Ugh, it's bad...
I regret my decision of accepting the drinking contest. My head hurts, and I
feel like hurling. Why is it affecting me now? It didn't make me drunk, but
I'm stuck with a hangover? Damn it, where's the detox spell when you need
it?
Gram doesn't look much better this morning. The bard didn't drink much,
so to the hung-over me, he just seems so much more annoying.
When the two lovebirds come down from their room in the morning, Rolan
looks tired, and Luna appears refreshed. What did those two do, I wonder...
not. I don't even want to know how long or how often they did it, I'm just
happy we didn't have to hear anything downstairs.
Ugh, I'm feeling sick.
"We're departing in an hour. Get ready until then." Rolan announces to the
party. I hope in one hour I'll be feeling better, then.
"Where are we going?" I just shamelessly include myself when I ask this,
but it was practically already settled this way yesterday. Something about
traveling together until we get to that city, of which the name I already forgot.
Taking me to anywhere less backwater would be a step in the right direction
anyway. I might be able to find my way from there then.
"We're going back to the guild in Hovsgaerden to get our reward for this
request." Rolan is the one to answer. Right, that's what that city was called.
"Where is Hovsgaerden?" I ask, hinting at the fact that I'd like to know
about it in a geographical sense. Maybe you could show it to me on a map,
you know?
Oh, he's actually taking something out of his bag. It's a piece of leather,
similar to the one I found in my backpack. Don't tell me he's going to draw it
onto that for me...
"Kortid!" He chants and lines appear on the leather, which quickly join
together to form a map.
Wait, don't tell me...
I want to repeatedly hit my mother over the head with a paper fan. She didn't teach me this incantation, and she didn't even tell me that the piece of
leather in my backpack was a map in the first place!
"This is where we are." He points at a small red spot in the center of the
map. "And this is Hovsgaerden."
Drawing his finger about halfway across the map in a line, he stops next to
a black spot to the south-west, not too far from it. There are letters on the
map, but I can't read them at all. My perfect knowledge of the spoken
language right upon reincarnation isn't convenient enough to extend to
reading it, huh? Maou-mama never made me read any texts, so I never
noticed.
"How far is it?" I can get an idea about the distances with this.
"About four days away." Gram joins in on our conversation. He has
finished packing his belongings and is drinking a large jug of water to combat
his hangover.
"So we're going to walk?" I'm not too keen on walking long distances on
my human feet, now that I know the luxury of moving in the form of a
vularen, but I feel that traveling with them is the better option, since I can
learn a lot of things from them.
Or at least just how to operate maps myself. I'll have Rolan teach me along
the way, and in the process give Luna more reason to be jealous. She's too
fun to play with; I just can't leave that alone.
"Horses are scarce in these parts, so they're very expensive." Rolan states
with a shrug. In other words, this party is poor. "Even this request won't get
us enough money to buy a single horse." And apparently, the adventurer job
doesn't pay much.
"We are a long distance from the Demon Continent, so the effect of the
demon queen's corruption is not that overbearing. We do not see many
incidents here, so the requests are fairly limited." The bard continues to
explain when Rolan checks the straps on his backpack.
"We plan to move to the empire eventually so that we can join the next
campaign against the demon queen." The leader finishes his checkup and
turns to speak to me with a grin.
Well, before you do that, I'll kill you though...
"That's only if the alliance army doesn't succeed." Gram slings his shield
onto his back, over his backpack, and rejoins the conversation. "Obviously,
we don't hope for that, do we?"
His voice doesn't hold a sarcastic undertone, so it's safe to say that he
actually hopes that they succeed. After all, it would be better to be out of a
job than having wished for the death of who knows how many people. And I
know that a lot of them must have died, since two monarchs, which should
typically be at the very back of the army, had been served up as breakfast
afterward.
"When do you plan to do that?" From their response, I can gauge the
confidence they have in their abilities. If it's soon, it means they consider
themselves strong. Well, they aren't really when compared to Maou-mama or
even myself, but it would mean that they think they are compared to their
human peers.
"At the latest by the time the next expedition comes around if there's one in
the first place. The journey alone will take a while, but we need to gather
funds first." Rolan replies with a shrug, before looking around at the party
members. "Alright, let's go. We'll be camping out for two nights during our
journey, so I hope you don't mind, Miss Marcott."
"You can call me Chloe, Sir Rolan." From the corners of my eyes, I see
Luna's head spinning around to stare at me with a dumbfounded expression.
Hohoho, she's so easy to read.
"A-ah, yeah. Miss Chloe." He takes me up on that offer, but he doesn't drop
the honorific.
