Chapter 68 - 6-7
"I feel the presence of beasts coming from the west; I wonder if you two feel it as well?"
Manam, one of the three elders, asked his two companions as soon as he returned to the tent.
Since arriving at the Kandasyata Plateau, the elders had been receiving the highest hospitality a guest could hope for, being taken in by the chief's tent. Recently, they had been granted their own dedicated tents by the Great King. They were even provided with a young Kosa attendant named Binga.
This undoubtedly meant that the Great King had recognized the three elders as his subjects. Otherwise, it meant they were disliked by the Great King and were being kept at a distance.
"Beasts? You mean a pack of wolves is coming?" Persa responded.
"No, not that. I feel a suspicious movement of magical power toward the northwest; am I the only one?"
"I couldn't care less about such talk."
It was the voice of Nezumo, who sounded as if he were harboring dissatisfaction and was on the verge of exploding.
He had been like this since he was a boy. He was always harboring some grievance.
Manam, Persa, and Nezumo had reached a position where they could touch the overall blueprint of the world.
Under the guise of shaping the Great King's on-mara (T/N: phallus), they were permitted to place their hands upon the Great King's head. This was a situation that should have made one tremble with fear.
—In these hands.
In reality, it was Nezumo's hand, but the three were as one body and soul.
—The design of the world has been entrusted to us.
With their combined magical power, they had encountered an opportunity where they could do whatever they wished with the world.
Heh heh heh.
A suppressed chuckle could be heard. Looking over, they saw Nezumo looking down, his bony shoulders shaking.
"It has come, this moment."
"Yes, it has," Persa said. "But Nezumo. The opponent is not soft. The Great King is deep and vast. Too vast. The Great King's capacity exceeds the ocean. With clumsy magic, we will only be swallowed up and drown."
"True indeed," Manam said, crossing his arms.
"I've grown old," Nezumo said, raising his face. "We are old men. What is this? At our age, must we still wander and hesitate? Are you fools?"
"Ho, now that is..."
"I cannot let that slide."
"I am asking if you are fools. There is nothing left but to proceed. We will make the Great King—no, Geraha—our puppet. We will move Geraha as we please. We will make him ours. If Geraha moves, the world moves. And we are the ones who can place our hands upon Geraha's head. Let me tell you. Our lifespans are, naturally, not eternal. We shall likely turn to dust without ever seeing the world we created. There is no time."
"We know that already,"
Persa replied as if spitting the words out.
Manam also spoke.
"Inside the Great King's head, there is a vast ocean. What we are trying to do is like scooping up water from a spring with our hands and pouring it into that ocean, attempting to replace the seawater with fresh water. It is simply—"
"Even so, we cannot give up. This is a battle between us and Geraha. We shall face it by risking our lives. We were born for this moment. For this moment, we have endured hardships and suffering!"
"It's not a question of whether we do it or not. We want to get started immediately as well," Persa countered. "Specifically, what should we do!"
"How should I know! Thinking of that is your job!"
—A chain reaction.
Manam muttered, intending to make a decision.
"Shall we trigger a chain reaction? Inside the Great King's head."
"A chain reaction, huh," Persa made a grim face. "The difficulty with chain reactions is that the conclusion cannot be predicted."
"That is how the Way of Magic is by nature. We have no choice but to place our full trust in the way of the world."
"So, what are we doing and how!" Nezumo yelled like a barking dog.
"The Great King has a tendency to show small kindnesses in various situations. That, you see, we shall prick and switch. Toward a small cruelty."
In the first place, a king is a lonely existence.
A while ago, to the Great King himself,
—It is important for a ruler to know affection.
And so on, but that was not Manam's true heart. It was a convenience to ensure he received treatment.
More than that, it is strength. Even if one has a hundred friends, a conqueror and ruler must not trust them. The habit of considering the interests of others is very well and good. An eye that sees through what the enemy desires is necessary. However, if one empathizes and sympathizes with the feelings of others, the future will be perilous.
"Do you not think so?"
