him.
“What?”
“I’m saying the sea is a massive gold mine,” Alan said, turning to her.
“Cheap supplies, fishing…
evaporating salt, for crying out loud.” He narrowed his eyes.
“How can you even go broke with luck like this?”
Kamelia nodded at him and walked toward the castle.
“I know the sea is a very good thing.
But…”
Alan followed her.
“But what?”
Kamelia sighed.
“The bandits I told you about, they are seaborne.
There are reefs not far away where they sit and wait for passing ships.
Furthermore, they frequently raid our shores as well.”
Alan stepped over the castle threshold; inside was a long corridor without a carpet and with windows.
“Hmm…
if they just sit on the reefs, is it really that hard to take them out?”
She leaned against the windowsill.
“If only it were that simple…
a bit south of those reefs lies an entire archipelago, literally called the Pirate Islands.”
Alan leaned next to her, his eyebrows furrowing.
“Pirate Islands…
yeah, that’s messed up.”
Kamelia nodded, looking out the window; outside, the guards were changing the watch.
“That is an understatement.
And it is not solely my problem.
It is a problem for the entire duchy and Duke Gobano himself, to whom I answer.
In the south of the kingdom, there is a small island under the rule of Count Linosh.
The sea bandits there are actually attempting to seize the entire island, and they are slowly succeeding.”
He scratched the back of his head, watching the changing of the guard.
“If it’s such a serious problem, why isn’t the duke doing anything about it?
How…
how long has this been going on anyway?”
Kamelia shrugged.
“It has been going on for nearly three years, and as for why the duke does nothing…
he says he has enough problems of his own.”
Alan lowered his head, examining the patterns on the floor.
‘Has enough problems of his own…
I don’t buy it.
I just don’t buy it.
Your profitable maritime territories have been attacked by pirates for three years now, so why didn’t you nip this problem in the bud right away?
Sure, the pirates are most likely strong, seeing as they have entire islands, but…
these aren’t bandit raids from the forest, these are naval landings, defending against them is way easier.’
He scratched his chin.
‘The Vikings were only able to invade England because there was wild political disunity there, and the Vikings themselves were highly motivated by their culture; conquering lands and becoming a farmer was a huge social elevator for them.
But here…
something’s fishy.
The duchy seems centralized, just like the whole kingdom, the pirates are just criminals, organized perhaps, but overall without any strong culture or identity…
I need to ask.’
He lifted his head.
“Listen, what are these sea bandits actually like?
As people.”
Kamelia turned to him.
“As people?
Just a gang of criminals.
I heard that in the south they sometimes fought amongst themselves, which Count Linosh took advantage of to reclaim his lands.”
Alan nodded and returned to examining the patterns again.
‘Alright, I get it…
so they’re most likely just classic pirates.
But then how do they manage to invade all the way into the kingdom’s lands?
Or…
does the duke himself benefit from this?’
He glanced at Kamelia again.
“Listen, what if…”
“Are you going to tell me what you are thinking about over there?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.
Alan blinked.
“Uh…
yeah, I’ll just ask a couple more questions, and then I’ll tell you my conclusions.
So…
what kind of person is this Duke Gabaro?”
Kamelia narrowed her eyes.
“I do not like him very much.
In recent years he has become somewhat…
harsher, perhaps.
Two years ago, for example, he executed one of the barons who traded too much with the neighboring Duchy of Tontopi.
But I do not know much, I was not interested in politics…
until now.”
Alan scratched his eyebrow.
‘Executed…
just like that, practically for no reason, and he got away with it.
That means centralization is worse than I thought, if the crown lets something like that slide.
Right…
but what if…
what if…’
He sharply raised his head.
“How old is the duke?”
“I do not know exactly…
around fifty, I believe?”
Alan froze.
‘So that’s it…
this duke is afraid of losing power.
He’s already old; by the standards of this world, he’s ancient.
Of course he’s clinging to power!
And that means, most likely, he isn’t wiping out the pirates for one reason…
so he has something to defend against.
So his vassals beg for his protection, keeping him necessary, and therefore in power.
Typical senile dementia.
But if…’
His thoughts were cut short by a sharp pain in his shoulder.
“Ow!”
Kamelia pinched his shoulder with her fingers.
“That is enough thinking, you have been standing there with a foolish look on your face for ten minutes now.”
Alan rubbed the pinched spot.
“Alright, just listen.
I think the duke is intentionally allowing the sea bandits to attack.”
Kamelia froze, slowly looked him in the eyes, then glanced around.
“You are lucky no one heard that,” she whispered.
Alan snapped his mouth shut so hard his teeth clicked.
‘Oops, medieval totalitarianism!
Completely forgot about that!’
Kamelia looked around once more, and then leaned in toward Alan, her brows furrowed.
“You had better explain here and now why you think so, otherwise I will assume you are just spouting nonsense to hear yourself talk.”
Alan sighed, his heart beating a little faster, and opened his mouth.
“Speak into my ear,” Kamelia whispered with an absolutely stone face.
