YasaRyuu V1C1
I'm so glad I finished this before Christmas. Consider this my Yuletide present to all those YasaRyuu fans out there.
But in the meantime, Happy Winter Solstice! Starting tomorrow the days are getting longer!
I always had the vague intention of translating these light novels, but it wasn't until recently that I actually knuckled down and got on with it. Hopefully my insomniac-induced lack of coherence in this post isn't too obvious.
Copyrights belongs to their respective owners. This is purely a non-profit fan translation for other fans. OK, you may now enjoy the story!
o(^ ^)v
Yasashii Ryuu no Koroshikata
Author: Tokio Tsumori
Illustrator: Eriko Katou
Volume One
Chapter One
The Strongest Party
(translated by hakaze)
The smell of sweat, dust and of the oil and wax daubed on armour filled the palace atrium.
The combatants who had not yet calmed down from the excitement of the fighting tournament were standing idly about in groups in the area they’d been told to wait.
The prize of the knockout battles had effectively already been given as soon as each individual’s fight was over. Combatants whose objective was to fight strong opponents and hone their own abilities went home satisfied on that account.
It was inevitable that the mercenaries, or rather the tournament champions, gathered in this place to await work from the royal family.
Colossal sums of money paid upon successful completion of missions were only natural, and depending on the circumstances, since even positions as a vassal were to be had, a fairly large number of knights who’d lost a master to serve in the continuing wars were present.
As details of the assignments available were still a mystery, the hundred or so victors remained ignorant of whether they were soon to become comrades or rivals.
If a few of them had to band together to carry out the mission, it was an obvious secret of success that teaming up with skilled fighters was the most beneficial.
Striking up conversation with the highly-ranked victors and tacitly selling yourself was considered the proper way to do so.
But among them, there were those who boasted loudly about their abilities to the nearby vicinity, or who wandered silently around enveloped by a fearsome air, subtly displaying their presence, and other such behaviour that brought a smile to the lips of those watching.
Champion of the Axe and Cudgel Division, "Thunderclap" Douma was secretly weary of hanging around such a troublesome bunch of people but tactfully mingled enough to not cause any displeasure.
With bulging shoulder muscles as big as mounds, this giant of a man would certainly be a reassuring companion.
It must have been around this time that most final rounds had ended.
From between the doors opened by the palace guards, a number of combatants entered carrying the prize of gold dust in their hands.
Douma’s eyes rested upon the last to enter and stepped forward to greet him.
“Yo, "Lightning Bolt" Arkanjur. It’s sure been a long while. When I left you said you’d be heading north so I figured you’d enter the Fighting Tournament.”
Light blue eyes looked up at the squarish face that spoke to him familiarly.
He was a young man some years past twenty.
As the top of his head was in line with the mouth of the uncommonly largely framed Douma, the young man was also of a great height, but despite such, had little body width. His chest girth would only measure around half of Douma’s, for instance.
Its full length reaching past his waist, the sides of his platinum blond hair were brushed up and tied around the back of his head, with the remainder tied in a loose ponytail. That particular style of hair marked him out a holy knight who belonged directly under the Church of the Four-Faced Deity.
A holy knight however, would never leave the headquarters of Kyoto-fu* by himself and act as a mercenary soldier.
The young man’s hairstyle was once that of a holy knight - and with the condition that unless he did not lose that prerogative through committing some unforgiveable act - spoke of his ability to use holy magic even now.
The metaphor ‘maidenly good looks,’ applied perfectly to the white-skinned youth.
Between his striking beauty and faintly sensuous appeal, the mysterious ambience he exuded was almost inhuman.
A priest’s white ceremonial robes embroidered elaborately with its gold and silver thread seemed as if it would suit this man more than the white-silver armour of a holy knight.
The young man acknowledged the large mercenary with whom he’d worked with before on many occasions with a silent nod, not changing his icy expression.
“It would’ve been bad if we’d met in the knockout fight so I entered under the Axe Division.”
“I entered under the Small Swords.”
“Wha-a-at? Why the hell not Large Sword. You won’t get a lot of offers with Small Swords.”
“I’m not overly bothered about that as far as work is concerned. Only, incurring a pathetic injury from colleagues practising some ostentatious move of theirs would be troubling.”
“No, you’re right about that. I mean, for us, your health’s most important since it’s how we earn our daily bread. If you’re injured, it won’t just be work you’ll have to worry about.”
“And here I was thinking that you’d be champion of the Large Sword Division.”
The young man’s countenance was as stiff as ever, but his tone of voice was quiet, measured and gentle.
Douma broke into a grin.
This guy wasn’t the type of person to flatter him. It was probably safe to take his words just now as an honest critique of Douma’s abilities.
Not bad.
“In other words, the champion of the Large Sword Division had a pretty easy time of it since he wasn’t pitted against you or me.”
“I wonder about that. This is a large-scale Fighting Tournament. There are many skilled fighters assembled here from neighbouring countries. Even amongst the populace there was quite a reputation beforehand.”
“But, damn they really thought it through. They allow spectators in and get paid on top of it. Going through a middleman to request work from a mercenary costs extra money after all. But nope, they gather skilled soldiers for free and even rake a little in on the side. It might be two birds with one stone but I guess this is what Miyagi-ken does, even though they’re one of the Three Great Kingdoms.”
“It most likely can’t be helped. In a war between nations, a tremendous amount of capital is necessary. If the outflow is too great, the country itself would go under. I believe they’re prepared to weather some slanderous accusations provided they can save face with a little revenue.”
In the epoch of the Saint Queen who activated the Great Magic that divided the world in half due to the discordant existences of both mythical beasts and mankind, there was a singular bloodline of the Monarchy which governed the one human kingdom.
However, the descendants of the Saint Queen broke the dying instructions left by their distinguished predecessor and continued to divide the country amongst their offspring.
Until eventually there were forty-seven countries of varying size - one dou, one to, two fu and forty-three ken, as they were commonly suffixed ever since their fragmentation, and eternally waging war amongst themselves to the extent that you could not believe they once belonged to the same family tree.
A number of years earlier, the Three Great Kingdoms; Tokyo-to, Oosaka-fu, and Miyagi-ken which held the greatest authority out of the forty-seven countries, assembled together. They spoke of reuniting the realm and in the blink of an eye, the flames of war spread throughout all parts of the land.
There were four other kingdoms which were slowly but surely wresting their neighbours into annexation through brute military strength, like the Three Great Kingdoms did, and if you included two more nations in a half-isolated state, the region could be broadly split into nine powers.
As Arkanjur mentioned, each country had restrictions on the war funds available to them and as the length of time engaged in battle was therefore limited, it was currently a peaceful kind of calm before the storm.
There were not many juicy work opportunities for mercenaries in peace-time. Especially now, when a considerable number of knights with no lord flooded the mercenaries for hire market. If a mercenary was picky about the nature of an assignment or employer they’d soon find themselves out on their ear.
It could not be denied that the Crown’s sponsorship of the Fighting Tournament was a tactic highly welcomed by the citizens starving for entertainment, and the mercenaries hard pressed to find work or even money.
A man listening to their conversation butted in congenially.
“Now, what my friend here says is right. But yer know what? The royal family’s been usin' all of us to set up some nice lil’ gamblin’ den.”
“You mean, putting wayn on so-and-so to win and whatever?”
Douma replied with a dark expression.
“Yeah, you got it. Hell, I even saw the betting board wi’ me own two eyes. Ain’t no mistake there. Huge crowd of people with these wooden tokens that’ve got the Royal Emblem whatsit burnt on ‘em.”
“Hot damn. If only I thought that far ahead. Not that I’d still be a mercenary if I could, mind you.”
“With muscles and a build like that, you can’t be gettin’ greedy there. The name of "Thunderclap" Douma's damn well-known. Even in the stakes, you were one o’ the favourites for the champion spot. Well, I’m not too bad with a spear meself. If you ain’t got a problem, wanna team up with me on this mission?”
“Sure thing. I’ll keep it in mind.”
The skinny man who didn’t miss a slip when it came to promoting himself now turned his attentions to the handsome young man, squinting until his eyes were as thin as needles.
“Hey mister, if you’re an ex-holy knight that means you can use holy magic, right? Plus you’re swell with a sword, and you can do recovery and healin’ magic - great in a pinch wouldn’cha say, eh?”
“Not entirely. But I understand what you’re trying to get across. Depending on the particulars, I have nothing against teaming up with you.”
“You serious!”
“Ark!”
The guy who unexpectedly received a positive reply and Douma, who’d intended on teaming up with the young man from the outset both gave out a loud cry.
“I’m only saying that I’m keeping my options open.”
Arkanjur had been yelled at loudly enough to draw the nearby attention of onlookers, and he turned his head away in annoyance.
His line of sight was drawn naturally to the corner of the atrium and fell upon a person situated there.
Leaning against the wall, holding his sword close and burying his face in his knees sat a small combatant.
The difference in frame between him and a man sitting down close by was comparable to that of an adult and a child. Even so, considering he’d beat off innumerable veterans in the Sword Division meant he must be a capable swordsman.
As he stood there silently appreciating such a feat, the youngster, perhaps sensing his gaze suddenly raised his head without warning.
It was really only fitting for him to have such a petite frame as he was only a juvenile of fourteen or fifteen.
And perhaps it was to be expected of someone who’d beat down adults to become victorious, but there wasn’t the slightest childlike, innocent allusion about his manner, though even without that startling feature, after one look you were left an unforgettable impression of the youth.
His large eyes were a deep black, the colour of the night sky, with a tendency to lift up at the corners.
Arkanjur began to falter under the strength of the straightforward gaze reflected from his eyes when Douma gave his shoulder a gentle pat.
“The higher-up’s ‘re coming out now.”
The door to an adjoining room opened, and the stern countenance of a government official in his better years appeared, commanding an aide bearing rolls of parchment in his arms.
