Chapter 52 : Chapter 52
First Prince Duce sat in the council chamber of Rasseu Castle.
But to say he sat was generous.
Because of his hunched back, he was more perched upon the chair than seated, looking as if the slightest slip would send him tumbling.
Beside him, a knight in ornate regalia seemed to know this, watching Duce with constant concern.
“What reason could the young master of the pleasure district have for seeking out the Hunchback Prince?” Duce spoke in a theatrical tone.
The knight, accustomed to it, replied matter-of-factly.
“The Count suffered a great defeat at the hands of the Tusk Tribe, and the young master’s forces were decimated as well. His reason for coming to you now is obvious.”
“A comedy! To think he would ask this hunchback to lend him a hand!”
Duce surmised that Sevha sought a meeting to request his aid.
And so he sneered. At himself.
“No, a tragedy… To know one should be the first to extend a hand to those in need, yet a body such as this cannot perform so simple a task.”
At Duce’s self-reproach, the knight bit his lip in frustration.
Suddenly, the door was thrown open.
“What is this—!” the knight started to shout, questioning who would dare enter without leave.
But a member of the Blanc Knights guarding the door cried out first.
“The rightful heir of Blanc! It is Dan le Blanc!”
Duce looked past the door and down the hall. Sevha was approaching, accompanied by the sound of marching steps.
On his right came Eshu and the Blanc Knights.
On his left, Baren and the Hunters.
And directly behind him, Tataka and his Tusks.
“Ah…”
Watching Sevha walk so assuredly with such a varied following, Duce breathed a murmur of admiration.
“How I envy you…”
Sevha stopped before the council table and gave Duce a slight bow.
“Dan le Blanc. I have come to see First Prince Duce.”
He did not bother with a seat, getting straight to the point.
“I have arranged this meeting because I have a request. I would have the First Prince’s Knights aid us in defeating the Tusk Tribe.”
As expected, Duce’s knight responded at once. “Our role is only to protect the First Prince.”
“…Is that so? Come to think of it, though we have met a few times, we have never exchanged names.”
“An introduction is unnecessary. I am the Knight of Ornament to the First Prince. That title is sufficient.”
Sevha sensed the sincerity in the Knight of Ornament’s words.
He regarded Duce in a new light.
It’s a mystery, but his men are exceedingly loyal.
Sevha decided he needed to understand Duce better to achieve his goal.
“First Prince! Outside this very castle, countless knights and commoners are suffering! And you will simply stand by?” he said with an exaggerated flourish, as if Duce’s manner of speaking had infected him.
Duce retorted, “The affairs of the house should be handled by the master of the house.”
A princely answer, telling Sevha to deal with the territory’s problems himself.
Sevha replied immediately, “Which is why I am opening the door and welcoming you as my guest.”
“But there are two who claim to be master of this house. A guest has no right to choose between them.”
This time, a refusal to take sides between Sevha and the Count.
Sevha now guessed at Duce’s true thoughts.
His character makes him want to help, but his royal status prevents him from intervening rashly in the territory’s dispute.
Sevha immediately decided to use Duce’s nature against him.
“No reason you give can excuse you from saving those who must be saved now.”
Sevha slammed both hands on the table, locking gazes with Duce.
“If you heard someone’s agonized screams coming from inside a house, would you offer up all manner of excuses and simply be on your way?”
As Sevha appealed to his pity and prodded his guilt, Duce faltered.
Immediately after, Sevha let out a sigh as if in defeat and bowed his head low.
“My apologies. I have been rude. I, too, understand your situation. So… I will make a different request.”
Without raising his head, Sevha continued.
“I ask that you use your authority to arrange a place for negotiations with the Count. I will provide the location. A place where I, Your Highness, and the Count can all speak in safety.”
Sevha took a step back, offering a proposal that would assuage Duce’s guilt.
Duce considered it, then nodded.
“Thank you.”
Sevha expressed his gratitude and turned his back. He led his followers out of the council chamber at once.
Eshu, Baren, and Tataka had seen Sevha’s expression while his head was bowed just moments before.
He had been smiling slyly, like a fisherman who had just reeled in his catch.
“He took the bait,” Sevha said. “Prepare.”
Outside the window, the moon was waxing.
***
Sevha and Teresse stood in the garden of Rasseu Castle.
Sevha glanced from the nearly full moon down to the ground. A short distance away, Tataka’s wife, Vega, was talking with the daughter of Viscount Garde, Hwin.
“Is that true?”
“Yes! Ever since then, whenever I see the commander, it’s so funny I could just…pfft! Isn’t that hilarious?”
“It is a funny story, but I cannot laugh. Sir Eshu is the one who saved my life.”
As their voices grew louder, Sevha used the cover of the noise to speak quietly to Teresse.
“Vega and Hwin were trailing you, but now they’re at ease. Does that mean you’ve discovered the Carved Tusk Tribe’s secret?”
Teresse smiled with the confidence of one who had been asked an obvious question.
“According to Hwin, Achuk and the Carved Tusks had lost their minds when they attacked Garde Castle.”
Sevha recalled his first meeting with Achuk in the castle. “He was in his right mind when I entered.”
“Meaning there’s a time limit to their madness.”
Teresse relayed the second testimony.
“Then there was Vega. She didn’t know why the Carved Tusks changed like that, so I asked her if there was anything that set those particular warriors apart.”
“And?”
“They undergo a trial in their youth. They enter a cave hung with a great deal of red cloth, and those who are selected receive separate training from the shamans.”
Teresse crossed her arms, summarizing what she had gathered.
“Achuk and the Tusks following him… they go mad when exposed to the color red for too long.”
“Does that even make sense?”