Alan nodded and brought his face closer to her ear.
“Look.
Pirates aren’t exactly the most organized guys, yet they’re somehow taking over an entire duchy.
Right?
Right.
The duke is already old, he’s clinging to power.
But what if…
he’s afraid of losing power, and he just lets the pirates attack his vassals so that the vassals need the duke and no one rebels?
Think about it yourself.
He executed a baron just for trading.
He’s obviously terrified of losing his power.”
Kamelia stood with a stone face, digesting this.
“Very well…
it sounds reasonable.
But there is no proof of this, it is merely a guess,” she whispered.
Alan nodded.
“I know it’s just a guess.
But it looks a little too realistic.
And besides…”
“Lady Armenas, welcome back,” a young female voice said nearby.
Alan flinched and turned his head toward the sound.
Standing there was a young woman around twenty-five, with…
wolf ears, gray hair, and a wolf tail.
Alan’s mouth simply hung open.
Kamelia nodded.
“Thank you, Golna.
Prepare dinner in the meantime.”
The girl bowed.
“As you command.” And she walked further down the corridor.
Alan stood there with wide eyes.
“Aza oaa vooo o…
what the fuck was that?!”
Kamelia raised an eyebrow.
“That?
That is Golna, my…”
Alan waved his hand.
“Yeah, I got that she’s a maid!
Why does she have…” he waved his hand up and down.
“A fucking tail and ears like an animal?!”
Kamelia frowned.
“Firstly: watch your language.
Secondly: she is a beastkin.”
He looked in the direction the girl had gone, then laughed nervously.
“Of course…
a beastkin…
haha…
just a beastkin, nothing unusual.
So where are the elves?
Where are the dwarves?”
Kamelia blinked.
“I do not know what elves are, but dwarves do exist; they live in the neighboring mountains.”
Alan pressed his forehead against the wall.
“Fantasy world…
fantasy world…”
The countess crossed her arms over her chest.
“Listen, do you have some sort of problem with beastkin?
What is wrong with you?”
Alan turned to her, his eyes slightly wide.
“Problems?
Oh yeah, I’ve got huge problems with them.
For example, the fact that for the first time in my life, I am seeing a biologically impossible species straight out of fantasy anime and books in the flesh!”
Kamelia blinked.
Blinked again.
“Excuse me?”
Alan ran his hand down his face.
“I’m saying that in the world I come from, there are no beastkin.
Only humans.”
Kamelia raised an eyebrow.
“Wow…
that is unusual.
So…
everyone is of the same race?”
“Almost,” Alan muttered.
“Alright, honestly, I’m tired of existential crises.
Do me a favor and tell me what other races are out there so there are no more surprises, huh?”
Kamelia stood up straighter.
“Very well.
Come along, we shall discuss this in the dining hall.”
They walked through the corridor and entered the court dining hall.
Inside were simple carpets, torchlight, and long wooden tables.
Sitting at some of them were elderly men in robes, advisors.
One of them turned around, immediately stood up, and bowed.
“Greetings, Your Grace.”
The other two also stood up and bowed.
Kamelia nodded.
One of the nobles looked at Alan.
“My lady, is this the hero in question?”
“Yes.” She turned to Alan.
“Introduce yourself.”
He straightened up slightly, trying to keep a stone face.
“Alan Gothwald, the summoned…
hero.”
The second advisor raised an eyebrow.
“Gothwald?
Is that a surname?”
Alan blinked.
“Well…
yeah…”
“You have a surname?” Kamelia asked.
“Uh…
yeah…
why?”
One of the advisors folded his hands in front of him.
“Then in your world you were of noble blood, quite fitting for a summoned hero.”
Alan chuckled nervously.
“Hah…
yeah…
exactly…” he turned to Kamelia.
“Let’s go to the far table,” he said through his teeth and walked toward that very table.
They sat at the table, and Alan immediately leaned in toward Kamelia.
“Let me guess, surnames here are a privilege of the nobility?”
Kamelia nodded.
“Yes, what of it?
That is why I was surprised you had a surname.”
‘Sooo…
I am definitely somewhere in the Early Middle Ages, this is like the umpteenth confirmation of that.
Peasants don’t have surnames, that’s a classic for that era.
And they’re looking through the lens of their own mentality, thinking I’m a noble.
Maybe…
I should use this?
Though…
it might bite me in the ass later.’
Alan started massaging the bridge of his nose.
“Listen…
I don’t want to boldly lie to you, it could bite me in the side later.
In my world, absolutely everyone has a surname.”
Kamelia blinked.
“Is…
everyone a noble over there or something?”
He ran his hand down his face.
“No.
Everyone just has surnames.
Even the ‘peasants’.”
Kamelia scratched the back of her head.
“Only humans in your world, and everyone has surnames.
What kind of strange world do you come from?”
Alan waved his hand.
“Doesn’t matter.
Anyway, let’s not tell anyone that I’m not of noble birth, alright?”
Kamelia frowned, staying silent for about thirty seconds.