“I hereby announce the opening of the convention to introduce and explain assignments ordered personally by the Miyagi royal family. First and foremost I would like to announce that we have taken the liberty of forming parties for you. Those whose names are called are to head to the adjacent room and seat yourselves at the table numbered according to your party. There, each official in charge will explain the details of the assignment asked of you and give out advance payment that doubles also as your expenses fee. -Yes, you over there. What is it?”
“From what you say, there seems to be all sorts of work available, and seeing how we’ve each got our own talents and strengths I guess I’m wond’ring if it’s true we don’t get to choose ourselves.”
The combatant with his fist in the air, spoke out in a tone that half expected to find opposition, but voices of agreement rose up around him.
These were all people who knew first-hand how dangerous it was to be teamed up with comrades who didn’t co-operate when engaged in a life-threatening situation.
“Our ultimate aim is to invite exceptional individuals as vassals into our service; we do not intend to act as your employment office. We would instead like you to consider this a test of our officials. Should any of you become our vassal, you shall refrain from mentioning aloud any dissent against your liege’s orders.”
“Well, the easy-going life of a mercenary for hire suits me just fine. I wouldn’t be a governing official even if you paid me. I just don’t want to have some lousy crap dumped on me all ‘cause of what you decided. If I’m not happy with what I get, I’m making it clear now that I won’t do it.”
The official began turning red in the face at Douma’s devil-may-care attitude, but laughter and applause filled the chamber.
Each and every mercenary was extremely proud, depending solely on themself and their ability to traverse the land.
“…Of course, you have the right to turn down what we offer. Recruitment for new members shall be initiated when and when vacancies occur, so you are free to refuse the assignment in anticipation of an opening position. In return, we shall not interfere whatsoever even you are unable to procure a single assignment so please take note.”
The last sentence gave out nothing but the opposite effect of the first, and its threatening undertone put Arkanjur in a grim mood as he cast his sight over to the wall where the young boy had been.
It may have been the case that the youth had only moved to a place where he could hear the official’s voice better, but unable to find him, Arkanjur felt a slight disappointment.
A female mercenary he recognised raised her hand and was invited to speak.
“I wanna decide if I’m gonna join anywhere that’s got a place open, could you tell us what there is?”
The question must have been expected. The aide took out a sheet of parchment and started reading aloud.
“The subjugation of the evil magician Badou. The search for the royal household’s Divine Sword Wyhazaam stolen by thieves. The subjugation of the giant serpent Karos. Guard duty for the wedding of the Nineteenth Princess, Princess Victoria. The assassination of the Head of the Evil God Isack Religion. The rescue of the Twenty-Second Princess, Princess Marcia, kidnapped by thieves. The quest to find the legendary city of Fiona. The search for relics of the Saint Queen. The extermination of monsters appearing on the Kingdom’s border. The search-and-destroy mission of former-vassal guerrilla forces of our merged neighbouring kingdom of Iwate-ken. The quest to find the miracle herb that induces-“
There seemed to be no end.
The large-framed mercenary and the handsome former holy knight exchanged glances.
“So basically, we got absolutely all the troublesome stuff the Royal Family want to throw at us to pick and choose from.”
“Proof if any is needed that the larger the country, the greater the number of problems to arise.”
“Isn’t it enough to just let the servants deal with all that crap.”
“In a war where one side seeks to invade the other, the troops should be fairly fatigued. Rather than dispatching vassals with personal commitments and responsibilities, they must have thought using mercenaries was a more certain and simpler means to an end.”
“Hmph. Even I’ve got five or ten women who’d cry over me if I was dead and gone.”
“Lamenting over the drinking tab you’d left behind, no doubt?”
“…… You bastard.” Douma growled through bared teeth at his friend’s joke, then looked downwards suspiciously.
Before the young man could ask what the matter was, a question was directed at him from the side.
“Your name?”
Glancing down at the source of the curt words, it was the youth whose gaze he’d met earlier.
Wavy black hair tied into a small ponytail, he was a whole head and a half shorter than the young man and carried a sword so immense it looked completely at odds with him.
He asked again in a more formal tone.
“What’s your name?”
“When asking for someone’s name, were you not taught it’s only polite to name yourself, first, boy.”
“Uranborg.”
“I’m Arkanjur. So, what business do you have with me, I wonder.”
“Are you a woman?”
He was so taken aback by the sudden question asked with a perfectly straight face that he forgot his anger in a daze.
Douma burst into a fit of laughter behind him.
“Kid. You’re trying to say this guy’s as hot as any girl, right? But you’re kinda lacking in the height and age department there. He may be as thin and pretty as a girl, but he sure packs a punch. It’d be just a little difficult for you to push him down unless you’re about as tall as I am.”
“Douma.”
Despising such talk, even in jest, Arkanjur shot out a fearsome glare.
“I’ve met many women whom I thought were good-looking, but I think you’re even more beautiful. So it would be more accurate for me to say you’re more beautiful than any woman.”
The former holy knight rammed an elbow into his friend’s side, who was doubled up laughing, then looked down on the youngster with a bemused expression.
“I can’t say I’m glad to hear that, however I’ll take it as a compliment and give you my thanks.”
“You have the blood of the Saint Queen flowing in you.”
It wasn’t a question but a statement. The young man verified it readily.
“Yes. I’m an illegitimate son of the Kanagawa line annihilated by Tokyo-to. I’ve heard that I’m the sixteenth male heir. Though I should tell you that members of her bloodline aren’t especially rare. Douma’s one, and there should be quite a number just in here.”
“You said it. With me, I think it was my Grandpa on my Dad’s side and Nana on my Mum’s side who said they were related to the Wakayama royal family. The number’s come down now, but just a while back there were forty-seven countries. And in every family there was always some loose bastard who couldn’t help chasing after every skirt he saw. The King too, he needs about twenty, thirty children to be used for political marriages.”
The youth was silent as he listened but now as he furrowed his brows gave the very first trace of an expression about his face.
“How the Saint Queen’s line has fallen.”
“Too right. As one of her descendants, I don’t know how I can face her when she was the one who split the world and all that.”
Nodding seriously in agreement over the words he knew the gentle giant only half meant, the former holy knight cast his eye over the youth.
The fall of the Saint Queen’s descendants into degradation hadn’t begun yesterday. In every kingdom you went to, visit the Capital and you’d find youngsters chanting ditties listing acts of the royal family’s debauchery and immorality.
Every soldier for hire needed to have a feel for the situation in each country and assess any threats to one’s own safety.
And as a mercenary it was easy to brush these songs off as only sung by young children who didn’t know any better, but Arkanjur could sense the strength of the boy’s anger and sorrow from the short sentence and despite himself, was drawn to this youngster with hidden depths.
However his large friend interjected before he could speak up.
“Shh. They’ve started calling the names. Asking them again afterwards is more trouble than it’s worth so listen up.”
A white-aproned girl was handing out something shiny to the fighters lining up to come into the hall.
“That’s one drink per coin, one free drink per coin! Any more drinks and refreshments will have to be ordered separately, thank you! Please remember to take the chit with you when you pay afterwards.”
Douma looked at the insignia on the medallion handed out by the Miyagi royal family and sighed loudly.
“I dunno… The Miyagi family’s set up a tavern inside the palace just to make a bunch of pennies out of us mercenaries. It’s so pathetic I don’t even have the heart to argue. The Saint Queen must be crying her eyes out on the other side.”
A serving-girl who was passing by at that moment heard Douma’s weak complaint and corrected him with pursed lips.
“Come on, that’s a bit harsh. This place is a refect’ry for ev’ryone who’s workin’ in the palace and’s cheaper than what they offer down in the city, I can tell yer. They say yer get a lot of meat for yer money and it even tastes good on top of that. Big hit with them visitors on the Castle Tour, very popular.”
“Castle Tour?”
“That’s right. Twice a day on weekdays at three and five. Restdays they add one at a ten o’clock. Set you back ten wayn and comes with a guide book. Bargain. Why don’t yer stick around and try going on one yerself to see what the fuss is all about, Mister.”
The girl cunningly worked some publicity under her chatty tone then hurried away, both hands gripping a tankard of beer each.
The large fellow was left muttering something under his breath.
“Aristocrat born with a silver spoon in their mouth… Living the high life of society’s elite…”
“I can practically envisage your dream shattering into pieces. It’s all very well harbouring a secret ambition, but you’d best keep in mind that it’s much harder work keeping money than making it. Well, at any rate, I’d be grateful if you didn’t stop dead in your tracks. There’re people waiting behind us.”
By good fortune Arkanjur had been put in the same party as Douma and he chastised him gently.
They headed into the room they’d been directed to enter, which was squashed full with tables and chairs though its dimension were on the same magnitude as the atrium they’d been waiting.
It was quite an alarming sight to witness this intimidating, roguish band of men yelling inaudibly amongst themselves as the din of the crowd drinking, feasting and making merry grew steadily louder.
Yet the serving-girls paid the racket no mind and went about their chaotic workload with a smile.
The hard selling ladies led various men by the nose, and weak against the sight of young damsels working gallantly they ended up ordering extra food and drink.
“I dunno about this. I’ve got the feeling we’re being duped somehow……”
“Douma, over there. Number fifty three.”
Three people were already sitting at the table with the number fifty three placard.
One was a girl of around fifteen with chestnut brown hair combed into two loose plaits. It was unfortunate that the freckles on her slim, plain face showed up the better for the whiteness of her skin.
Another was a middle-aged cleric clothed in an ochre robe. He wasn’t particularly tall, but his stature was unusually well-built for a cleric and his note was flattened like a martial artist’s. His hairline receded around the temples and his blond hair was neatly cut and tied halfway down his back.
The remaining fellow had a sharp impression befitting his position as an official. He’d rolled up the parchment in his hands and was tapping the table with his fingers thereby venting his internal frustration.
“That bastard. Looks to me he’s letting off a bit steam as he waits for ‘the likes’ of us bloody mercenaries, I’ll wager.”
“Keep your temper. We only have to put up with him for a short time. You wouldn’t want to waste your chances at this assignment now that you finally have any work.”
The handsome former holy knight soothed his large friend with a light clap on the back, placation that the official ruined with his irritable, reedy voice.
