The Champion's Return Read online

  Chapter 7

  A fierce civil war followed the death of Rolmund’s emperor, Bahazoff the Fourth. That war, which had been started by the emperor’s nephew, Prince Ivan, was now known as the Doneiks Rebellion. I’d taken part in the war as one of Eleora’s generals, and had somehow managed to steer the outcome into a victory for Prince Ashley. However, considering how many people died in this needless conflict, I couldn’t really be happy about the results. The only thing I was proud of was rescuing Ivan’s brother, Woroy, and his son, Ryuunie, and delivering them safely to Meraldia. Even so, I was worried that if these bloody conflicts continued, I’d lose my human conscience and become a werewolf in body and soul. Of course, I loved my werewolf comrades, but when all was said and done, I was still human. In fact, it was because I was human on the inside that I’d managed to make it this far. I wanted to hold on to my humanity if possible.

  Those were the thoughts whirling around in my head as I made my way through the tunnel back to Rolmund. Upon reaching Eleora’s fortress, I dropped off the supplies I’d brought with me from Meraldia, and stationed a few civil officers who’d come with me from Krauhen there. They’d serve as messengers between me and the Commonwealth Council. Once all that was sorted out, I headed back to the imperial capital with Ryucco and my werewolves.

  “Gods blast it. I’m freezing. No one told me it was gonna be this bloody cold.”

  As we rode in our carriage, Ryucco looked reproachfully up at me, shivering in his seat. After a few seconds of consideration, I responded, “Larger animals can deal with the cold better. Doubling something’s height only quadruples its surface area, but multiplies the amount of warm blood, fat, and tissue it can have by eight.”

  This was the same reason larger pots of stew took longer to cool than small ones.

  “I ain’t asking for a science lecture here! Though that is useful to know...thanks for the tip, Veight.”

  Still shivering, Ryucco brought out a notepad and wrote what I said down. I handed him a small children’s coat I’d bought in one of the villages we passed through and started explaining our strategy.

  “I’ll handle all the politics and diplomacy, so you start analyzing all the magical technology Rolmund’s developed.”

  “You got it.”

  “Oh, and one more thing.”

  “Yeah?”

  Ryucco pulled the coat’s fluffy hood over his head and gave me a questioning look.

  “I want you to study the empire’s history and traditions and copy it all down for me.”

  “Sure, I can do that. But why do you want their history?”

  “The old Meraldian Senate tried to bury a lot of the region’s history. We’re missing some important details that I hope Rolmund’s records can shed light on.”

  Meraldia’s historical records didn’t have any information on the things I was most curious about—namely the histories of past Heroes and Demon Lords, as well as any mentions of past reincarnators. Rolmund’s histories went back centuries further than Meraldia’s so I was hoping they might have some anecdotes.

  “Draulight, for example.”

  “You mean the northern city?”

  Draulight, the city of peaks, did indeed sit on Meraldia’s northern tip. Ryucco was at least familiar with the name, it seemed. There was a very specific reason I was interested in that city.

  “The truth is, in Rolmund, Draulight’s the name of one of their Heroes.”

  Depending on who you asked, he was either known as the Slave Swordsman, or the Rebel Hero. Supposedly, he was the one who’d emancipated Rolmund’s slaves and led them to Meraldia, where they formed a new nation. It was because of his actions that the old republic in Rolmund eventually crumbled, and was replaced by the imperial system. His actions had led to a period of great turmoil in Rolmund, so he wasn’t looked fondly upon by history. That was why, despite the magnitude of his achievements, there weren’t too many records of his life and deeds in Rolmund. Ryucco pulled his vegetable case out of his pocket as he nodded along to my explanation.

  “Want a puff?”

  “Thanks.”

  I selected a stick of dried burdock and chewed on it thoughtfully. Ryucco took a carrot stick for himself and looked out the carriage window.

  “Heroes are a real threat, that’s for sure... Last thing we want is Master ending up like the last Demon Lord.”

  “Yeah, Master’s not invincible. If she had to fight someone as strong as a Hero even she wouldn’t come out unscathed.”