Nezumo's face broke into a grin. "To tell the truth, I also thought Geraha was a bit lukewarm."
"But if the Great King stops being kind, won't we be kicked out?"
"That will not happen," Manam answered Persa's question. "As long as our power is useful."
Fufu fufu.
Ihihi.
Hohoho.
Laughter spilled out from someone. The consensus was reached. The fate of the world had just been decided here, by only three people. They could not help but laugh.
—Fight to dominate, and rule.
That is the nature Geraha the Great King was born with. The chain reaction will surely proceed smoothly, without hesitation.
While Yugis Necrat was having breakfast in the dining hall as usual, Petu arrived in a great mood.
Because they had stood on the battlefield, even if the opponent was a reconnaissance force of two hundred riders, money had been paid from Attaik city to the Broy Mercenary Group.
Petu had personally brought Yugis's share.
"Here. I added a little extra. I figured you were the kind of guy who could come up with something. Just as I suspected. If you have any other good ideas, don't hesitate to say so."
Petu was climbing the ranks smoothly and now attended the end of the military council as a subcontractor representative.
"Petu, has His Highness Sitris said anything about the next development?"
"I don't know. But you can relax. His Highness recognizes the activity of the Broy Mercenary Group in the previous battle. We'll be given priority to stand on the battlefield next time too. You're in for a rough time next, kid."
"What for?"
"You'll probably be going out as infantry. If you've got any benefactors, you'd better greet them now. You might die."
"It's a terrifying thought, but certainly," Yugis thought Petu was right. "I'm going to Koroi. There's someone who helped me."
"Already? That's a good attitude."
Yugis girded his sword and first headed for the market. He wanted to buy a souvenir for the painter Matinee before returning. Attaik, originally constructed as a fortress, was used by merchants as a trading post during peacetime. Stalls with colorful cloth roofs filled the rectangular plaza, and the black heads of southerners crowded together.
As he walked, wondering what the painter would be pleased with, someone called out to him.
"Yo, Yugis."
Turning around, there was Bikira, holding a basket under her arm.
"What are you doing?"
"Looking for a souvenir for a friend."
"Are you going back? To your hometown?" Bikira's grayish eyes widened. "Was that why you were avoiding me?"
"I wasn't avoiding you. I just had no business with you." Feeling awkward, Yugis looked in a random direction. "Besides, my friend is in Koroi. I'm just going there for a bit to talk."
"I don't care where you go or who you talk to, but..."
When he returned his gaze, Bikira was also looking down, appearing awkward.
—Why do I...
Always say tactless things and create a strange atmosphere?
He stole a glance at Bikira's body. Her ample breasts and the flesh around her hips were stuffed into her clothes as if they were too tight, drawing the eye. But now, the delicate feeling of her slender neck and shoulders appealed to Yugis's emotions. Her bones were thin. A woman with thin bones was looking down with a troubled face.
"I will return to Siddim in the north someday," Yugis had no choice but to take a blunt attitude toward the girl's fragile expression. "There is a woman waiting for me in Siddim."
Bikira raised her face, her eyes sharpening.
"You useless man! Just die!"
"Too bad for you. I'll return to the north alive. Now go."
"Even without you telling me—you idiot!"
As Bikira walked away, showing him her back, it looked as if even her buttocks were angry.
Yugis was angry at himself too.
It was true that he had to return to Siddim someday. That didn't mean they had to part on bad terms. There must have been a way to part pleasantly, praying for each other's luck.
—What was that, "there's a woman waiting for me"?
Even the lie he told himself was pathetic. He felt like sighing.
"Your skin has tanned quite a bit."
In Koroi, he was welcomed by the painter Ludo Matinee.
Yugis was also happy to see Matinee's round, red-sunburned face.
It seemed his painting business was going well. Matinee treated him to fine liquor and a feast. Yugis returned the money for the help he had received.
"I'm ashamed to say, this is the first money I've earned with my own strength."
"I am honored. I shall accept it gratefully."
He also handed over the souvenir he had bought. "It's a familiar old god."
What he gave was a wooden carved statue.