“ 'Thunderclap' Douma and 'Lightning Bolt' Arkanjur, I believe. If you take a seat we can proceed with business, and enough of the idle chit-chat if you please - I’ve been kept waiting long enough.”
“If you’re pissed off for hanging about waiting so long, why don’t you try telling that to your superior who saw fit to place us in the very last party.”
“The only issue I have is with your attitude. What’s happened to the last member, 'Crimson' Uranborg?’
A small figure stepped out of the shadow of the large man, where he’d been completely hidden from view.
Douma wondered why the juvenile had the ill-fitting alias of "Crimson," when he was dressed head-to-toe all in black, even down to the sheath of his gigantic sword.
Mercenary epithets were in the first place almost always created without the individual’s knowledge. Once colleagues began to address you with the handle, you knew you were a fully-fledged mercenary, and once employers began to know you by the title you could consider yourself first-class.
But Douma, who prided himself on his information network, had never heard of the youth.
Still, so long as he was a champion of the Fighting Tournament, and nominated for the same party then there shouldn’t be a need to question his abilities.
Black hair was common among southern people, but his pale skin without a trace of sunburn was reminiscent of natives from the northern lands.
His mastery of swordsmanship in the face of his youth required his training to have begun from an early age. Having said that, it was difficult to imagine him born into a knightly lineage with the importance they placed on etiquette when his brusque speech lacked such gentility.
Douma made the general guess that he might be from a powerful clan based far from the capital. It made sense that they would zealously train of boy of theirs into a warrior and focusing on his military competency, send him off to be a mercenary soldier as further education.
Musing over the boy’s true identity, Douma heard the young official’s earlier rude remarks with half an ear and let it wash over him like water off a duck’s back.
Aware of his friend’s personality and seating himself between the official and Douma, who hated being belittled by bureaucrats, Arkanjur was initially relieved at his composure.
However, fierce backlash emerged from an unexpected source.
All positioned evenly at the round six-person table, the youth seated opposite the official silently pushed his chair back before jumping onto the table the next moment.
“Call Ruvangar,” the young boy said as he looked down expressionlessly at the official, one foot bearing down on his chest.
The official’s chair angled backwards sharply, balancing on the hind legs, and only avoided the humiliating sight of him tipping over on the floor as his knees were in the way, pressed against the underside of the table.
The adolescent repeated the name he’d uttered again to the official rendered speechless by the violence of the act.
“Call Ruvangar here. If you intend to keep this ridiculous farce going I’ll cut your head off right here and go back.”
“H-How dare you refer to our esteemed Chancellor by name, you lowly mercenary!”
A wave of quiet from the group’s table rippled outwards.
The youth was serious. Without batting an eyelid, his left hand reached for the sword handle of the gigantic weapon held in his right.
Arkanjur had realised the juvenile was left-handed from when he carried the huge sword on his back, and whilst he thought he had to stop him from pointlessly killing someone for naught, was for some reason captivated by the calm face of the boy.
Thinking his former holy knight friend would step in to mediate Douma sat back but noticing his vacant air hurriedly rose to his feet.
But before Douma could do anything, the resounding voice of an old man stopped the adolescent's movements in his tracks.
“Uranborg-sama!”
The elderly man with a wealth of white hair and a beard that extended all the way down his chest, cut a hasty path through the narrow gaps between the tables.
“Has this man said anything offensive to you, perchance?”
The girl in plaits answered on behalf of the youth.
“Don’t you give me that ‘perchance?’ He was all, ‘As one the Miyagi family’s vassals I’m deeply unwilling to allow such nuisances as mercenary soldiers to perform such important tasks.’ and saying stuff like ‘oh, you lowly mercenaries.’ I mean, seriously, who in their mind would accept the job when a guy talks condescendingly down to you, dresses it up as some all-important mission and obviously hates your guts? I cannot believe it.”
“You have my most sincere apologies. I left instructions to keep pleasant company as I made my way here, but it seems I have not impressed the gravity of the matter enough for it to pass down the ranks - thus leading to this situation where I was called for. I offer you my deepest apologies.”
The elderly man’s last few words were directed at the youth still with his foot pressing down on the official’s chest, and his gaze still firmly fixed on the official’s face.
Uranborg accepted the apology without a word and jumped off the table.
“Chancellor……”
“You complete nincompoop! How could you be so rude towards this gentleman who defeated that creature!”
“You mean that sphinx……!”
The immediate mercenaries overheard every word of the young official and went into an uproar, shouting exclamations of astonishment in unison.
“The legendary mythical beast hunter! Amazing, it’s the first time I’ve laid eyes on him!”
“If you’re talking about sphinxes, they’re pretty big game when it comes to mythical beasts. Are you trying to telling me that little rascal there took one out?”
“If not, then go figure why the hell the Chancellor of Miyagi, of the Three Great Kingdoms, himself, is greeting them in person, you dozy bugger.”
It wasn’t just the mercenaries, but the serving-girls and even some officials at nearby tables trying to catch a glimpse, and the youth gave the elderly man a look that told him to hurry up and sit down.
The elderly nobleman, known as the secret backbone behind the exemplary government of Miyagi, uttered his apologies for the disturbance and asked them to return to their affairs.
“Yo, kid. Is it true - did you really defeat a sphinx?”
The youth nodded simply under Douma’s clearly amused stare.
“That’s just rich! We’ll be the strongest party ever.”
“We formed the party with that intention, 'Thunderclap' Douma. And, 'Lightning Bolt' Arkanjur."
“I’m often asked to eradicate undead monsters, but I’m afraid I haven’t much experience when it comes to mythical beasts. Only orcs and lycanthropes.”
“With me it’s ogres and centaurs. We defeated them somehow, but there were a few casualties in our group. Sphinx-level mythical beasts aren’t exactly something you go around asking to eliminate. Is our job just gonna be guarding this kid?”
“This party was formed not with the intention of having individuals compete for top position, but to co-operate and work together as a group to eliminate mythical beasts.”
The Chancellor selected his reply carefully, making sure it honoured the self-respect of a first-rate mercenary.
One thousand years had passed since the world was divided in two. During that time, there were two great insurgences bloody enough to upset the balance between worlds causing mythical beasts to appear on the surface.
The previous upheaval was now around three hundred and fifty years ago, but tales of the hunter who accepted elimination requests of the mythical beasts at the time were still being passed down today.
He was legendary based partially on the whole enterprise of the rare mythical beasts, which were challenging to exterminate, as well as a testing endeavour to protect and support their extraction from this world.
Douma turned his eyes, obscured by bushy eyebrows, to the youth.
“Kid. Are you seriously the legendary mythical beast hunter?”
“I don’t know about any legend. The only reason I’m here is to remove all mythical beasts from this world.”
Depending on one’s interpretation, he made light of an extremely arrogant statement. But his collected air made it seem natural, despite his young looks.
Resting his chin on his elbows, Douma gave a short hoot of laughter at the boy’s calm response.
“Looks like you’re the real deal. I’ll keep my expectations high then. Leave the rest to us and you can concentrate on taking care of those creatures.”
“That does seem to give us the best odds,” agreed the handsome male.
The freckled girl clapped her hands together.
“I’m so impressed by you two, what can I say!. How you don’t let your pride get in the way is the true mark of a first-rate pro. I’m Claudia. My specialty’s with the bow and I can use the four major spirit magic up to the first level. I’ll pull my weight in the team too so let’s get along.”
The Chancellor introduced the middle-aged cleric who was maintaining a modest silence.
“This person’s here is Gais, and he used to work in the palace as a guard until he entered the priesthood. His prowess at martial arts is particularly excellent and he can use holy magic as well as some supportive attack spirit magic and thus I believe can work well in both offensive and defensive roles. I’ve already communicated all necessary information on the assignment regarding the mythical beasts to Gais. You can hear the amount of your reward fee and other details through him at a later date.”
“Then why’d you come here us to see yourself? If it was anything important you could’ve even called us out to someplace else.”
“Considering we are asking you to take on hazardous endeavours relating to the kingdom’s welfare, it is only right that I come out to greet you. On behalf on His Majesty, I have been commanded to convey his warmest regards to you all.”
The elderly gentleman known as the esteemed Chancellor placed his right hand over a balled fist, brought it up to eye level and bowed his head. **
People watching them out of the corner of their eye couldn’t believe what they were seeing when they witnessed the Chancellor performing the high form of gratitude.
“My Lord Chancellor. Please, stop such behaviour. We already appreciate your efforts to thank us, but your actions will only make us stand out, I’m afraid.”
“Some more won’t kill us, I guess,” sighed Douma as he wiped a congenial smile from his face and stared at the kindly face of the Chancellor.
“This doesn’t really have much to do with the job but tell me one thing. Why is a revered and respected Chancellor, such as yourself, creating another massive upheaval by invading other countries and in the process bringing out these mythical beasts.”
“Thanks to good fortune, Miyagi-ken has been blessed with wealth and prosperity. However, beyond the invisible national borders, there are citizens suffering suppression under their government and who flee to our country one after the other. To prevent their escape, the military fortify national boundaries and stop all attempts by force. Rather than only our country flourishing and prospering, I want to save all the people I can, even if I must invade other nations to do so - I do not mind if you call me a hypocrite for thinking such thoughts.”
“Hmmmm. It’ll be the job of historians in the future to decide what to call you. Either way, these mythical beasts are a pain to everyone - and everywhere. Guess I’ll just have the bakery boy work hard for me. - Right, kiddo……”
Looking over his shoulder, Douma’s words trailed off.
The adolescent was tilting his head back to take a draught from a tankard of beer so large his entire head could fit inside.
The former holy knight’s frosty expression melted and he laughed out loud.
There was a hilarious contrast between the big man’s thunderstruck face and the indifferent youth who went on drinking, unperturbed.
“Between you and the boy, it seems we’d better prepare ourselves for a rather hefty drinking tab.”
His strikingly warm smile possessed an ethereal lustre, coupled with something like the brilliance of sunshine chasing away shadows.
