***
A blizzard blew on the snowy mountain.
Even though the season was spring, the snow-wind became even more fierce.
A fierce snowfall, rare even in winter, struck the mountain. Since the snow that fell last winter had not melted, today’s snow piled up steadily on top of it.
In the midst of that, there were eight visitors.
They walked along the cliff path of the mountain. It was a path with a width only slightly wider than one adult, and the snow piled there was higher than their chests. It was a path one wouldn't even dare to attempt even with a shovel-like tool.
Furthermore, the wind blowing on the cliff was angry as if trying to push the guests down the precipice, and the snow also rode the wind, threatening to block their vision and bury their bodies.
Nevertheless, they walked.
A man at the lead made the path.
He was the man who looked the youngest among the group.
Without tools, he forged ahead by clearing the snow with his bare hands and arms. The wall made of snow became a path as he pushed it aside, and the fierce wind and snowfall could not slow his steps or divert his direction.
The seven following him only chased after the heels of the person in front. Even though they were wearing layers of winter clothes, they trembled as the cold pierced their skin.
“……”
While making the path for a while, he suddenly turned his head.
He saw the woman following right behind him. She was a woman who was chasing him while looking only at his back, unable to dare lift her head because of the wind.
Even while moving forward, he looked back at her several times. Her steps were awkward. Because her head was lowered, he could not see her expression, but there was clearly some problem.
She did not respond even when he called her name.
He stopped his steps, narrowed his eyes, and looked at her. Even though the person in front had stopped, she did not notice and took a step, and immediately after, she collided with him and her body tilted to the side with an “Ah.”
And the moment she tilted to the side, he quickly stretched out his right hand. Grabbing her by the scruff of her neck, he called her name once more.
“Roberta.”
Only then did she, Roberta, wake from her contemplations.
At the same time, she realized her body was tilting sharply to the left.
It was not because she had lost her footing. It was because he had pulled her firmly from the side. Unable to even react, she was pulled in and bumped her nose hard against his chest.
“Ugh!”
She groaned and raised her face.
“That was dangerous.”
The man who grabbed her by the scruff, Ulrih, said.
Roberta looked to the right, the place where she had been standing and where she had been about to step. It was a precipice. Below it was a void where fierce wind blew carrying snow.
Goosebumps erupted. She was walking along a cliff path. She recalled that fact belatedly. Why was that? Because her mind had suddenly become hazy, contemplations had overwhelmed her and driven her into danger.
If he hadn't caught her, she would be down there.
“Th-Thank you... Lord.”
Lord Ulrih released the scruff of her neck and shook her head hard. Her body swayed enough to lose its balance, but after that, her mind began to clear.
The reason was revealed immediately. When he spread the hand he had used to shake her head, a magical beast was fluttering on his palm. It was a magical beast that was thin like a translucent dough spread in a circle, yet had dozens of thread-like apricot-colored tentacles in the middle of its body.
“It was clinging to your head.”
“Pardon?”
“Wasn't your consciousness hazy just now? This fellow made it so. It is a fellow that secretes a substance that causes hallucinations. It moves riding the wind and targets the heads of animals.”
Startled, she held her head with both hands.
She was wearing a winter hat. Because it was a fur hat with ear flaps, its thickness was considerable, so that small and light magical beast could not touch her head directly.
“It is fortunate you were wearing a hat. If not, and it had touched your head directly, it wouldn't have ended at just being dazed. Hallucinations are merely a means to make one not realize the fellow’s contact.”
Ulrih clenched his fist and burst the magical beast.
She vaguely remembered. She had seen such a drawing in the magic tome authored by the Lord himself. And a short description was written beside the drawing.
‘Even if the success rate is low, if it luckily or unluckily lands on a head, it melts the skull and wraps the brain with its tentacles to suck it out little by little.’
She bit her lip while making a “Uuuuugh” sound.
“……”
Slap. The sound of a cheek being struck hard was heard.
When she looked back, Duke Bailen was grabbing one of his vassals by the collar. Seeing that the vassal’s cheek was red, it seemed he had been slapped, yet he was so out of it that he didn't even feel the pain.