  That was certainly one of my worries. But another big reason I wanted to investigate this was because I wanted to know if the old Demon Lord had been reincarnated again. After all, if he’d been reincarnated once, it was feasible that it could happen again. And if he had, I needed to know where he’d gone. Of course, I realized this was wishful thinking and that the chances of him being reincarnated were exceedingly low. But even so, I wanted to have hope.

  “I had Kite chronicling the empire’s history before, so you can just take over where he left off. He’ll investigate all the promising leads when we get back, so you don’t have to dig too deep.”

  “Alright, should be a piece of cake. Looks like my magic’s gonna come in handy after all.”

  Ryucco pulled his bag closer to him and opened it. Inside was a vast space far larger than the dimensions of the bag. I’d christened the bag “Ryucco’s Rucksack,” though I only called it that in my head. Meraldian didn’t have a word for knapsack that alliterated with Ryucco’s name, so it wouldn’t sound clever to anyone else.

  Ryucco was a space mage, meaning he could bend dimensions. However, he was only skilled at manipulating the space in his vicinity, which meant he couldn’t teleport. This was mostly because instead of actually calculating spatial coordinates, he relied on his lagomorph instincts to cast spells. Because of how wary lagomorphs were by nature, they were always keeping an eye on their immediate surroundings. As a result, they had an intrinsic grasp of the area around them.

  Ryucco finished his carrot and pulled a daikon stick out of his case next. As he started chewing on it, he said, “I’ll grab every interesting magical gizmo Rolmund’s got, don’t you worry.”

  “Just don’t go overboard, okay?”

  If you start stealing state secrets we’ll have a diplomatic crisis on our hands. I was a little jealous of Ryucco’s massive inventory of magical items, though. Thanks to his spatial magic, he could even reduce their weight, making them easier to carry around in his knapsack. Maybe I should start learning space magic too... Though I guess as a werewolf mage, the only items I’d really need to carry around are spare clothes. I probably wouldn’t be able to make efficient use of space magic, really.

  We spotted a few suspicious people tailing us on the way to the capital, but I didn’t want to make a scene, so I let them be. If, as I suspected, they were Bolshevik spies, capturing them would do more harm than good. I had my werewolves keep an eye on them, but once we neared the capital they vanished. I have a bad feeling about this.

  Soon enough, we reached Rolmund’s capital.

  “I grew excited when I heard a fellow disciple would be joining us here in Rolmund, and yet...” Parker heaved a momentous sigh. “To think it would be you of all people, Ryucco!”

  “Shut it, skullface! Why don’t you put some meat on your bones, huh!?”

  “I can’t, whatever I eat just falls out of my mouth!”

  “That’s cause you don’t have a throat, fool!”

  Ryucco guffawed heartily while Parker picked him up and hugged him. Every one of Master’s disciples were problem children in one way or another, but now the worst of the lot had all gathered in one place. That assessment included me too, of course. Well, Melaine’s not around to s
cold us so I guess we can be as silly as we want here. With Ryucco still in his arms, Parker turned toward me.

  “Oh yes, there’s something important I need to tell you. Lord Bolshevik wants to meet with you.”

  “With me?”

  Now that’s a surprise.

  Parker repeated himself, with added emphasis, “Yes, you. Not Eleora.”

  “Hmmm.”

  What could the esteemed Lord Bolshevik want with a boring old vice-commander like me? Parker added, “You may not have been part of the most critical battle that won this war, but without you, Eleora would have lost. Plus, you rescued Woroy and Ryuunie and sent them to Meraldia. My guess is that Lord Bolshevik is afraid of you.”

  “Well, I did make quite the scene. Alright, let’s see what he has to say.”

  I was pretty curious what his motives were myself. Besides, I had a little unfinished business with the Bolshevik family.

  After greeting Eleora, I headed straight to the Bolshevik manor in the capital. I announced my arrival, and was ushered into the main hall, which was empty save for a single young man. I doubted the owner of the manor would be waiting for me in the hall like this, so I surmised he wasn’t Lord Bolshevik. But judging by how well-dressed he was, I doubted he was a servant either. He was a noble of some kind, I was pretty sure. From the way he carried himself, I could tell he was a soldier, too. Which means... Ah, I know who he is now. This was Lord Bolshevik’s younger brother, Jovtzia. It had taken me a while to remember that name because of how difficult it was to pronounce. I stepped forward, and the young man gave me a hostile glare.