"The snake god Meki. Indeed, he is a special god for us. I like it. It's very like you."
"There's more."
Yugis handed several sheets of paper to Matinee.
"What are these?"
"Kosa people. I'm not as good at drawing as you, but I drew them as a sort of memorandum."
The hats the Kosa wore, the clothes they dressed in, the boots they wore, the horses they rode, the tack, the weapons they used. Yugis had kept a collection of simple drawings of these things. Not only records of what Yugis had seen himself, but he had also written in information heard second-hand that had a high degree of accuracy.
"This is truly wonderful. What are these earthworm-like lines?"
"Those are lassos. I hear those fellows use these lassos to capture enemy soldiers on horseback and drag them straight back to their own lines as hostages. I haven't seen it myself, though. If you're about to be caught by one of these, you must protect your neck. First, tuck your chin, align both arms in front and put your wrists to your forehead, and prepare by sticking your elbows to your chest. Like this."
Yugis demonstrated.
Matinee blinked his eyes. "May I make a copy of these drawings?"
"No, if something like that is enough, I'll just give them to you."
"I cannot; these are precious observations that should be taken back to Siddim. —Yugis-san. Actually, a reply to a letter has arrived from my family. But, please prepare yourself. It is by no means good news."
Yugis spent the night reading the letter over and over, and stayed one night at Matinee's place.
The next morning, as he departed, Matinee said while returning Yugis's records.
"Please do not lose heart. Right now, it may seem difficult to remain undaunted. But you must not act out of desperation. Yugis-san, let me say this as an elder. Life is long. Life is so long and resilient that no matter how great the despair, it cannot be broken through."
Yugis searched desperately for words.
"Thank you, I... I don't know what to do. At the very least, I will resist the Kosa."
"—Are you returning to the battlefield? Is that your consolation?"
"If Koroi does not fall, the Kosa cannot attack Siddim. Matinee-san, please listen to the talk in the city. If you hear that the citizens of Attaik have begun to evacuate, leave Koroi immediately and hide yourself until the situation settles."
"And you?"
"I'll try to resist. Though I'm just a single private."
His last words became self-derisive.
However, if he didn't turn his back now, his hollow, pathetic face would be seen. Yugis ran out of Master Banja's mansion. His pace soon slowed to a walk. He didn't even have the energy to keep running.
According to the letter from Ludo Matinee's father, the East had been hit by the advance of the Royal Army and had been reorganized centered around the Thora family. The Anavis family, the Gilmond family, and the Necrat family were no more. His father, Urgil Necrat, had died on the street. Two older brothers had also died in battle.
In the face of the crisis in the East, the crisis of the Necrat family, what had Yugis done?
He had run away.
Even if he had been enticed by a mysterious man named Lian Belghiyo, he had abandoned the chaotic city of Malfa and fled.
He didn't want to be that kind of man.
Who would listen to the words of such a man?
How much must his comrades have despised him?
But his comrades were just as bad. What about the Skyner family of Belgau? What were the Danforth family of Dint doing? Did they not stand together with Carossa?
Had they not sworn to strike down the Thora family?
But, however.
—The first one to break that oath was none other than me.
What could he possibly say?
Yugis was alive. Like this, under the clear skies of the southern lands, he was walking the main road.
I wonder what happened to Haider. Is Cloden safe? What about the Mengel brothers, Zett and Raidi? What happened to Zeal and the others?
—Life is long.
Matinee had told him that. But if his comrades were dead, the longer life was, the more cursed it became.
If he had stayed in Malfa city at that time, what could he have done? He didn't know. He might have been killed miserably. But even so, he could have died with his comrades. He should have been able to die without becoming a traitor.
—Ridiculous.
Yugis shook his head. What was the point of dying?
—Should I return to Siddim?
He thought again about what he had considered many times since last night.
—Even if I return, what is there?
There was no place for him. No home, no hometown. If he returned, Yugis might be arrested by the Thora family.