At that, Bailen slapped the other cheek and brushed off the snow that had landed on the vassal’s hat.
“Always be on guard. In this place, letting down one’s guard means death.”
#
Roberta was amazed behind Ulrih.
He was forging ahead through the snow on the cliff path with purposeful strides.
Even though the snow was piled so high and the cold wind was fierce, he pushed forward and opened the path without showing signs of hardship. The remaining seven only walked along the path he made.
His appearance was also no joke. While the seven, including Roberta, trembled in the cold even after wearing several layers of winter clothes, Ulrih was wearing only one set of light clothes. To the point that the person watching him felt the cold.
Nevertheless, far from feeling the cold, his stamina did not falter either. Even though he had been at the lead forging through the snowy mountain for several days, his steps did not slow down even a little.
“There is a place to rest nearby. Endure just a little more.”
Not only that. His sense of direction was also good. Only the thick snow was visible to Roberta’s pupils, yet Ulrih never failed to know what was where and where they should go.
Even if the sun began to set in a place where it seemed they could not avoid the snow-wind, a cave would appear when he lifted the snow.
Of course, there was nothing inside except for the cold. However, on a mountain with a blizzard, if one could avoid the wind and spend the night by lighting a campfire, was it not something to be grateful for?
“Tomorrow we will descend the mountain, so at least it will be easier to walk.”
Because he knew the locations of these caves, the group never had to sleep while being hit by the snow-wind. Roberta asked how he knew such places, even while vaguely guessing the answer.
“I found them personally.”
Ulrih answered while unpacking his backpack.
“While I have been the Lord of Dithmarschen, there have been quite a few people looking for the Ice Peninsula. Every time, the danger of camping was great. I am fine, but others are likely to freeze to death. So every time I climbed the Caldorekai Mountains, I looked for such places and remembered them.”
“Your memory is truly good.”
“If I don't, the guests will die; is there any other way?”
He set up the firewood and lit a campfire. It was something he had picked up here and there during the mountain climb. It seemed the words that there were times, very occasionally, when the snow melted and plants grew were true.
Furthermore, normally, they grew when the snow melted and then died when it snowed, and because they were buried in the snow, they were soaked with water and could not be used.
However, when he held them in his hand, they became bone-dry firewood.
Roberta’s eyes sparkled at that sight.
“I have thought this before, but have you also mastered magic, Lord?”
It was the first time since the Sacrament of Infancy that she had seen the Lord wielding mana.
“I can do it appropriately. Because it was a basic requirement when I was born.”
“For ‘appropriately,’ the flow is considerably delicate.”
“You can do this much as well.”
She smiled awkwardly and shook her head.
“I found that I cannot do delicate work.”
She recalled the memory of how she was loved by mana to the point that the Inquisition reached out to her, yet her work in handling mana was unskilled, so she often caused incidents and accidents.
“Did Alonso not teach you?”
“I learned, but... it doesn't work out well.”
“Thinking about it, that child had no talent for teaching others.”
Ulrih pondered for a moment, then placed his hand on the back of Roberta’s hand and had her hold the firewood. Startled by the sudden contact, she tried to pull her hand away.
“Lord?”
“I will tune it for you, so try it once.”
“No... it’s o—”
“Trust me. I also taught Alonso.”
Roberta hesitated, but as he spoke with a serious expression, she nodded and gathered mana at her fingertips. Afterward, while letting the mana gathered at her fingertips flow into the firewood, she guided the moisture held within to be discharged outside.
Normally, it would have failed immediately after that. Because the mana her body possessed was too much. Even the mana she let flow, thinking it was just a little, was too much for the firewood to hold. Like a dam overflowing because the rainwater exceeded the maximum water level, the firewood would have broken.
However, it was different now. The amount of mana flowing into the firewood was very small. He was making it so. He was controlling the mana she was pouring in, as if controlling the sluice gates of a dam, between her fingertips and the firewood.
She looked at him with wide eyes.
“Did you feel it? You just have to adjust the flow like this.”
“I think I know a little now.”
“More calmly, try to catch the flow to the point of being timid.” This chapter is updated first at g.com.
She adjusted the flow following the advice. The dampness of the firewood she was holding in her hand changed to dryness. Only then did Ulrih take his hand away and smile.