Arkanjur was indeed such an amazingly beautiful man that the Chancellor looked at him in pure admiration.
The girl sitting across from him was mesmerised by his exquisite smile, but could not quite contain her inner anger at the injustice of the inequality between their appearances.
The Fighting Tournament had now closed amidst great cheers and applause and as the vast crowd of spectators dispersed, even the lively capital seemed somehow forlorn.
The party left the palace behind in search of mid-sized lodgings in the centre of town where they could spent the night.
Douma ended up heading the party due to his natural personality, and launched into conversation about their mission as soon as everybody had settled themselves comfortably in the large room the four men shared.
“I don’t trust that cunning old racoon. And unfortunately, I’m not naïve enough to be all happy about the Chancellor of a country bowing down to me. Let’s have you spit out the fine print of what we’re doing.”
Without rebuking Douma’s rude words about the Chancellor, the cleric accepted his invitation and started explaining.
“It’s unclear exactly which kind of mythical beasts, but we have two separate requests to eliminate them. One lies in Fukushima-ken and the other in Niigata-ken. Payment will come to a hundred thousand wayn per person, per request.”
Douma whistled. With that amount you could easily play around for ten years.
The juvenile mythical beast hunter and the former holy knight male were the only two whose expression didn’t change upon hearing the colossal amount of money involved.
Perhaps Claudia couldn’t get a feeling for the unrealistic figure as she wore a perplexed expression.
“I can’t comprehend it.”
Arkanjur spoke up.
“I’d understand if they asked us to eliminate mythical beasts appearing within the kingdom, but why on earth would they specify we go after creatures in countries they’re planning to attack and invade. Wouldn’t it work in their favour when the hostile country allocates troops to take care of them?”
“According to spy reports, both countries are keeping the beasts tamed with sacrifices, and training them to attack enemy forces. Something along the lines of a guardian deity, only it’s a guardian beast. Even with an army of expert soldiers, they’ll have to be prepared to take serious damage if they’re fighting against a mythical beast.”
“Taming mythical beasts with sacrifices? Perish the thought. The more powerful mythical beasts have human level intelligence, or higher. Such arrogance will receive its comeuppance.”
Arkanjur frowned in displeasure. Spoken in a rare harsh tone of voice, Uranborg followed up his conclusive words with, “Like Miyagi-ken.”
All heads turned towards the youth.
“…….I see. And so you were called to dispatch the sphinx.”
“I wasn’t called, but from the conclusion that’s what basically happened.”
“……Have you asked what they fed the creature?”
“At first it was imprisoned thieves, murderers and robbers. When they ran out, refugee beggars. In the end they didn’t know what to do, when I came along and killed him.”
Contradictory to the youth’s unemotional answer, the former holy knight was furious.
“What did he mean by, ‘I want to save citizens suffering under suppression in neighbouring countries!’ Forget hypocrite, he’s nothing more than filthy murderer! It disgusts me to know he’s called the esteemed Chancellor.”
Curiously, Douma reasoned coolly against Arkanjur’s rage.
“You can’t protect a kingdom on half-boiled determination alone. I think the old geezer’s ideal wasn’t a lie. Miyagi-ken’s governed pretty fairly. You won’t be able to turn ideals ‘nto reality if you can’t handle a few sacrifices here and there. The old guy’s at least got an ideal behind what he’s pursuing.”
“Unfortunately, I’m a mere mercenary - not the Chancellor of a country. And I have no desire to keep a mythical beast to the extent that I would feed it humans.”
Abandoning himself to anger, Arkanjur’s icy tone and behaviour gave a more haughty impression than normal, but the noble chord he struck was compelling.
-Beautiful people sure have it easy~.
Claudia pushed the bitter thought to the back of her mind, and with a bright smile began to placate everyone.
“Now, now. Let’s not argue about stuff outside of work. Anyway! We just have to go to some country and kill a bunch of mythical beasts. That way, there’ll be no sacrifices, Miyagi-ken’s soldiers won’t be killed and we’ll each get a hundred thousand wayn. Sounds pretty good, right? Right?”
“-Between Fukushima and Niigata, which army’s stronger?”
Asked a sudden question by the adolescent, the cleric replied after a moment’s pause.
“That would be Niigata. They have a heavy cavalry brigade.”
“Then we’re going to Niigata first.”
“E~eh? Why~? Fukushima’s so much nearer.”
“Neither of them know we’re after the mythical beasts so it’ll be easier to infiltrate. Both countries are currently focused on Miyagi’s movements, but once we take care of one side’s mythical beasts, the remaining country will be on higher alert. We take care of the troublesome one first.”
Once he’d finished explaining his analysis to the dissatisfied girl, the youth then brought up a new topic.
“You’re a descendant of the Saint Queen.”
“Eh? …… Oh, yeah, I guess. But well, there’s a lot of them around. Why’d you-”
“Her blood runs strong in you. It might not be strange for royalty repeating political marriages among distant relatives, but for a commoner it’s surprisingly rare.”
“Look, just cut it out, alright! What are you trying to get at? What do you even know about me that gives you the right to say that?”
There was something unnatural about how Claudia railed at the youth that only served to underline his words.
Douma folded his arms and hummed.
“The princess of a destroyed country? We don’t want to get involved with talk of revenge and all that.”
“That’s not it! I’m the champion of the Bow Division that I won fair and square! I’ve even completed five mercenary assignments!”
“You mean, only five. Probably not enough experience for a big job like this one, eliminating mythical beasts.”
“What are you being so difficult for! I was chosen as one of the members of this party so I’m coming along too. If you say I’ll be in the way, then when the time comes you’re free to abandon me and just leave me behind.”
Just when it seemed the image of the girl snapping shrilling at the large man stroking his chin solemnly would go on indefinitely-
“……Douma-dono. I shall take responsibility for the Princess, and I implore you to allow her continued accompaniment as a fellow member of the party.”
“Don’t say any more!”
Claudia scolded Gais hotly for his hesitant request.
Arkanjur recalled the cleric’s past resume as a palace guard.
“I see. So Claudia’s a princess of the Miyagi family……”
“If she’s a princess from the Miyagi family then she can live without a care in the world. What are you doing, playing at being a mercenary ‘cause you feel like it? Look, Princess. Being a mercenary's a……”
“Stop lecturing me like you know everything, "Swift Lightning" Douma! I know what you’re about to say, already. I’ve heard it all before, my ears are sore from hearing it so much.”
Changing her tone to a more formal one, the girl in loose plaits silenced the large man with a quiet intensity previously unheard in her voice.
“In political marriages, the lineage of your parents means everything. My father is the King of Miyagi and my mother is his fourth wife. It would be widely agreed that she married into a good station, and they’re a well-suited match. But what meaning does pedigree hold? If I’d been born a beautiful, feminine daughter like my elder sisters, then like them, I might have married and lived in matrimonial happiness forever after. But supposing my husband’s heart is already taken and so incapable of loving a person like one of my sisters, I must still live a closed, kept life shut away in the palace ‘til the day I die. You want to say, ‘Think of the girls in the street dying of hunger or killed by the ravages of war.’ But, unable to participate in politics, or join the army like my elder brothers, my life is in name only as I can do nothing under my own free will. Since I was a child, I sought out the time to practise my bow and arrow, and not only improved my horse-riding but looked after the horses as well. I made myself learn various life skills so I could get on in the world, no matter how much people laughed at me or called me peculiar. I've won the Fighting Tournament and when I successfully complete this assignment to eliminate the mythical beasts, my arranged marriage will be absolved and I’ll be allowed to leave the royalty. So no matter what you say, I’m coming along with you.”
There seemed to be no lie in her words, which she rounded off in a determined, clipped tone.
Her worn leather shirt hugged its familiar contours of her slim body.
“What’d ya think we should do?,” queried Douma. The former holy knight was mildly incensed at Douma sly effort of forcing his own decision onto him.
“If you’re that resolved, I see no problem. However, we shall not be giving you any special treatment. And if anything should happen to you, I’d like to have some kind of insurance that we shall not be held to account.”
“……Nothing to worry about in that case. I have the joint signatures of my Father and Ruvangar on a document I had them draw up in case my identity was bust. I’ve sewn it into the underside of this leather shirt so just take it if I die. - Ma-an, why’d I get found out this quickly? So maddening. Just who are you?
Claudia gave the adolescent a poke with her elbow, but his black eyes were looking up at Arkanjur.
Realising for the first time the beauty and depths founds in the dark hue, the young man was spellbound for a split instant.
“Blood emits its own energy. Relations all have a similar kind of energy. I’m particularly attune to the bloodline of the Saint Queen.”
Breaking off his words for a moment, Uranborg continued in a calm yet weighty tone of voice.
“-The Saint Queen bloodline is special to me.”
Douma replied, apparently impressed, “The mythical beast hunter’s got a weird ability, that’s for sure. We’re counting on you, kid. Now, then. Let’s get cracking with all the stuff we’ll need for Niigata.”
“Oh. If it’s pack food, I know a cheap place to get it from.”
“Great. Then we’ll let you lead the way. Gais, you said you were given the expenses money, right?”
It was hard to imagine that just a short while earlier these two people were arguing over whether they’d be members of the same party, but now their conversation was completely engrossed in details of the mission.
Douma held the palm of his hand out impatiently towards the cleric, who hurriedly opened the mouth of the cloth purse tied round his neck.
-End of Chapter 1-
Notes:-
* As is pretty obvious in the English, the names of the countries (all of them from what I can recall) are pronounced the same as the provinces of Japan. But! None of them are spelt the same way as their real-life counterparts, and in the story, the province suffixes are replaced with nonsensical kanji that shares the same sound as the real-life province suffixes allowing for a touch of ironic familiarity especially since descriptions of their location point to the same layout in real-life. In other words, the 'countries' in the story and certain provinces of Japan share the same sound but are spelt completely differently. Some of them are actually very picturesque - I might write out an explanation sometime.
** This kind of bow is often used in martial arts, check out a Chinese historical drama for the best examples. ^^
Please feel free to make any suggestions to the text, point out errors or ask for better clarity etc.