Besides, right now, he couldn't bring himself to leave Attaik. So to speak, only the Kosa remained unchanged from the past. They remained there as a threat. His greatest objective remained in an unfulfilled form.
That fact was the only thing he had to cling to now.
—But, if.
Yugis thought timidly.
In the letter to Matinee, as a side note, something was written about Her Highness Luchentin Alish. It was rumored in the streets that she had entered a convent. He didn't know what had happened to Laicanel Thora.
—In this world, I alone shall understand you.
If he could believe the princess's words, Yugis might still be able to be a knight. He would be a knight with no land and no house, likely a conceptual knight, but still.
If that were the case, he could not die yet. A knight's death is offered to their lord.
—If I die, it will be on the battlefield.
Yugis swore to himself. Not for Attaik or Koroi, but for Siddim, he would fight the Kosa and fall. Was that thought also a form of escape? He didn't know. But Yugis wanted to resist the Kosa's world conquest. To protect His Majesty and His Majesty's family. That was the duty and pride of a knight of Siddim.
If he lost his pride, he would lose everything.
At the point where the city walls of Attaik were about to come into view, Yugis stopped.
Tears began to flow.
—I was saved by the princess.
It wasn't that he wanted to betray his comrades. He didn't know what the correct answer was. He hated himself. But the woman Yugis obsessively drew in his heart forgave Yugis calmly.
—If you have committed a sin, I alone shall forgive you.
Yugis was crying on the main road of a foreign land.
Around the same time, Geraha Wolf rode his giant horse down the Kandasyata Plateau and headed toward the boundary with the plains.
It was to meet Kushitante, the King of the Tawaru. Geraha deliberately kept the number of attendants small. There were only a dozen or so riders, including Kirikiri and the three elders. Geraha believed that this kind of agility was the true terror of the Kosa.
The designated meeting place was the edge of the desert. They arrived in the evening, when the hot winds had subsided.
It was near a large rocky mountain.
Even from a distance, he could tell that a group of tents on the scale of several hundred riders had been set up. Besides that, there was something conspicuous. Tall structures that resembled wooden watchtowers. At a glance, there were four or five of them.
"Are those them?"
Geraha asked Kirikiri beside him.
"Without a doubt. Geh heh heh."
Geraha's party galloped toward the meeting place.
Kushitante was standing there, dressed in beautiful clothing, to welcome Geraha. He had not let his soldiers mount their horses. The alignment of the Tawaru soldiers was as disciplined as southern infantry. Everything from the helmets and clothes they wore down to their shoes was perfectly matched. It seemed they had made uniforms.
"Good work!"
Geraha spoke toward all the Tawaru soldiers, including Kushitante.
Geraha signaled his attendants with his eyes and had the Kosa other than himself dismount.
"I am humbled, Great King."
Swaying his loose sleeves, Kushitante bowed his bald head. A smile played at the corners of his eyes. It was an expression showing confidence.
"It has been a long time, King of the Tawaru. I have returned."
"Lord of the land of Byo, leader of the Mamukuri, King of the Kosa, and protector of the Tawaru, Great King Geraha. Your subject Kushitante can only be ashamed of his own ignorance."
"Well, back then," Geraha remembered the time he was a prisoner of the Tawaru. "It couldn't be helped if I wasn't recognized as the Great King. I was terrible too."
"Those are gracious words, Great King. To be able to meet you again like this, to speak from my heart, I am truly happy. I was surprised that you became the Great King with the speed of thunder. More than that, right now, I feel amused, or rather, refreshed."
The King of the Tawaru showed a smile and took the bridle of Geraha's horse himself. "Let me show you immediately. When I presented this horse, the Great King was so bold as to tell me. That together, we shall collect the finest things in the world. These are one of those finest things."
Saying so, he guided Geraha to the side of the wooden structures.
"These are siege towers. Watchtowers that move on wheels below. You have likely never seen anything this tall."
"Hmm."
Indeed, it was a wooden tower with wheels attached.
"They are disassembled and transported to the battlefield, then assembled on site. Most siege weapons are like that. Archers are loaded into this, it approaches the city walls, and after suppressing the ramparts with arrows, a plank is laid across the ramparts to board them."