Oh wow, that's a murderous gaze if I've ever seen one. Luna is glaring at
Rolan for actually calling me by my first name. Will they start arguing here
again? This journey is going to be entertaining.
We depart the village of Birkas soon after. Rolan, as the party leader, sets
the pace but pays attention to whether I can keep up or not. He doesn't know
that I don't have a stamina bar that could be depleted and that I don't ever tire.
I think this will be the longest distance I've ever walked in my life, just to
get to another place. Gram explained to me that it's about sixty kilometers. At
least that's my estimate, converted from the numbers he gave me. He had to
explain the relation between a league and a pace, and it earned me strange
looks for not even knowing that.
I was able to play it off with the fact that I was a sheltered noble daughter
who only ever traveled by carriage and didn't ever have to think about
distances. It's the truth, since I only ever walked to and from school, but went everywhere else by train.
The bard already told me that this would be a pretty uneventful journey
since the roads are well maintained, and there are usually no monsters around
these parts. There aren't many bandits in the kingdom since they don't have
much of a reason to exist. So, this is basically a boring, backwater country far
from strife, which doesn't know many hardships.
My little story about being attacked by bandits seems a little unbelievable
when I hear that there have been very few incidents in recent years. For me to
be attacked near such a small village seems even more unlikely.
Luckily, nobody is thinking that... I hope.
Making merry conversation and good progress on the road, the first day
comes to an end without anything out of the ordinary happening. We spend
that night in a small village no bigger than Birkas. The inn is even smaller,
and there's only a single large communal room where men and women sleep
together in bunk beds.
In my previous life, I would have been too shy to do something like that,
but with my new outlook on life, I don't sweat the small stuff anymore. And it
seems quite the normal thing to do here, since the party, as well as the other
guests, go to sleep soon after nightfall. Their rhythmic breathing tells me that
they have fallen asleep just minutes after the lights were put out.
I had expected Gram to be someone who snores, but he's unexpectedly
really quiet. So are the others, which leads me to assume that it's because the
air here is incredibly clean and people don't develop breathing problems that
way. I find my mind being drawn towards slumber in the silence of the night,
and soon slip away as well.
A new day, the same procedure as the previous.
As expected, I learn more about the people I'm traveling with. Rolan
wanted to be a baker before, but seeing the suffering brought about by the
corruption of the demon queen, he decided to change his dreams. It's quite the
commendable attitude and reminds me of heroes in fiction; they are always
born from the common people who witness injustice and stand up against it.
Gram grew up as the son of a lumberjack, so it explains his big body. He
was meant to take over the family business, but when his father and the
employees were killed by a wild beast affected by corruption, the business
was practically destroyed. Therefore, he decided to become someone who could protect those dear to him.
The bard is obnoxious, so I haven't paid much attention to him. I can
understand why he would constantly flirt with me since Luna is obviously
already taken. It must be a rare occurrence for another girl to join the party, if
even only temporarily.
Speaking of Luna, she doesn't talk to me unless necessary.
I feel that it might be a waste of time to remember all their personal stories.
When we part eventually, we'll either never see each other again, or meet in
battle as enemies. Rather than their dreams and aspirations, I'd like to know
their weaknesses. But they're weak, so there's not much more to learn. Except
for magic, that is.
The journey remains uneventful. We pass through a few small villages
along the way, all around the same size as the previous, and buy some
supplies for the road. But the little food rations everybody gets is far from
enough to fill my insides, which feel like they're going to cave in soon.
If I was alone, I could go into the forest and hunt for some wild animals,
but I'm traveling with these humans and posing as a weak girl who needs to
be protected. They don't ever let me out of their sight, and although I can
excuse myself by saying that I want to pick some flowers, it doesn't give me
enough time to find something to eat.
But finally, on the second night, an opportunity provides itself, as we're
camping out. Gram has the first guard shift for the night, but I drank some
alcohol with him, and he fell asleep. I guess the area is safe enough for
someone to let their guard down like this even while on night watch.
We had set up camp at the edge of a forest, beside a pasture used by those
multicolored sheep for grazing. I steal away in the dark and quickly transform
into a vularen once out of sight. Following the scent of the sheep, I find the
farm they belong to and sneak into the barn. There, I'm greeted by terrified
bleating.
Ahhh, so many little sheep, ready for the slaughter.
I'm back before Rolan takes over the second shift. I have about a dozen
sheep inside me, slowly dissolving and satisfying my craving for sustenance.
With this I should be fine for several days, I think.