  “Welcome to the Bolshevik Manor. Are you Lord Veight?”

  “I am indeed. And you are?”

  I wasn’t sure I’d memorized his name correctly, so I decided to play it safe and have him introduce himself.

  The young man puffed his chest out proudly and said, “I am Lord Bolshevik’s younger brother, Jovtzia Worbern Bolshevik.”

  “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am Veight Gerun Friedensrichter.”

  I gave my full name and bowed to Jovtzia. Despite my courteous introduction, Jovtzia’s gaze remained hostile.

  “Why did you exile Woroy to Meraldia? As his cousin and his sworn friend, I have a right to know what plans you have for him.”

  Suddenly a group of butlers and servants rushed into the main hall. They must have been watching from somewhere discreet.

  “Master Jovtzia, you’re being rude to our guest!”

  “Lord Bolshevik will be furious if he finds out, Young Master!”

  From Jovtzia’s point of view, I’d chased Woroy out of his homeland. Not only would Jovtzia never be able to see Woroy again, but he didn’t even know if the prince was safe or not. Of course, a little critical thinking would have made it obvious that if I was Woroy’s enemy, I would have just executed him. However, it was clear Jovtzia was too upset to think clearly. Also, it was theoretically possible I’d had him exiled just so I could kill him quietly without causing a scene. Jovtzia’s worry was understandable. You’ve got some good friends, Woroy.

  Smiling, I walked toward Jovtzia. I only stopped once we were so close there wasn’t even enough space for us to draw our swords. Since he was standing with his back to the wall, it looked like I was cornering him. I grabbed Jovtzia by the collar and hoisted him off his feet. In the brief moment it took for him to recover from his shock, I took a letter out of my pocket.

  “I have no obligation to tell you anything.”

  But I will give you this. Confused, Jovtzia looked down at the letter in my hand. When he saw the words “To my masochistic friend” written in a hasty scrawl on the envelope, his eyes went wide. Woroy had written this letter for Jovtzia when he was leaving Rolmund. In fact, he’d written letters to all of his close friends. I thought back to the conversation I’d had with him.

  “I bet they’re all worried about me. If possible, could you deliver these letters to them? I’ve asked them all to help you too.”

  Jovtzia scrutinized the wax seal on the envelope for a few seconds, then nodded to himself. When he looked back up at me his expression was serious again, but the hostility was gone.

  “...Very well.”

  Careful not to let the servants see what I was doing, I slipped the letter into Jovtzia’s pocket while still holding him by the lapels. The people to whom these letters were addressed would easily be able to tell they really were from Woroy just by reading them. At least, that’s what Woroy had said. I gave Jovtzia a brief smile, then put him down and straightened his collar.

  “Excuse me. We’ll meet again sometime.”

  Jovtzia nodded silently, then bowed and ran off. He probably wanted to read his friend’s letter as soon as possible. I turned back to the watching servants and gave them a wan smile.

  “Where can I find Lord Bolshevik?”

  “Ah, please come this way, my lord.”

  Relieved that the altercation between me and Jovtzia was over, the servants hurriedly led me up the stairs to the second floor. Now then, what kind of person is Jovtzia’s older brother?

  As I sat down on the parlor’s sofa, a well-dressed young man walked into the room. He looked to be in his mid-twenties, and wise beyond his years. But at the same time, he seemed oddly laid back.

  “My apologies for making you wait when I was the one who extended this invitation. I am the current head of the Bolshevik family, Shallier Worbern Bolshevik.”

  Lord Bolshevik flashed me a winsome smile, his tone polite. He reminded me of a used car salesman. I could tell from his scent that he didn’t have an iota of respect for me, nor did he like me in the slightest. He had the stench of an enemy. Feigning ignorance, I got to my feet and greeted him with a smile.