"It's made of wood. What about fire arrows?"
"We cover them in iron," Kushitante looked up at Geraha with proud eyes. "Usually, they are dampened and covered in fur to prevent them from being burned. However, the iron plates made by the workshops of the Kingdom of Kalba, one of the plains nations, are thin, light, and sturdy. Not only do they avoid combustion, but they can also defend against enemy arrows to some extent. That one is also a siege tower, but it's made slightly slimmer. If the footing is good, that one moves more nimbly."
—Attaik has moats, after all.
Siege towers probably couldn't be used.
Kushitante's explanation continued. After large crossbows and catapults that used the elasticity of bows, the explanation of a device as giant as a dragon began.
"This is a counterweight trebuchet. As you can see, triangular frames are set up in a row, an axle is passed through the apex, and a rod that serves as the arm is sandwiched. It's a mechanism that throws giant stones by swinging that arm around with the weight of a ridiculously huge counterweight. The weight is too large to attach wheels, but that's why such large projectiles can be thrown, and the range is considerable."
Geraha looked for Kirikiri.
Kirikiri had come right up to Geraha's horse.
"What do you think?"
"Geh heh heh. Great King, with this, it's more than enough, no mistake."
Kirikiri looked up at Geraha, his face full of wrinkles.
There was a weakness in Attaik that Kirikiri, who had gone on reconnaissance leading the youth, had seen through. It was the square tower in the northeast.
'A square tower, unlike a round tower, you see.'
Kirikiri had explained this even before coming here.
A square tower with corners at the four edges was, so to speak, like a chair. If you break one leg, you can no longer sit.
'The giant tower of Attaik has too much weight at the top, so it can be compared to a chair with a person always sitting on it. In other words, if you break one leg of the chair, it will tip over on its own.'
The northeast square tower reportedly had traces of rough stone repairs. They would attack there. They would collapse one leg of a tower stabilized by four legs. They would collapse one point of a tower supported by four points. The tower should collapse, unable to withstand its own weight. Kirikiri predicted that the curtain wall would also partially collapse, dragged down by that fall.
In any case, as long as the wall collapsed, they could infiltrate the city.
'Heh heh, in other words, if we collapse one of the towers at the four corners of the city, and one of the four corners of that tower, the whole of Attaik will fall. Heh heh.'
However, to collapse a tower, a catapult—and a quite large one at that—would be necessary.
The workshops of the plains nations should be able to make such a thing.
In the end, Geraha hurried the alliance, granting the Tawaru significant participation in the governance of Koroi. He judged that as long as he held the reins and kept watch, Kushitante could be controlled.
First, a grand oath-document arrived from Kushitante, and then Geraha sent a letter in return.
And then, this meeting.
"It seems the King of the Mamukuri is pleased," Kushitante said.
"Ge-heh heh. Of course, of course. I'm certainly pleased. How about ordering four or five more of these, Great King?"
"Can you do it?" Geraha looked down at Kushitante with his unevenly sized eyes.
"Can I, you ask?" Kushitante said. "The plains nations are a group of city-states consisting of ten kingdoms, you know? In seven days, parts for ten counterweight trebuchets can be made, and the assembly craftsmen can be prepared."
"For a thousand years from now," Geraha answered. "For a thousand years, I shall make the Koroi people those who look down and wear a forced smile, unable to say anything, whenever they hear the word 'Tawaru'."
Kushitante's eyes rounded, and his mouth rounded.
He held that expression for a while. Then, he suddenly knelt.
"May Kosa continue not just for a thousand years, but for eternity."
"Will you help me?"
"I shall accompany you for eternity."
Kushitante bowed his head even deeper.
The Tawaru soldiers watched this with expressions of surprise.
—The acting skills of this king are something else.
Geraha suppressed the urge to burst out laughing.
Should he let the Tawaru handle the finishing touches of the southern conquest? Geraha thought suddenly.
He himself did not yet realize that this was the small cruelty beginning to sprout.