*(^ ^)*
But in the meantime, Happy Winter Solstice! Starting tomorrow the days are getting longer!
I always had the vague intention of translating these light novels, but it wasn't until recently that I actually knuckled down and got on with it. Hopefully my insomniac-induced lack of coherence in this post isn't too obvious.
Copyrights belongs to their respective owners. This is purely a non-profit fan translation for other fans. OK, you may now enjoy the story!
o(^ ^)v
Yasashii Ryuu no Koroshikata
Author: Tokio Tsumori
Illustrator: Eriko Katou
Volume One
Chapter One
The Strongest Party
(translated by hakaze)
The smell of sweat, dust and of the oil and wax daubed on armour filled the palace atrium.
The combatants who had not yet calmed down from the excitement of the fighting tournament were standing idly about in groups in the area they’d been told to wait.
The prize of the knockout battles had effectively already been given as soon as each individual’s fight was over. Combatants whose objective was to fight strong opponents and hone their own abilities went home satisfied on that account.
It was inevitable that the mercenaries, or rather the tournament champions, gathered in this place to await work from the royal family.
Colossal sums of money paid upon successful completion of missions were only natural, and depending on the circumstances, since even positions as a vassal were to be had, a fairly large number of knights who’d lost a master to serve in the continuing wars were present.
As details of the assignments available were still a mystery, the hundred or so victors remained ignorant of whether they were soon to become comrades or rivals.
If a few of them had to band together to carry out the mission, it was an obvious secret of success that teaming up with skilled fighters was the most beneficial.
Striking up conversation with the highly-ranked victors and tacitly selling yourself was considered the proper way to do so.
But among them, there were those who boasted loudly about their abilities to the nearby vicinity, or who wandered silently around enveloped by a fearsome air, subtly displaying their presence, and other such behaviour that brought a smile to the lips of those watching.
Champion of the Axe and Cudgel Division, "Thunderclap" Douma was secretly weary of hanging around such a troublesome bunch of people but tactfully mingled enough to not cause any displeasure.
With bulging shoulder muscles as big as mounds, this giant of a man would certainly be a reassuring companion.
It must have been around this time that most final rounds had ended.
From between the doors opened by the palace guards, a number of combatants entered carrying the prize of gold dust in their hands.
Douma’s eyes rested upon the last to enter and stepped forward to greet him.
“Yo, "Lightning Bolt" Arkanjur. It’s sure been a long while. When I left you said you’d be heading north so I figured you’d enter the Fighting Tournament.”
Light blue eyes looked up at the squarish face that spoke to him familiarly.
He was a young man some years past twenty.
As the top of his head was in line with the mouth of the uncommonly largely framed Douma, the young man was also of a great height, but despite such, had little body width. His chest girth would only measure around half of Douma’s, for instance.
Its full length reaching past his waist, the sides of his platinum blond hair were brushed up and tied around the back of his head, with the remainder tied in a loose ponytail. That particular style of hair marked him out a holy knight who belonged directly under the Church of the Four-Faced Deity.
A holy knight however, would never leave the headquarters of Kyoto-fu* by himself and act as a mercenary soldier.
The young man’s hairstyle was once that of a holy knight - and with the condition that unless he did not lose that prerogative through committing some unforgiveable act - spoke of his ability to use holy magic even now.
The metaphor ‘maidenly good looks,’ applied perfectly to the white-skinned youth.
Between his striking beauty and faintly sensuous appeal, the mysterious ambience he exuded was almost inhuman.
A priest’s white ceremonial robes embroidered elaborately with its gold and silver thread seemed as if it would suit this man more than the white-silver armour of a holy knight.
The young man acknowledged the large mercenary with whom he’d worked with before on many occasions with a silent nod, not changing his icy expression.
“It would’ve been bad if we’d met in the knockout fight so I entered under the Axe Division.”
“I entered under the Small Swords.”
“Wha-a-at? Why the hell not Large Sword. You won’t get a lot of offers with Small Swords.”
“I’m not overly bothered about that as far as work is concerned. Only, incurring a pathetic injury from colleagues practising some ostentatious move of theirs would be troubling.”
“No, you’re right about that. I mean, for us, your health’s most important since it’s how we earn our daily bread. If you’re injured, it won’t just be work you’ll have to worry about.”
“And here I was thinking that you’d be champion of the Large Sword Division.”
The young man’s countenance was as stiff as ever, but his tone of voice was quiet, measured and gentle.
Douma broke into a grin.
This guy wasn’t the type of person to flatter him. It was probably safe to take his words just now as an honest critique of Douma’s abilities.
Not bad.
“In other words, the champion of the Large Sword Division had a pretty easy time of it since he wasn’t pitted against you or me.”
“I wonder about that. This is a large-scale Fighting Tournament. There are many skilled fighters assembled here from neighbouring countries. Even amongst the populace there was quite a reputation beforehand.”
“But, damn they really thought it through. They allow spectators in and get paid on top of it. Going through a middleman to request work from a mercenary costs extra money after all. But nope, they gather skilled soldiers for free and even rake a little in on the side. It might be two birds with one stone but I guess this is what Miyagi-ken does, even though they’re one of the Three Great Kingdoms.”
“It most likely can’t be helped. In a war between nations, a tremendous amount of capital is necessary. If the outflow is too great, the country itself would go under. I believe they’re prepared to weather some slanderous accusations provided they can save face with a little revenue.”
In the epoch of the Saint Queen who activated the Great Magic that divided the world in half due to the discordant existences of both mythical beasts and mankind, there was a singular bloodline of the Monarchy which governed the one human kingdom.
However, the descendants of the Saint Queen broke the dying instructions left by their distinguished predecessor and continued to divide the country amongst their offspring.
Until eventually there were forty-seven countries of varying size - one dou, one to, two fu and forty-three ken, as they were commonly suffixed ever since their fragmentation, and eternally waging war amongst themselves to the extent that you could not believe they once belonged to the same family tree.
A number of years earlier, the Three Great Kingdoms; Tokyo-to, Oosaka-fu, and Miyagi-ken which held the greatest authority out of the forty-seven countries, assembled together. They spoke of reuniting the realm and in the blink of an eye, the flames of war spread throughout all parts of the land.
There were four other kingdoms which were slowly but surely wresting their neighbours into annexation through brute military strength, like the Three Great Kingdoms did, and if you included two more nations in a half-isolated state, the region could be broadly split into nine powers.
As Arkanjur mentioned, each country had restrictions on the war funds available to them and as the length of time engaged in battle was therefore limited, it was currently a peaceful kind of calm before the storm.
There were not many juicy work opportunities for mercenaries in peace-time. Especially now, when a considerable number of knights with no lord flooded the mercenaries for hire market. If a mercenary was picky about the nature of an assignment or employer they’d soon find themselves out on their ear.
It could not be denied that the Crown’s sponsorship of the Fighting Tournament was a tactic highly welcomed by the citizens starving for entertainment, and the mercenaries hard pressed to find work or even money.
A man listening to their conversation butted in congenially.
“Now, what my friend here says is right. But yer know what? The royal family’s been usin' all of us to set up some nice lil’ gamblin’ den.”
“You mean, putting wayn on so-and-so to win and whatever?”
Douma replied with a dark expression.
“Yeah, you got it. Hell, I even saw the betting board wi’ me own two eyes. Ain’t no mistake there. Huge crowd of people with these wooden tokens that’ve got the Royal Emblem whatsit burnt on ‘em.”
“Hot damn. If only I thought that far ahead. Not that I’d still be a mercenary if I could, mind you.”
“With muscles and a build like that, you can’t be gettin’ greedy there. The name of "Thunderclap" Douma's damn well-known. Even in the stakes, you were one o’ the favourites for the champion spot. Well, I’m not too bad with a spear meself. If you ain’t got a problem, wanna team up with me on this mission?”
“Sure thing. I’ll keep it in mind.”
The skinny man who didn’t miss a slip when it came to promoting himself now turned his attentions to the handsome young man, squinting until his eyes were as thin as needles.
“Hey mister, if you’re an ex-holy knight that means you can use holy magic, right? Plus you’re swell with a sword, and you can do recovery and healin’ magic - great in a pinch wouldn’cha say, eh?”
“Not entirely. But I understand what you’re trying to get across. Depending on the particulars, I have nothing against teaming up with you.”
“You serious!”
“Ark!”
The guy who unexpectedly received a positive reply and Douma, who’d intended on teaming up with the young man from the outset both gave out a loud cry.
“I’m only saying that I’m keeping my options open.”
Arkanjur had been yelled at loudly enough to draw the nearby attention of onlookers, and he turned his head away in annoyance.
His line of sight was drawn naturally to the corner of the atrium and fell upon a person situated there.
Leaning against the wall, holding his sword close and burying his face in his knees sat a small combatant.
The difference in frame between him and a man sitting down close by was comparable to that of an adult and a child. Even so, considering he’d beat off innumerable veterans in the Sword Division meant he must be a capable swordsman.
As he stood there silently appreciating such a feat, the youngster, perhaps sensing his gaze suddenly raised his head without warning.
It was really only fitting for him to have such a petite frame as he was only a juvenile of fourteen or fifteen.
And perhaps it was to be expected of someone who’d beat down adults to become victorious, but there wasn’t the slightest childlike, innocent allusion about his manner, though even without that startling feature, after one look you were left an unforgettable impression of the youth.
His large eyes were a deep black, the colour of the night sky, with a tendency to lift up at the corners.
Arkanjur began to falter under the strength of the straightforward gaze reflected from his eyes when Douma gave his shoulder a gentle pat.
“The higher-up’s ‘re coming out now.”
The door to an adjoining room opened, and the stern countenance of a government official in his better years appeared, commanding an aide bearing rolls of parchment in his arms.
“I hereby announce the opening of the convention to introduce and explain assignments ordered personally by the Miyagi royal family. First and foremost I would like to announce that we have taken the liberty of forming parties for you. Those whose names are called are to head to the adjacent room and seat yourselves at the table numbered according to your party. There, each official in charge will explain the details of the assignment asked of you and give out advance payment that doubles also as your expenses fee. -Yes, you over there. What is it?”