“Think of it simply. They were born as such creatures… no, they were made into such creatures.”
“Made into?” Sevha asked, not understanding.
Teresse’s expression turned lonely. “If you cannot understand, then let us simply call it magic.”
She swiftly hid the flicker of loneliness she had just felt, smiling slyly as usual.
“In any case, the Tusks following Achuk also display a slight increase in strength when they see red.”
“Slight? But they move even with their limbs severed.”
“That is because of their faith, Hunter. You know the story of the Fallen Saintess, don’t you?”
It was a story that every human on the continent knew.
“The saintess who fell in love with a man and ran away?”
Long ago, when there was no Papal See, the continent’s faith was led by a saintess of the Holy Emperor’s bloodline. Then in a certain generation, one saintess fell for a man and fled with him.
The disappearance of this religious leader was the catalyst for the emergence of the current Papal See and the Pope.
“But you see, Hunter, on the day the saintess fled, countless people started a riot to help her escape. Why would they help a traitor?”
Sevha shrugged.
Teresse explained, “It was because of faith. The saintess was akin to a living god, so her faithful, taught to see her as such, acted in defiance of all logic.”
Only then did Sevha grasp what Teresse was trying to say.
“It’s the same for the Tusks following Achuk?”
“Precisely. Thanks to the shamans’ teachings, they believe Achuk is an incarnation of the Wolf, a figure of worship.”
“Meaning, when Achuk goes berserk…”
“They are witnessing the god they believe in, and they fight in a state of religious ecstasy.”
Sevha organized Teresse’s explanation. “So the ones we were fighting weren’t savages, but Paladins of the Prairie.”
He believed Teresse’s theory sufficiently explained what he had seen.
And that made it difficult.
Fighting beasts in a frenzy was a hard thing. A crazed beast makes moves that a hunter cannot predict, actions that deviate from instinct.
“A conventional hunt is impossible, then.”
“I have a special method of hunting.”
“What is it?”
Teresse looked at him with her red eyes and laid out her plan.
After hearing it all, Sevha thought, This woman could be in danger.
But if Teresse’s theory was correct, it was certainly an effective hunting method.
“…It could be dangerous, Magus.”
“You’ll protect me, won’t you, Hunter?”
“Why would I? You’re nothing but a tool to me.”
Teresse poked his cheek with a finger. Then she said something he absolutely could not deny.
“A hunter takes good care of his tools. Isn’t that right, Sevha?”
Sevha raised both hands in a light gesture of defeat and said, “I will use you as a tool, just as you wish, Teresse.”
The moon rose higher.
***
Ruins stood on a plain stained by the sunset.
They were the remains of a fortress built in the Age of the Holy Emperor. The walls and towers were crumbled, a testament to the passage of time.
Inside the fortress, Duce surveyed his surroundings.
Sevha’s forces and the Count’s army were eyeing each other warily. Duce’s own knights kept their distance from both.
Just then, the Knight of Ornament said, “He is coming.”
Duce turned his head to see the Count and Tito approaching.
The moment the Count saw Duce, his lips twitched as if fighting back a laugh, a look he always wore in the First Prince’s presence. He barely managed to suppress it and offer a greeting.
Immediately after, Teresse walked over.
“Your Highness the First Prince. Count. I bring a message from my master, Dan le Blanc: ‘Rest well today, and we shall discuss matters tomorrow.’”
The Count immediately grew furious. “Does the bastard presume to give orders to the First Prince and myself!”
Teresse, undaunted, retorted at once.
“I will deliver the rest of his message. ‘If you don’t like it, feel free to go fight the Tusk Tribe alone.’”
The Count had suffered a great defeat to the Carved Tusks. He had no choice but to make use of the First Prince and Sevha.
Knowing this, Tito whispered something to the Count.
The Count ground his teeth, infuriated by the situation, but gave Teresse a nod.
“Then rest your minds and be at ease tonight,” Teresse said, her words containing not a shred of falsehood. “This place, where all the armies of Blanc are gathered, is now the safest location in the territory.”
She left them and climbed to the top of the fortress tower.
Sevha was on the tower, looking out at the horizon.
“It is ready,” she said.
Sevha watched the sun disappear and replied, “Only we are ready.”
And then, the sun set.
The moon rose.
The Count and Tito, encamped outside the fortress, were looking at the sky.
“Can you steer the negotiations in our favor?” the Count asked.
“We still possess the greater number of soldiers, My Lord. If we use that…”
The moon rose higher.
Inside the fortress, the First Prince was on a night stroll with his Knight of Ornament.
“Tell me, since I cannot lift my head to see it myself,” Duce said. “Is the Moon Princess now dancing above us, her dress fluttering?”
“Yes. Beautifully.”
“I pray my face is reflected in the moon, so that my other half at home might see it.”
“She is surely feeling the same.”
The moon rose higher still, until it hung at the apex of the sky.
Sevha gazed at the moon from the tower. It was finally full.
“It’s a full moon.”
A wind swept through the ruins.
Carried on that wind, a furious roar echoed.
When Sevha looked out at the horizon beyond the tower, he saw the Carved Tusks, riding werewolves, charging toward the ruins.
“I knew you would come, even knowing the disadvantage,” Sevha murmured. “You are, after all, waging a holy war.”
He looked down from the tower.
The Count and Tito, the First Prince and his Knight of Ornament—all were staring with mouths agape, their eyes darting between Sevha and the approaching Tusks.
Sevha found their stupefied expressions amusing and let out a laugh.
Then he gave them the truth they had been so desperate for.
“Since you would not give me your aid, I will take it.”
The Carved Tusks swept through the Count’s army, which was encamped outside the fortress.