  “It’s a pleasure to make your—”

  “Oh, please, don’t get up. There’s no need to be so formal.”

  The lord held out a hand and urged me back into my seat. On the surface, he was just playing the part of the gracious host, but I had a feeling that wasn’t why he’d interrupted me. There was no kindness behind his words. With my introduction cut short, I had no choice but to sit back down. I don’t like this guy. Still smiling, Lord Bolshevik sat down across from me.

  “It’s an honor to finally speak with you, Lord Veight. You’re even more impressive than the rumors claim.”

  Lord Bolshevik didn’t mean a word he said. From the looks of it, he was the complete opposite of his brother, Jovtzia. I decided to let him set the tone of the conversation, though I remained wary. Before continuing, Lord Bolshevik bowed his head to me.

  “I’m deeply grateful for the mercy you showed the Bolshevik family when we surrendered to you.”

  “I had nothing to do with that. Princess Eleora was responsible for your lenient treatment. I’m simply a foreigner who happened to get caught up in this civil war.”

  I tried to brush off his praise, but Lord Bolshevik just grinned and replied, “Oh no, it’s all thanks to you that this senseless war was brought to a close with minimum casualties on both sides.”

  “Senseless war? Are you not related to the Doneiks family by blood?”

  Lord Bolshevik shook his head.

  “That’s irrelevant. Regardless of our relation, it’s wrong for a noble to incite a war and send his peasants to their deaths for his own personal gain.”

  You’re not wrong, but you’re the last person I want to hear that from. That being said, I didn’t smell a lie from him, so his words were sincere at least. Lord Bolshevik added, “In the end, Ivan was killed while Woroy and Ryuunie were exiled to Meraldia. Personally, I think this is the best resolution we could have hoped for.”

  Again, you’re not wrong, but I don’t wanna hear it from you. But again, I didn’t smell a lie from him. Lord Bolshevik then closed his eyes and bowed to me again.

  “On behalf of the Bolshevik family, I sincerely thank you for saving Woroy and Ryuunie’s lives. You have my utmost gratitude.”

  What the hell?
That’s not a lie either? No, hang on. He might just be a sociopath. It was impossible to discern whether a sociopath was lying based on the smell of their sweat, since they didn’t have a conscience. Confused, I asked, “You’re thanking me even though it’s because of your surrender that the Doneiks family lost?”

  “Correct. My feelings do not always have to align with my decisions. As the head of the Bolshevik family, my duty is to ensure the safety of my people first and foremost.”

  Again, that was the right mindset to have for a noble. The Bolshevik family held a lot of land and influence within North Rolmund. In fact, before the arrival of the Doneiks family, they had been the most powerful noble family in this frigid land. Indeed, that was why the Doneiks family sought an alliance with the Bolsheviks to begin with. Eleora’s family, the Originias, had sought an alliance with the new but wealthy Kastoniev family for the same reason.

  However, the Bolsheviks had surrendered to Eleora while Ivan’s rebellion was still going on. The biggest factor in Ivan’s defeat was losing the support of his most powerful allies. Honestly, I was surprised Lord Bolshevik wasn’t ashamed of himself, but considering the same thing had happened dozens of times during the Warring States period, I could understand his decision. It was only because he’d surrendered so soon that his lands had gone unmolested. On top of that, his family was the only one in North Rolmund that hadn’t been punished in some way for their involvement in the civil war. I had no doubt that the other North Rolmund nobles resented Lord Bolshevik for that. Feeling a bit spiteful, I decided to needle him a bit.

  “As a result of your swift decision, your family didn’t lose any of their territory. But I wonder how the neighboring nobles feel about that.”

  “I imagine they’re not happy,” Lord Bolshevik replied nonchalantly. “But those families have all been ruined, so no matter how much they may hate me, there’s nothing they can do. All I did was fulfill my duty.”

  Ahh, this guy’s the ruthless type. I was starting to get a little scared of him. Still smiling, Lord Bolshevik added, “Supporters of Her Highness Princess Eleora will be granted most of North Rolmund’s lands, will they not? I simply wish to help them settle in here.”