“From what you say, there seems to be all sorts of work available, and seeing how we’ve each got our own talents and strengths I guess I’m wond’ring if it’s true we don’t get to choose ourselves.”
The combatant with his fist in the air, spoke out in a tone that half expected to find opposition, but voices of agreement rose up around him.
These were all people who knew first-hand how dangerous it was to be teamed up with comrades who didn’t co-operate when engaged in a life-threatening situation.
“Our ultimate aim is to invite exceptional individuals as vassals into our service; we do not intend to act as your employment office. We would instead like you to consider this a test of our officials. Should any of you become our vassal, you shall refrain from mentioning aloud any dissent against your liege’s orders.”
“Well, the easy-going life of a mercenary for hire suits me just fine. I wouldn’t be a governing official even if you paid me. I just don’t want to have some lousy crap dumped on me all ‘cause of what you decided. If I’m not happy with what I get, I’m making it clear now that I won’t do it.”
The official began turning red in the face at Douma’s devil-may-care attitude, but laughter and applause filled the chamber.
Each and every mercenary was extremely proud, depending solely on themself and their ability to traverse the land.
“…Of course, you have the right to turn down what we offer. Recruitment for new members shall be initiated when and when vacancies occur, so you are free to refuse the assignment in anticipation of an opening position. In return, we shall not interfere whatsoever even you are unable to procure a single assignment so please take note.”
The last sentence gave out nothing but the opposite effect of the first, and its threatening undertone put Arkanjur in a grim mood as he cast his sight over to the wall where the young boy had been.
It may have been the case that the youth had only moved to a place where he could hear the official’s voice better, but unable to find him, Arkanjur felt a slight disappointment.
A female mercenary he recognised raised her hand and was invited to speak.
“I wanna decide if I’m gonna join anywhere that’s got a place open, could you tell us what there is?”
The question must have been expected. The aide took out a sheet of parchment and started reading aloud.
“The subjugation of the evil magician Badou. The search for the royal household’s Divine Sword Wyhazaam stolen by thieves. The subjugation of the giant serpent Karos. Guard duty for the wedding of the Nineteenth Princess, Princess Victoria. The assassination of the Head of the Evil God Isack Religion. The rescue of the Twenty-Second Princess, Princess Marcia, kidnapped by thieves. The quest to find the legendary city of Fiona. The search for relics of the Saint Queen. The extermination of monsters appearing on the Kingdom’s border. The search-and-destroy mission of former-vassal guerrilla forces of our merged neighbouring kingdom of Iwate-ken. The quest to find the miracle herb that induces-“
There seemed to be no end.
The large-framed mercenary and the handsome former holy knight exchanged glances.
“So basically, we got absolutely all the troublesome stuff the Royal Family want to throw at us to pick and choose from.”
“Proof if any is needed that the larger the country, the greater the number of problems to arise.”
“Isn’t it enough to just let the servants deal with all that crap.”
“In a war where one side seeks to invade the other, the troops should be fairly fatigued. Rather than dispatching vassals with personal commitments and responsibilities, they must have thought using mercenaries was a more certain and simpler means to an end.”
“Hmph. Even I’ve got five or ten women who’d cry over me if I was dead and gone.”
“Lamenting over the drinking tab you’d left behind, no doubt?”
“…… You bastard.” Douma growled through bared teeth at his friend’s joke, then looked downwards suspiciously.
Before the young man could ask what the matter was, a question was directed at him from the side.
“Your name?”
Glancing down at the source of the curt words, it was the youth whose gaze he’d met earlier.
Wavy black hair tied into a small ponytail, he was a whole head and a half shorter than the young man and carried a sword so immense it looked completely at odds with him.
He asked again in a more formal tone.
“What’s your name?”
“When asking for someone’s name, were you not taught it’s only polite to name yourself, first, boy.”
“Uranborg.”
“I’m Arkanjur. So, what business do you have with me, I wonder.”
“Are you a woman?”
He was so taken aback by the sudden question asked with a perfectly straight face that he forgot his anger in a daze.
Douma burst into a fit of laughter behind him.
“Kid. You’re trying to say this guy’s as hot as any girl, right? But you’re kinda lacking in the height and age department there. He may be as thin and pretty as a girl, but he sure packs a punch. It’d be just a little difficult for you to push him down unless you’re about as tall as I am.”
“Douma.”
Despising such talk, even in jest, Arkanjur shot out a fearsome glare.
“I’ve met many women whom I thought were good-looking, but I think you’re even more beautiful. So it would be more accurate for me to say you’re more beautiful than any woman.”
The former holy knight rammed an elbow into his friend’s side, who was doubled up laughing, then looked down on the youngster with a bemused expression.
“I can’t say I’m glad to hear that, however I’ll take it as a compliment and give you my thanks.”
“You have the blood of the Saint Queen flowing in you.”
It wasn’t a question but a statement. The young man verified it readily.
“Yes. I’m an illegitimate son of the Kanagawa line annihilated by Tokyo-to. I’ve heard that I’m the sixteenth male heir. Though I should tell you that members of her bloodline aren’t especially rare. Douma’s one, and there should be quite a number just in here.”
“You said it. With me, I think it was my Grandpa on my Dad’s side and Nana on my Mum’s side who said they were related to the Wakayama royal family. The number’s come down now, but just a while back there were forty-seven countries. And in every family there was always some loose bastard who couldn’t help chasing after every skirt he saw. The King too, he needs about twenty, thirty children to be used for political marriages.”
The youth was silent as he listened but now as he furrowed his brows gave the very first trace of an expression about his face.
“How the Saint Queen’s line has fallen.”
“Too right. As one of her descendants, I don’t know how I can face her when she was the one who split the world and all that.”
Nodding seriously in agreement over the words he knew the gentle giant only half meant, the former holy knight cast his eye over the youth.
The fall of the Saint Queen’s descendants into degradation hadn’t begun yesterday. In every kingdom you went to, visit the Capital and you’d find youngsters chanting ditties listing acts of the royal family’s debauchery and immorality.
Every soldier for hire needed to have a feel for the situation in each country and assess any threats to one’s own safety.
And as a mercenary it was easy to brush these songs off as only sung by young children who didn’t know any better, but Arkanjur could sense the strength of the boy’s anger and sorrow from the short sentence and despite himself, was drawn to this youngster with hidden depths.
However his large friend interjected before he could speak up.
“Shh. They’ve started calling the names. Asking them again afterwards is more trouble than it’s worth so listen up.”
A white-aproned girl was handing out something shiny to the fighters lining up to come into the hall.
“That’s one drink per coin, one free drink per coin! Any more drinks and refreshments will have to be ordered separately, thank you! Please remember to take the chit with you when you pay afterwards.”
Douma looked at the insignia on the medallion handed out by the Miyagi royal family and sighed loudly.
“I dunno… The Miyagi family’s set up a tavern inside the palace just to make a bunch of pennies out of us mercenaries. It’s so pathetic I don’t even have the heart to argue. The Saint Queen must be crying her eyes out on the other side.”
A serving-girl who was passing by at that moment heard Douma’s weak complaint and corrected him with pursed lips.
“Come on, that’s a bit harsh. This place is a refect’ry for ev’ryone who’s workin’ in the palace and’s cheaper than what they offer down in the city, I can tell yer. They say yer get a lot of meat for yer money and it even tastes good on top of that. Big hit with them visitors on the Castle Tour, very popular.”
“Castle Tour?”
“That’s right. Twice a day on weekdays at three and five. Restdays they add one at a ten o’clock. Set you back ten wayn and comes with a guide book. Bargain. Why don’t yer stick around and try going on one yerself to see what the fuss is all about, Mister.”
The girl cunningly worked some publicity under her chatty tone then hurried away, both hands gripping a tankard of beer each.
The large fellow was left muttering something under his breath.
“Aristocrat born with a silver spoon in their mouth… Living the high life of society’s elite…”
“I can practically envisage your dream shattering into pieces. It’s all very well harbouring a secret ambition, but you’d best keep in mind that it’s much harder work keeping money than making it. Well, at any rate, I’d be grateful if you didn’t stop dead in your tracks. There’re people waiting behind us.”
By good fortune Arkanjur had been put in the same party as Douma and he chastised him gently.
They headed into the room they’d been directed to enter, which was squashed full with tables and chairs though its dimension were on the same magnitude as the atrium they’d been waiting.
It was quite an alarming sight to witness this intimidating, roguish band of men yelling inaudibly amongst themselves as the din of the crowd drinking, feasting and making merry grew steadily louder.
Yet the serving-girls paid the racket no mind and went about their chaotic workload with a smile.
The hard selling ladies led various men by the nose, and weak against the sight of young damsels working gallantly they ended up ordering extra food and drink.
“I dunno about this. I’ve got the feeling we’re being duped somehow……”
“Douma, over there. Number fifty three.”
Three people were already sitting at the table with the number fifty three placard.
One was a girl of around fifteen with chestnut brown hair combed into two loose plaits. It was unfortunate that the freckles on her slim, plain face showed up the better for the whiteness of her skin.
Another was a middle-aged cleric clothed in an ochre robe. He wasn’t particularly tall, but his stature was unusually well-built for a cleric and his note was flattened like a martial artist’s. His hairline receded around the temples and his blond hair was neatly cut and tied halfway down his back.
The remaining fellow had a sharp impression befitting his position as an official. He’d rolled up the parchment in his hands and was tapping the table with his fingers thereby venting his internal frustration.
“That bastard. Looks to me he’s letting off a bit steam as he waits for ‘the likes’ of us bloody mercenaries, I’ll wager.”
“Keep your temper. We only have to put up with him for a short time. You wouldn’t want to waste your chances at this assignment now that you finally have any work.”
The handsome former holy knight soothed his large friend with a light clap on the back, placation that the official ruined with his irritable, reedy voice.