Sorry, unknown farmer, but I left you with a few. I'm sure you won't go out
of business over this, right? Nothing connects to this group of adventurers
and me since the footprints I left behind are those of an animal similar to a wulfar's. Nobody would stop to consider the possibility that little old me was
the one who transformed into it.
On the next morning, when we have breakfast, I appear to look weirdly
satisfied with only a single piece of bread and some dried ham. I could easily
eat more, but I do it to keep up appearances.
But Rolan and Gram stare at me in astonishment, before exchanging a
glance that suggests wonder. Hey, I'm not a glutton, alright? Stop judging me
by your first impression. Luckily, they dismiss my seemingly strange
behavior with a shrug; it's easier on their funds after all.
The bard shows me our position on the map. He says that we made great
progress, against all expectations and might reach Hovsgaerden in the late
evening hours of today, rather than around noon tomorrow - as it was
projected.
That's another point where they are surprised. They had expected me to
require breaks all the time, but I easily kept up with them despite the fact that
they're walking at a pretty brisk pace. In fact, the bard appears to have less
stamina than I do, and the breaks are usually taken for his sake.
Unexpectedly, Luna isn't showing any fatigue at all. Might be because of
strengthening magic she cast on herself or something like that.
In my previous life, I ran Olympic-distance marathons in under two and a
half hours - which placed me among the best in Japan at my age. That's more
than twice the distance we travel each day.
Not like that has anything to do with my currently limitless stamina, as
that's because I'm not a human but a Crawling Chaos.
Thus, we reach Hovsgaerden late in the evening, several hours after the sun
has gone down. Luckily there is a full moon, and we could see the road, or
else we would have had to camp out another night to complete the journey in
the morning.
According to the bard, Hovsgaerden is a city of a hundred thousand
inhabitants and the third largest city in all of the kingdom. Called 'The
Capital of the Plain', it's the largest city on this side of the mountain range
that splits the nation in two.
It has thick city walls, although they don't look like they're being patrolled.
The gate is even open despite this advanced hour. In historical stories, I've always read that they are closed after the sun goes down, but apparently, that
isn't the case here. I guess it goes to show that this nation is at peace. There
are gate guards though, most likely to keep wild animals out.
"Good evening!" Gram calls out to them in a friendly manner when we
approach the gates, to draw attention to us so that we don't come across as
suspicious. The guards look in our direction and remain silent for a moment
before they recognize him.
"Welcome back, Gram. Good hunting, I assume." One of them replies in an
equally friendly tone. "Got a trophy?"
"Unfortunately, the beast was corrupted." Coming to a stop before the
guards, the big man shrugs and shakes his head.
"That's a shame. Would've made a nice addition to the guild hall." Another
guard, looking almost a decade younger than the first, comes up to join the
conversation and turns to Rolan. "You going there now?"
"Yeah, we'll get it over with tonight and make a fresh start tomorrow."
Pumping his fist, the leader states with a grin.
"Better luck with your target next time." Making way, the first guard
wishes us all the best and motions to let us through.
"Wait, who's that?" The younger man spots me and his voice tints with a
hint of suspicion.
"Oh, we picked her up in Birkas. Her name is Chloe Marcott. She says she
was traveling with her parents, but they were ambushed by bandits. She alone
was able to escape with her life." Gram explains my story to them. Now that
it's being told by someone else, it sounds so implausible that I could laugh out
loud at it.
"I'm so sorry to hear that, Lady Marcott." Tipping their helmets, the guards
express their condolences.
Huh, they bought it?
Good thing I have my facial expressions under control right now, or else
there would have been surprise on my face. I can't believe that this story is
holding up across so many people.
"We don't want to keep you any longer; you must be tired from your
journey." The older guard waves us in and gives me a sympathetic look.
"Sorry for doubting you." The younger guard nods to me with an
apologetic expression.
"Don't worry. You're just doing your job." I look up to him with the warmest smile I can muster. Even in the dim light of the full moon, I can see
that he blushes at the sight. Seems like he just felt the proverbial arrow pierce
his heart, huh? Sorry, I'm not interested in men, though.
With this, we finally enter the city, and I breathe a silent sigh of relief.
"Alright, let's go to the guild and get our reward." Rolan, apparently not
thinking much of the exchange just now, proceeds to guide us down the main
street.
"I was wondering, how can you prove that you killed the wulfar without a
body?" That thought flashed through my head when I saw it crumble to dust
back then, but the villagers believed them even when they came back emptyhanded, so I didn't think about it anymore at the time.