“Yes…
I agree.
They have no way of verifying who you were, and if you appear as an aristocrat in their eyes, there will be fewer questions and more trust.”
Alan exhaled.
“Alright, smart girl.”
Kamelia frowned.
“I will rip your tongue out right now.”
Alan turned slightly pale and raised his hands.
“Easy, easy!
Figure of speech.
That’s just how people talk in my world!”
Several advisors turned around at the shout, but seeing that no one was cutting anyone’s tongue out, they turned back to their food.
Kamelia looked at him for a few more seconds.
“Very well.
Did you want to learn about the races of our world?”
Alan simply nodded.
The girl coughed.
“Then listen.
There are several races in this world.
Humans, who are the majority, beastkin, and dwarves.
These three races typically live on the western continent.
The Dwarven Mountains I mentioned are right next to us, but the dwarves…
after a certain incident, they left human lands and migrated to live in the mountains roughly two hundred years ago.
Rumor has it, by the way, that dragons inhabit those mountains.
On the eas—”
“Dragons?” Alan interrupted, then waved his hand.
“Alright, continue.”
Kamelia blinked, then exhaled.
“Humans and beastkin also live on the eastern continent, but aside from them, there is also a considerable number of lizardmen.
I have heard little about them, but they definitely exist; I believe there are many of them in Arumelia.”
Golna suddenly approached with two trays and gave a short bow.
“My lady, dinner.”
Kamelia nodded.
“Thank you.”
Alan openly stared at her ears, then at her tail.
‘Real…
freaking real…
how her tail moves, like an integral part of her body.
These are actually, genuinely real beastkin.’
“Alan.”
‘Plus dwarves, dragons, lizardmen…
a whole cocktail of a bunch of different races.
What are the relations between them here?
Why did the dwarves retreat to the mountains?
What happened two hundred years ago?’
“Alan.”
‘Beastkin…
how are they treated?
If they’re a minority, they’re most likely…
second class.
And if…’
“Alan, damn you!” Kamelia shouted, shoving him in the shoulder.
He flinched.
“Huh?
What?”
Kamelia closed her eyes.
“You have been staring at Golna for two minutes now.
What is with you?”
The maid, meanwhile, stood across from them, nervously glancing around.
“I-is something wrong?” she asked quietly.
Alan shook his head.
“Ah, sorry, I’ve just never seen beastkin before, got a bit carried away.”
Golna said nothing, she simply turned around and left, muttering something about ‘strange otherworlders’.
Kamelia looked at him, her brows furrowed.
“Listen, this is getting tiresome.
Why are you constantly sitting there like a statue?”
Alan sighed.
“Because I’m trying to figure out what’s what!
My brains…
I mean, my head is spinning from all of this.
Whatever, moving on.
What was that incident with the dwarves two centuries ago?”
Kamelia leaned back in her chair and took a wooden spoon.
“I do not know.
The chronicles have hardly survived, and our ancestors passed down very little of what happened.” She scooped up a spoonful of porridge and ate it.
Alan picked up a spoon automatically, not even looking at the food.
‘The chronicles didn’t survive and no one knows…
how convenient.
Then something really messed up definitely happened, like genocide or oppression, and that’s why the dwarves left.
They couldn’t have just packed their bags just because they felt like it.
And even Kamelia doesn’t know what happened…
maybe because she isn’t exactly a high flyer?
Such important knowledge must be stored in the chronicles, and outsiders are unlikely to be granted access to them.
Or history was simply rewritten.
What the hell happened two hundred years ago?’
He scooped up a spoonful of the same porridge and ate it, then winced.
“Yeah…
what was I expecting.
This clearly isn’t a Michelin-star restaurant.”
Kamelia looked at him while chewing her porridge.
“I did not understand that, but it seems you are dissatisfied.
I would advise you to eat what there is, because while you sit here lost in thought, my subjects are dying of starvation.”
Alan frowned.
“And?
And what can I do about it?
Excuse me, but I’m no miracle-working god; of course I’m going to think, think a whole lot.
How else do you expect a person who was ripped from his home without even being asked to behave?”
Kamelia froze.
“What do you mean ‘ripped from your home’?”
Alan placed his hands on the table.
“Exactly what it sounds like.
I was living my life, minding my own business, and in one moment I ended up in this dump.
What the heck do you think?
Am I going to think about how to save the world, or am I going to first try to wrap my head around what’s even going on here?”
Kamelia pressed her lips together.
“It was the will of Svyatol that you be summoned.”
Alan scoffed.
“Sure.
You can just pin it all on the big guy in the clouds and sit back with clean hands yourselves.”
Kamelia stood up sharply.
“What did you say?”
Alan stood up as well.
“What you heard.”
Kamelia looked at him for a few seconds, right in the eyes.
“Listen, I have already tolerated your strange behavior and your familiarity, but now you are crossing all boundaries.” She turned to the entrance.
“Guards!”
Alan’s stomach dropped, and his body broke out in a cold sweat.