“ 'Thunderclap' Douma and 'Lightning Bolt' Arkanjur, I believe. If you take a seat we can proceed with business, and enough of the idle chit-chat if you please - I’ve been kept waiting long enough.”
“If you’re pissed off for hanging about waiting so long, why don’t you try telling that to your superior who saw fit to place us in the very last party.”
“The only issue I have is with your attitude. What’s happened to the last member, 'Crimson' Uranborg?’
A small figure stepped out of the shadow of the large man, where he’d been completely hidden from view.
Douma wondered why the juvenile had the ill-fitting alias of "Crimson," when he was dressed head-to-toe all in black, even down to the sheath of his gigantic sword.
Mercenary epithets were in the first place almost always created without the individual’s knowledge. Once colleagues began to address you with the handle, you knew you were a fully-fledged mercenary, and once employers began to know you by the title you could consider yourself first-class.
But Douma, who prided himself on his information network, had never heard of the youth.
Still, so long as he was a champion of the Fighting Tournament, and nominated for the same party then there shouldn’t be a need to question his abilities.
Black hair was common among southern people, but his pale skin without a trace of sunburn was reminiscent of natives from the northern lands.
His mastery of swordsmanship in the face of his youth required his training to have begun from an early age. Having said that, it was difficult to imagine him born into a knightly lineage with the importance they placed on etiquette when his brusque speech lacked such gentility.
Douma made the general guess that he might be from a powerful clan based far from the capital. It made sense that they would zealously train of boy of theirs into a warrior and focusing on his military competency, send him off to be a mercenary soldier as further education.
Musing over the boy’s true identity, Douma heard the young official’s earlier rude remarks with half an ear and let it wash over him like water off a duck’s back.
Aware of his friend’s personality and seating himself between the official and Douma, who hated being belittled by bureaucrats, Arkanjur was initially relieved at his composure.
However, fierce backlash emerged from an unexpected source.
All positioned evenly at the round six-person table, the youth seated opposite the official silently pushed his chair back before jumping onto the table the next moment.
“Call Ruvangar,” the young boy said as he looked down expressionlessly at the official, one foot bearing down on his chest.
The official’s chair angled backwards sharply, balancing on the hind legs, and only avoided the humiliating sight of him tipping over on the floor as his knees were in the way, pressed against the underside of the table.
The adolescent repeated the name he’d uttered again to the official rendered speechless by the violence of the act.
“Call Ruvangar here. If you intend to keep this ridiculous farce going I’ll cut your head off right here and go back.”
“H-How dare you refer to our esteemed Chancellor by name, you lowly mercenary!”
A wave of quiet from the group’s table rippled outwards.
The youth was serious. Without batting an eyelid, his left hand reached for the sword handle of the gigantic weapon held in his right.
Arkanjur had realised the juvenile was left-handed from when he carried the huge sword on his back, and whilst he thought he had to stop him from pointlessly killing someone for naught, was for some reason captivated by the calm face of the boy.
Thinking his former holy knight friend would step in to mediate Douma sat back but noticing his vacant air hurriedly rose to his feet.
But before Douma could do anything, the resounding voice of an old man stopped the adolescent's movements in his tracks.
“Uranborg-sama!”
The elderly man with a wealth of white hair and a beard that extended all the way down his chest, cut a hasty path through the narrow gaps between the tables.
“Has this man said anything offensive to you, perchance?”
The girl in plaits answered on behalf of the youth.
“Don’t you give me that ‘perchance?’ He was all, ‘As one the Miyagi family’s vassals I’m deeply unwilling to allow such nuisances as mercenary soldiers to perform such important tasks.’ and saying stuff like ‘oh, you lowly mercenaries.’ I mean, seriously, who in their mind would accept the job when a guy talks condescendingly down to you, dresses it up as some all-important mission and obviously hates your guts? I cannot believe it.”
“You have my most sincere apologies. I left instructions to keep pleasant company as I made my way here, but it seems I have not impressed the gravity of the matter enough for it to pass down the ranks - thus leading to this situation where I was called for. I offer you my deepest apologies.”
The elderly man’s last few words were directed at the youth still with his foot pressing down on the official’s chest, and his gaze still firmly fixed on the official’s face.
Uranborg accepted the apology without a word and jumped off the table.
“Chancellor……”
“You complete nincompoop! How could you be so rude towards this gentleman who defeated that creature!”
“You mean that sphinx……!”
The immediate mercenaries overheard every word of the young official and went into an uproar, shouting exclamations of astonishment in unison.
“The legendary mythical beast hunter! Amazing, it’s the first time I’ve laid eyes on him!”
“If you’re talking about sphinxes, they’re pretty big game when it comes to mythical beasts. Are you trying to telling me that little rascal there took one out?”
“If not, then go figure why the hell the Chancellor of Miyagi, of the Three Great Kingdoms, himself, is greeting them in person, you dozy bugger.”
It wasn’t just the mercenaries, but the serving-girls and even some officials at nearby tables trying to catch a glimpse, and the youth gave the elderly man a look that told him to hurry up and sit down.
The elderly nobleman, known as the secret backbone behind the exemplary government of Miyagi, uttered his apologies for the disturbance and asked them to return to their affairs.
“Yo, kid. Is it true - did you really defeat a sphinx?”
The youth nodded simply under Douma’s clearly amused stare.
“That’s just rich! We’ll be the strongest party ever.”
“We formed the party with that intention, 'Thunderclap' Douma. And, 'Lightning Bolt' Arkanjur."
“I’m often asked to eradicate undead monsters, but I’m afraid I haven’t much experience when it comes to mythical beasts. Only orcs and lycanthropes.”
“With me it’s ogres and centaurs. We defeated them somehow, but there were a few casualties in our group. Sphinx-level mythical beasts aren’t exactly something you go around asking to eliminate. Is our job just gonna be guarding this kid?”
“This party was formed not with the intention of having individuals compete for top position, but to co-operate and work together as a group to eliminate mythical beasts.”
The Chancellor selected his reply carefully, making sure it honoured the self-respect of a first-rate mercenary.
One thousand years had passed since the world was divided in two. During that time, there were two great insurgences bloody enough to upset the balance between worlds causing mythical beasts to appear on the surface.
The previous upheaval was now around three hundred and fifty years ago, but tales of the hunter who accepted elimination requests of the mythical beasts at the time were still being passed down today.
He was legendary based partially on the whole enterprise of the rare mythical beasts, which were challenging to exterminate, as well as a testing endeavour to protect and support their extraction from this world.
Douma turned his eyes, obscured by bushy eyebrows, to the youth.
“Kid. Are you seriously the legendary mythical beast hunter?”
“I don’t know about any legend. The only reason I’m here is to remove all mythical beasts from this world.”
Depending on one’s interpretation, he made light of an extremely arrogant statement. But his collected air made it seem natural, despite his young looks.
Resting his chin on his elbows, Douma gave a short hoot of laughter at the boy’s calm response.
“Looks like you’re the real deal. I’ll keep my expectations high then. Leave the rest to us and you can concentrate on taking care of those creatures.”
“That does seem to give us the best odds,” agreed the handsome male.
The freckled girl clapped her hands together.
“I’m so impressed by you two, what can I say!. How you don’t let your pride get in the way is the true mark of a first-rate pro. I’m Claudia. My specialty’s with the bow and I can use the four major spirit magic up to the first level. I’ll pull my weight in the team too so let’s get along.”
The Chancellor introduced the middle-aged cleric who was maintaining a modest silence.
“This person’s here is Gais, and he used to work in the palace as a guard until he entered the priesthood. His prowess at martial arts is particularly excellent and he can use holy magic as well as some supportive attack spirit magic and thus I believe can work well in both offensive and defensive roles. I’ve already communicated all necessary information on the assignment regarding the mythical beasts to Gais. You can hear the amount of your reward fee and other details through him at a later date.”
“Then why’d you come here us to see yourself? If it was anything important you could’ve even called us out to someplace else.”
“Considering we are asking you to take on hazardous endeavours relating to the kingdom’s welfare, it is only right that I come out to greet you. On behalf on His Majesty, I have been commanded to convey his warmest regards to you all.”
The elderly gentleman known as the esteemed Chancellor placed his right hand over a balled fist, brought it up to eye level and bowed his head. **
People watching them out of the corner of their eye couldn’t believe what they were seeing when they witnessed the Chancellor performing the high form of gratitude.
“My Lord Chancellor. Please, stop such behaviour. We already appreciate your efforts to thank us, but your actions will only make us stand out, I’m afraid.”
“Some more won’t kill us, I guess,” sighed Douma as he wiped a congenial smile from his face and stared at the kindly face of the Chancellor.
“This doesn’t really have much to do with the job but tell me one thing. Why is a revered and respected Chancellor, such as yourself, creating another massive upheaval by invading other countries and in the process bringing out these mythical beasts.”
“Thanks to good fortune, Miyagi-ken has been blessed with wealth and prosperity. However, beyond the invisible national borders, there are citizens suffering suppression under their government and who flee to our country one after the other. To prevent their escape, the military fortify national boundaries and stop all attempts by force. Rather than only our country flourishing and prospering, I want to save all the people I can, even if I must invade other nations to do so - I do not mind if you call me a hypocrite for thinking such thoughts.”
“Hmmmm. It’ll be the job of historians in the future to decide what to call you. Either way, these mythical beasts are a pain to everyone - and everywhere. Guess I’ll just have the bakery boy work hard for me. - Right, kiddo……”
Looking over his shoulder, Douma’s words trailed off.
The adolescent was tilting his head back to take a draught from a tankard of beer so large his entire head could fit inside.
The former holy knight’s frosty expression melted and he laughed out loud.
There was a hilarious contrast between the big man’s thunderstruck face and the indifferent youth who went on drinking, unperturbed.
“Between you and the boy, it seems we’d better prepare ourselves for a rather hefty drinking tab.”
His strikingly warm smile possessed an ethereal lustre, coupled with something like the brilliance of sunshine chasing away shadows.
Arkanjur was indeed such an amazingly beautiful man that the Chancellor looked at him in pure admiration.