"If you are speaking of evidence, then they lie in my crossbow bolts." The
bard replies in the leader's stead and points at his backpack. "The part that
was buried in the beast is now blackened by its curse. This serves as evidence
that we fought a corrupted beast."
"Same for my sword." Rolan pats the scabbard since he doesn't want to
draw his weapon in town to show me what he means. I didn't notice it at the
time since it was bloody, but I guess it stayed black after he cleaned the
blade. "Anything that comes into contact with a corrupted beast's blood will
have to be incinerated by magic or purified at the church."
Church.
When I hear that word, I have to suppress a grimace from appearing on my
face. Everything I've learned about churches in fantasy settings is that they
are, without exception, actually evil and bigoted organizations. With
humanity's enemy being demons that spread corruption with their very
existence, I can only imagine that they're really influential and powerful in
this nation.
"We'll go there tomorrow. I'm sure we're all tired tonight." The leader says
as we walk onto the city square.
There's a small fountain in the center, on which a larger-than-life bronze
statue of a man wielding a hammer and a flaming sword towers. He's wearing
a horned helm and sports a bushy beard that looks like his face is lined with
fire. Aside from that last tidbit, he reminds me of a stereotypical depiction of
a Viking.
"That's Gulbrand, Lord of the Forge." Gram comments when he notices my
gaze. We begin to round the fountain to the left, and I get a good look at the statue's face. He's wearing an eye-patch over his right eye. "He was the lord
of Hovsgaerden during the Age of Frost."
"What was the Age of Frost?" I find myself intrigued and ask without
thinking.
"That is best told over a warm meal, near a cozy fire." The bard steps in
and interrupts the big man before he can respond. Alright, I have to admit
that the name sounds like it'll cause me to start feeling cold, even though I
shouldn't, with this convenient body.
"Indeed, you guys should go ahead while Runa and I go claim the bounty.
We'll come after to join you in the Dancing Dragon." Rolan suggests and
points across the square to a house with stone foundations and wooden walls.
There's a signboard above the door, showing a stylized winged dragon
standing upright on its hind legs.
"Alright, we'll get you the usual." The big man waves to the two and turns
to lean in on me. "As for you, tonight you'll get to taste the best ale in the
kingdom."
I catch myself looking forward to it. Guess I developed a taste for alcohol
despite my first experience with it going the way it did.
"Over here." Gram, being a head taller than everyone around him even
while sitting down, is the first to notice when Rolan and Luna enter the
tavern.
I had expected that at this advanced hour people would have returned home
and gone to sleep already, but this tavern seems to be crowded with both men
and women, who are all eating and drinking while making merry.
"So, have you started telling the story?" Rolan asks while he and Luna sit
down on the bench left to the two of them specifically.
"We were waiting for you." The bard replies and shrugs.
"Hey, it's not like I don't know the story of Gulbrand or the Age of Frost."
Laughing, the leader remarks and takes a big gulp from the jug of ale in front
of him.
"And for the food." Gram adds as he sees the waitress coming towards us
carrying a tray stacked with something that resembles mashed potatoes and a
huge pile of roast meat. I can feel my mouth water at its sight, but make sure
to hide my interest behind a facade of aloofness.
"You have not heard me tell it, now have you?" Winking, the bard sets aside his lute to partake in the meal first. "But that will have to wait for when
the bellies are filled, and the alcohol has flowed."
Apparently, the meat comes from an animal that visually resembles a wild
boar - according to Gram's description - and the mashed potato-like stuff
tastes exactly what it looks like. In either case, it's the best meal I've had since
coming to this kingdom. While it's much more rustic and less refined than
what I ate in the demon palace, it has a certain charm to it that can't be
denied.
When we finish up, and I empty my jug of ale, the bard strums his lute and
sets the mood. The tavern has grown quiet as many have left, and the ones
still around become aware that someone is about to tell a story.
"One final glow, a generation lost - ten summers of snow, the Age of
Frost." His voice is unexpectedly charming as he begins with a rhyme. He
proceeds to recount the occurrences of more than a millennium ago when the
kingdom had not yet come into existence.
The story of Gulbrand, Lord of the Forge, took place during a decade of
unceasing winter, called the Age of Frost. Apparently, it had been caused by
the frost giants that were living in the eternally snow-capped mountains that
split the continent.
In the third frozen summer, a host of said frost giants found their way down
onto the Slaettermark, where several small human nations existed alongside
each other in peace. The giants began to raid and destroy all settlements along
their path, and few were able to escape their slaughter.
The survivors fled to Hovsgaerden, which was fortified and well armed but
was suffering from a lack of food as a result of the unceasing winter. Back
then, it was the capital of Allvoell, an ancient nation before the Kingdom of
Lares was formed. It was governed by Lord Gulbrand.