“Remember the sensation. Because mana is a realm of sensation. If you forget that, it is hard to do it again. So you must always repeat and remember it, engraving it into your subconscious.”
Roberta nodded.
“You said just now that you also taught Lord Alonso.”
“Yes, because that child was also unskilled beyond measure compared to what he possessed. The more time passes, the more I think that the Church is not what it used to be. It seems good teachers are gradually decreasing.”
“……”
“If you want, I will help you occasionally. How about it?”
She hesitated to answer.
A priest of the Church asking for teachings from a secular monarch?
Considering her position, it was a problem difficult to answer directly.
“There is no need to decide right away. It is not an urgent matter.”
“...It seems the Duke of Dithmarschen is generous with teachings.”
Bailen, who had been watching quietly, intervened.
“It is a pastime. There are few things as interesting as raising a talented child.”
Ulrih traced his memory for a moment and continued speaking.
“The direction was different, but Banares was also full of talent. That is why he could reach that position.”
“Though he said it was thanks to your virtue.”
Ulrih shook his head with a smile and stood up.
He looked at the companions sitting around the campfire. They were warming their bodies soaked by the snow, and each was picking out food from their backpacks. At most, it was jerky, dried fish, and biscuits.
Roberta surreptitiously looked up at the Lord. He rarely ate. It wasn't that he didn't eat at all. However, compared to her or other people, he didn't swallow anything to the point of it being more like a gesture of eating.
At most, boiling a snowball and drinking Songhwacha? When she considered this strange and asked, he said:
“This much is enough for me.”
If she had eaten like him, her cheeks would have hollowed out in a few days, yet he had no change at all. She watched him today as well, wondering if he would only drink Songhwacha.
“Rest.”
“Are you going out?”
Bailen asked.
“Since the food is poor, I should catch something. There are things that are more or less edible around here, so I will look.”
As Bailen stood up, saying he would accompany him, Roberta also stood up. However, Ulrih raised his hand and stopped Roberta. Asking who would remain to look after the group if even she followed.
“Roberta, you stay and look after them.”
Fatigue was evident on everyone’s faces. Because they had walked through the blizzard for several days, their stamina consumption must have been extreme. Several showed signs of frostbite and needed immediate measures.
Since she knew basic healing magic, frostbite or minor injuries were not much of a problem for her.
After the two left, while looking after the group, she suddenly asked Count Ballido.
“Count. Do you remember the story from the day before yesterday?”
The Count tilted his head, asking, “The day before yesterday?” then made an “Ah” sound. Two days ago, just like today when the two left, Roberta had shared various stories with the Count.
At that time, she learned the fact that the Count and the vassals had each received some kind of favor from the Duke and had joined the journey to repay it.
However, what she was asking now was not that story. After their story ended, Roberta had asked:
- What kind of person is Banares?
Banares, the King of the Cabonihar Kingdom.
He was a human with the title of Great King, but she had heard that name for the first time. It was inevitable. Because it had not been many generations since the Cabonihar Kingdom began to make its name widely known on the continent.
According to the Count, Great King Banares was the person who practically founded the Cabonihar Kingdom. Because before that, Cabonihar was merely a small country and had practically perished.
“What the priest is curious about is what kind of relationship Great King Banares has with the Duke of Dithmarschen. Is that right?”
Roberta answered that it was.
Duke Bailen was not the only one whose attitude changed after Ulrih revealed his name. All the vassals, including the Count, treated Ulrih politely.
In her eyes, their change in attitude was not because of their master, Duke Bailen. It seemed like an attitude that arose from themselves regardless of the Duke. Why was that? What meaning did Ulrih—no, Laurant—and the various names he listed hold?
“Great King Banares faced four crises before he ascended the throne. And each time, he had to move countries and flee, and each time, a guest helped him.”
Count Ballido continued speaking, saying that that story was one that no one in Cabonihar did not know, and was a history that was often adapted into plays and passed down.
“Four crises, four guests—the benefactors the Great King wanted to meet again during his lifetime. To us, those names are only passed down as pseudonyms for plays, and we have believed until now that those guests were all different people.”