The girl sitting across from him was mesmerised by his exquisite smile, but could not quite contain her inner anger at the injustice of the inequality between their appearances.
The Fighting Tournament had now closed amidst great cheers and applause and as the vast crowd of spectators dispersed, even the lively capital seemed somehow forlorn.
The party left the palace behind in search of mid-sized lodgings in the centre of town where they could spent the night.
Douma ended up heading the party due to his natural personality, and launched into conversation about their mission as soon as everybody had settled themselves comfortably in the large room the four men shared.
“I don’t trust that cunning old racoon. And unfortunately, I’m not naïve enough to be all happy about the Chancellor of a country bowing down to me. Let’s have you spit out the fine print of what we’re doing.”
Without rebuking Douma’s rude words about the Chancellor, the cleric accepted his invitation and started explaining.
“It’s unclear exactly which kind of mythical beasts, but we have two separate requests to eliminate them. One lies in Fukushima-ken and the other in Niigata-ken. Payment will come to a hundred thousand wayn per person, per request.”
Douma whistled. With that amount you could easily play around for ten years.
The juvenile mythical beast hunter and the former holy knight male were the only two whose expression didn’t change upon hearing the colossal amount of money involved.
Perhaps Claudia couldn’t get a feeling for the unrealistic figure as she wore a perplexed expression.
“I can’t comprehend it.”
Arkanjur spoke up.
“I’d understand if they asked us to eliminate mythical beasts appearing within the kingdom, but why on earth would they specify we go after creatures in countries they’re planning to attack and invade. Wouldn’t it work in their favour when the hostile country allocates troops to take care of them?”
“According to spy reports, both countries are keeping the beasts tamed with sacrifices, and training them to attack enemy forces. Something along the lines of a guardian deity, only it’s a guardian beast. Even with an army of expert soldiers, they’ll have to be prepared to take serious damage if they’re fighting against a mythical beast.”
“Taming mythical beasts with sacrifices? Perish the thought. The more powerful mythical beasts have human level intelligence, or higher. Such arrogance will receive its comeuppance.”
Arkanjur frowned in displeasure. Spoken in a rare harsh tone of voice, Uranborg followed up his conclusive words with, “Like Miyagi-ken.”
All heads turned towards the youth.
“…….I see. And so you were called to dispatch the sphinx.”
“I wasn’t called, but from the conclusion that’s what basically happened.”
“……Have you asked what they fed the creature?”
“At first it was imprisoned thieves, murderers and robbers. When they ran out, refugee beggars. In the end they didn’t know what to do, when I came along and killed him.”
Contradictory to the youth’s unemotional answer, the former holy knight was furious.
“What did he mean by, ‘I want to save citizens suffering under suppression in neighbouring countries!’ Forget hypocrite, he’s nothing more than filthy murderer! It disgusts me to know he’s called the esteemed Chancellor.”
Curiously, Douma reasoned coolly against Arkanjur’s rage.
“You can’t protect a kingdom on half-boiled determination alone. I think the old geezer’s ideal wasn’t a lie. Miyagi-ken’s governed pretty fairly. You won’t be able to turn ideals ‘nto reality if you can’t handle a few sacrifices here and there. The old guy’s at least got an ideal behind what he’s pursuing.”
“Unfortunately, I’m a mere mercenary - not the Chancellor of a country. And I have no desire to keep a mythical beast to the extent that I would feed it humans.”
Abandoning himself to anger, Arkanjur’s icy tone and behaviour gave a more haughty impression than normal, but the noble chord he struck was compelling.
-Beautiful people sure have it easy~.
Claudia pushed the bitter thought to the back of her mind, and with a bright smile began to placate everyone.
“Now, now. Let’s not argue about stuff outside of work. Anyway! We just have to go to some country and kill a bunch of mythical beasts. That way, there’ll be no sacrifices, Miyagi-ken’s soldiers won’t be killed and we’ll each get a hundred thousand wayn. Sounds pretty good, right? Right?”
“-Between Fukushima and Niigata, which army’s stronger?”
Asked a sudden question by the adolescent, the cleric replied after a moment’s pause.
“That would be Niigata. They have a heavy cavalry brigade.”
“Then we’re going to Niigata first.”
“E~eh? Why~? Fukushima’s so much nearer.”
“Neither of them know we’re after the mythical beasts so it’ll be easier to infiltrate. Both countries are currently focused on Miyagi’s movements, but once we take care of one side’s mythical beasts, the remaining country will be on higher alert. We take care of the troublesome one first.”
Once he’d finished explaining his analysis to the dissatisfied girl, the youth then brought up a new topic.
“You’re a descendant of the Saint Queen.”
“Eh? …… Oh, yeah, I guess. But well, there’s a lot of them around. Why’d you-”
“Her blood runs strong in you. It might not be strange for royalty repeating political marriages among distant relatives, but for a commoner it’s surprisingly rare.”
“Look, just cut it out, alright! What are you trying to get at? What do you even know about me that gives you the right to say that?”
There was something unnatural about how Claudia railed at the youth that only served to underline his words.
Douma folded his arms and hummed.
“The princess of a destroyed country? We don’t want to get involved with talk of revenge and all that.”
“That’s not it! I’m the champion of the Bow Division that I won fair and square! I’ve even completed five mercenary assignments!”
“You mean, only five. Probably not enough experience for a big job like this one, eliminating mythical beasts.”
“What are you being so difficult for! I was chosen as one of the members of this party so I’m coming along too. If you say I’ll be in the way, then when the time comes you’re free to abandon me and just leave me behind.”
Just when it seemed the image of the girl snapping shrilling at the large man stroking his chin solemnly would go on indefinitely-
“……Douma-dono. I shall take responsibility for the Princess, and I implore you to allow her continued accompaniment as a fellow member of the party.”
“Don’t say any more!”
Claudia scolded Gais hotly for his hesitant request.
Arkanjur recalled the cleric’s past resume as a palace guard.
“I see. So Claudia’s a princess of the Miyagi family……”
“If she’s a princess from the Miyagi family then she can live without a care in the world. What are you doing, playing at being a mercenary ‘cause you feel like it? Look, Princess. Being a mercenary's a……”
“Stop lecturing me like you know everything, "Swift Lightning" Douma! I know what you’re about to say, already. I’ve heard it all before, my ears are sore from hearing it so much.”
Changing her tone to a more formal one, the girl in loose plaits silenced the large man with a quiet intensity previously unheard in her voice.
“In political marriages, the lineage of your parents means everything. My father is the King of Miyagi and my mother is his fourth wife. It would be widely agreed that she married into a good station, and they’re a well-suited match. But what meaning does pedigree hold? If I’d been born a beautiful, feminine daughter like my elder sisters, then like them, I might have married and lived in matrimonial happiness forever after. But supposing my husband’s heart is already taken and so incapable of loving a person like one of my sisters, I must still live a closed, kept life shut away in the palace ‘til the day I die. You want to say, ‘Think of the girls in the street dying of hunger or killed by the ravages of war.’ But, unable to participate in politics, or join the army like my elder brothers, my life is in name only as I can do nothing under my own free will. Since I was a child, I sought out the time to practise my bow and arrow, and not only improved my horse-riding but looked after the horses as well. I made myself learn various life skills so I could get on in the world, no matter how much people laughed at me or called me peculiar. I've won the Fighting Tournament and when I successfully complete this assignment to eliminate the mythical beasts, my arranged marriage will be absolved and I’ll be allowed to leave the royalty. So no matter what you say, I’m coming along with you.”
There seemed to be no lie in her words, which she rounded off in a determined, clipped tone.
Her worn leather shirt hugged its familiar contours of her slim body.
“What’d ya think we should do?,” queried Douma. The former holy knight was mildly incensed at Douma sly effort of forcing his own decision onto him.
“If you’re that resolved, I see no problem. However, we shall not be giving you any special treatment. And if anything should happen to you, I’d like to have some kind of insurance that we shall not be held to account.”
“……Nothing to worry about in that case. I have the joint signatures of my Father and Ruvangar on a document I had them draw up in case my identity was bust. I’ve sewn it into the underside of this leather shirt so just take it if I die. - Ma-an, why’d I get found out this quickly? So maddening. Just who are you?
Claudia gave the adolescent a poke with her elbow, but his black eyes were looking up at Arkanjur.
Realising for the first time the beauty and depths founds in the dark hue, the young man was spellbound for a split instant.
“Blood emits its own energy. Relations all have a similar kind of energy. I’m particularly attune to the bloodline of the Saint Queen.”
Breaking off his words for a moment, Uranborg continued in a calm yet weighty tone of voice.
“-The Saint Queen bloodline is special to me.”
Douma replied, apparently impressed, “The mythical beast hunter’s got a weird ability, that’s for sure. We’re counting on you, kid. Now, then. Let’s get cracking with all the stuff we’ll need for Niigata.”
“Oh. If it’s pack food, I know a cheap place to get it from.”
“Great. Then we’ll let you lead the way. Gais, you said you were given the expenses money, right?”
It was hard to imagine that just a short while earlier these two people were arguing over whether they’d be members of the same party, but now their conversation was completely engrossed in details of the mission.
Douma held the palm of his hand out impatiently towards the cleric, who hurriedly opened the mouth of the cloth purse tied round his neck.
-End of Chapter 1-
Notes:-
* As is pretty obvious in the English, the names of the countries (all of them from what I can recall) are pronounced the same as the provinces of Japan. But! None of them are spelt the same way as their real-life counterparts, and in the story, the province suffixes are replaced with nonsensical kanji that shares the same sound as the real-life province suffixes allowing for a touch of ironic familiarity especially since descriptions of their location point to the same layout in real-life. In other words, the 'countries' in the story and certain provinces of Japan share the same sound but are spelt completely differently. Some of them are actually very picturesque - I might write out an explanation sometime.
** This kind of bow is often used in martial arts, check out a Chinese historical drama for the best examples. ^^
Please feel free to make any suggestions to the text, point out errors or ask for better clarity etc.
*(^ ^)*