A kind lord who had an exceptional love for blacksmithing, he understood
the mortal threat his people were under. Working the bellows unceasingly for
day and night, he personally forged enchanted weapons to fight the frost
giants with, while he opened his private granaries to feed the citizens.
One day, when a blizzard laid its blanket of death over the lands, the frost
giants came to raid Hovsgaerden. The city walls hardly posed an obstacle to
their advance, as they were tall enough to climb over the battlements.
But they had not expected to be met by Lord Gulbrand and the people of the city, each wielding a flaming weapon, who stood in defense of their one
and only home. It was a valiant fight, and soon, the giants were beaten back
and scattered into the white darkness.
Yet, they did not give up. Every fortnight, they would return and try again.
And every time, Lord Gulbrand stood at the very front of the defenders, to
beat them back into the wilderness.
Even when his citizens had grown weary, their swords had dulled, and the
walls had started to crumble, their lord would not rest. After every attack, he
returned to his workshop, and reforged broken spears and chipped swords,
not emerging until there was enough to equip every able person in town once
more.
Finally, on their thirteenth attack, the frost giants broke down the gates and
invaded the city. Their breaths of winter shattered man, woman, and child
alike, as they rampaged through houses and streets. All hope seemed lost as
the defenders fell one after another, and hearths flickered out in formerly
warm homes.
That was when Lord Gulbrand, who had retreated to the keep with the
survivors, ran into his workshop. Many despaired, thinking that he was trying
to save his own life by locking himself in the last warm place in the city. It
seemed as if the situation caused them to forget everything he had done for
them in the past.
But he came out moments later, wearing a breastplate glowing red hot from
the forge's heat. Wielding his enchanted blacksmith hammer and a new
burning sword, he gave a fearsome battle roar, and jumped down from the
castle gate, into the onslaught of frost giants.
Every swing of his sword set ice on fire, every strike of his hammer
shattered frozen bodies to pieces. He became an incarnation of flames, as his
unstoppable rampage cleaved through the ranks of his enemies.
His burning eyes brought fear into the cold hearts of the frost giants for the
first time, and they ran for their lives. Lord Gulbrand would not let up his
chase until every last one of them had left the city. Afterward, he stood on the
gatehouse until his armor and sword had long cooled down in the winter
storm, watching over the frozen wasteland vigilantly, to make sure the enemy
did not return.
"The frost giants would never dare attack Hovsgaerden again, and avoided Allvoell for the rest of the Age of Frost." Playing a few notes on the lute to
signal that story time has come to an end, the bard returns everyone from the
magical journey his voice and music took us on. "Some say that because of
Gulbrand's affinity with the forge, the glowing hot breastplate did not burn
his flesh. That is why he is called the Lord of the Forge. The flaming
weapons he forged were scattered across the lands after his death, and are
sought after by many. His magical hammer remains missing, and was
designated as one of the legendary items of the kingdom."
A shiver runs down my spine due to feeling a cold breeze blow past my
neck, even though it should be warm in here. That's how compelling the
bard's narration was, to be able to convey the freezing temperatures of this
decade of ice.
Then I find that I've been leaning forward slightly and was hanging onto
his every word - as has everyone else who remained in the tavern. It appears
that the bard is a proper bard after all, with a magical attraction once he gets
serious. His demeanor was that of a professional, and I can't help but feel
impressed.
Everyone begins to applause quietly, as if trying not to disperse the
lingering atmosphere of myth and legend he conjured with his skills. A
rotund man with orange hair and a big braided beard of the same color waves
over the waitress who has been listening from the sidelines, and orders a
round of drinks for our group, on him.
"Thank you, good sir." Expressing his gratitude, the bard tips his feathered
hat with a surprisingly dignified nod and smiles. I think I'll have to reevaluate
my opinion of him after this. "Hmmm, it appears that you have finally fallen
for my charm, Miss Marcott?"
I take it back. He's still the obnoxious person he was all throughout our
journey.
"Hahaha, that expression says it all." Gram laughs and pats the bard's
shoulder. I wonder what kind of expression I'm making, but it should be
anything but a cheerful one.
Everybody soon leaves the tavern or goes upstairs to retire for the night.
We finish the jugs of ale we so graciously received as payment for the bard's
talents, and go to do the same. Apparently, I have a room to myself, since
Rolan and Luna will share one, while Gram and the bard take another.
This will give me some alone time to think about everything that has
happened so far, as well as do some practice with my body again.
There won't be a recap episode, though.