Chapter 7 - The Capital Of The Plains

Ugh, it's bad...

I regret my decision of accepting the drinking contest. My head hurts, and I

feel like hurling. Why is it affecting me now? It didn't make me drunk, but

I'm stuck with a hangover? Damn it, where's the detox spell when you need

it?

Gram doesn't look much better this morning. The bard didn't drink much,

so to the hung-over me, he just seems so much more annoying.

When the two lovebirds come down from their room in the morning, Rolan

looks tired, and Luna appears refreshed. What did those two do, I wonder...

not. I don't even want to know how long or how often they did it, I'm just

happy we didn't have to hear anything downstairs.

Ugh, I'm feeling sick.

"We're departing in an hour. Get ready until then." Rolan announces to the

party. I hope in one hour I'll be feeling better, then.

"Where are we going?" I just shamelessly include myself when I ask this,

but it was practically already settled this way yesterday. Something about

traveling together until we get to that city, of which the name I already forgot.

Taking me to anywhere less backwater would be a step in the right direction

anyway. I might be able to find my way from there then.

"We're going back to the guild in Hovsgaerden to get our reward for this

request." Rolan is the one to answer. Right, that's what that city was called.

"Where is Hovsgaerden?" I ask, hinting at the fact that I'd like to know

about it in a geographical sense. Maybe you could show it to me on a map,

you know?

Oh, he's actually taking something out of his bag. It's a piece of leather,

similar to the one I found in my backpack. Don't tell me he's going to draw it

onto that for me...

"Kortid!" He chants and lines appear on the leather, which quickly join

together to form a map.

Wait, don't tell me...

I want to repeatedly hit my mother over the head with a paper fan. She didn't teach me this incantation, and she didn't even tell me that the piece of

leather in my backpack was a map in the first place!

"This is where we are." He points at a small red spot in the center of the

map. "And this is Hovsgaerden."

Drawing his finger about halfway across the map in a line, he stops next to

a black spot to the south-west, not too far from it. There are letters on the

map, but I can't read them at all. My perfect knowledge of the spoken

language right upon reincarnation isn't convenient enough to extend to

reading it, huh? Maou-mama never made me read any texts, so I never

noticed.

"How far is it?" I can get an idea about the distances with this.

"About four days away." Gram joins in on our conversation. He has

finished packing his belongings and is drinking a large jug of water to combat

his hangover.

"So we're going to walk?" I'm not too keen on walking long distances on

my human feet, now that I know the luxury of moving in the form of a

vularen, but I feel that traveling with them is the better option, since I can

learn a lot of things from them.

Or at least just how to operate maps myself. I'll have Rolan teach me along

the way, and in the process give Luna more reason to be jealous. She's too

fun to play with; I just can't leave that alone.

"Horses are scarce in these parts, so they're very expensive." Rolan states

with a shrug. In other words, this party is poor. "Even this request won't get

us enough money to buy a single horse." And apparently, the adventurer job

doesn't pay much.

"We are a long distance from the Demon Continent, so the effect of the

demon queen's corruption is not that overbearing. We do not see many

incidents here, so the requests are fairly limited." The bard continues to

explain when Rolan checks the straps on his backpack.

"We plan to move to the empire eventually so that we can join the next

campaign against the demon queen." The leader finishes his checkup and

turns to speak to me with a grin.

Well, before you do that, I'll kill you though...

"That's only if the alliance army doesn't succeed." Gram slings his shield

onto his back, over his backpack, and rejoins the conversation. "Obviously,

we don't hope for that, do we?"

His voice doesn't hold a sarcastic undertone, so it's safe to say that he

actually hopes that they succeed. After all, it would be better to be out of a

job than having wished for the death of who knows how many people. And I

know that a lot of them must have died, since two monarchs, which should

typically be at the very back of the army, had been served up as breakfast

afterward.

"When do you plan to do that?" From their response, I can gauge the

confidence they have in their abilities. If it's soon, it means they consider

themselves strong. Well, they aren't really when compared to Maou-mama or

even myself, but it would mean that they think they are compared to their

human peers.

"At the latest by the time the next expedition comes around if there's one in

the first place. The journey alone will take a while, but we need to gather

funds first." Rolan replies with a shrug, before looking around at the party

members. "Alright, let's go. We'll be camping out for two nights during our

journey, so I hope you don't mind, Miss Marcott."

"You can call me Chloe, Sir Rolan." From the corners of my eyes, I see

Luna's head spinning around to stare at me with a dumbfounded expression.

Hohoho, she's so easy to read.

"A-ah, yeah. Miss Chloe." He takes me up on that offer, but he doesn't drop

the honorific.

Oh wow, that's a murderous gaze if I've ever seen one. Luna is glaring at

Rolan for actually calling me by my first name. Will they start arguing here

again? This journey is going to be entertaining.

We depart the village of Birkas soon after. Rolan, as the party leader, sets

the pace but pays attention to whether I can keep up or not. He doesn't know

that I don't have a stamina bar that could be depleted and that I don't ever tire.

I think this will be the longest distance I've ever walked in my life, just to

get to another place. Gram explained to me that it's about sixty kilometers. At

least that's my estimate, converted from the numbers he gave me. He had to

explain the relation between a league and a pace, and it earned me strange

looks for not even knowing that.

I was able to play it off with the fact that I was a sheltered noble daughter

who only ever traveled by carriage and didn't ever have to think about

distances. It's the truth, since I only ever walked to and from school, but went everywhere else by train.

The bard already told me that this would be a pretty uneventful journey

since the roads are well maintained, and there are usually no monsters around

these parts. There aren't many bandits in the kingdom since they don't have

much of a reason to exist. So, this is basically a boring, backwater country far

from strife, which doesn't know many hardships.

My little story about being attacked by bandits seems a little unbelievable

when I hear that there have been very few incidents in recent years. For me to

be attacked near such a small village seems even more unlikely.

Luckily, nobody is thinking that... I hope.

Making merry conversation and good progress on the road, the first day

comes to an end without anything out of the ordinary happening. We spend

that night in a small village no bigger than Birkas. The inn is even smaller,

and there's only a single large communal room where men and women sleep

together in bunk beds.

In my previous life, I would have been too shy to do something like that,

but with my new outlook on life, I don't sweat the small stuff anymore. And it

seems quite the normal thing to do here, since the party, as well as the other

guests, go to sleep soon after nightfall. Their rhythmic breathing tells me that

they have fallen asleep just minutes after the lights were put out.

I had expected Gram to be someone who snores, but he's unexpectedly

really quiet. So are the others, which leads me to assume that it's because the

air here is incredibly clean and people don't develop breathing problems that

way. I find my mind being drawn towards slumber in the silence of the night,

and soon slip away as well.

A new day, the same procedure as the previous.

As expected, I learn more about the people I'm traveling with. Rolan

wanted to be a baker before, but seeing the suffering brought about by the

corruption of the demon queen, he decided to change his dreams. It's quite the

commendable attitude and reminds me of heroes in fiction; they are always

born from the common people who witness injustice and stand up against it.

Gram grew up as the son of a lumberjack, so it explains his big body. He

was meant to take over the family business, but when his father and the

employees were killed by a wild beast affected by corruption, the business

was practically destroyed. Therefore, he decided to become someone who could protect those dear to him.

The bard is obnoxious, so I haven't paid much attention to him. I can

understand why he would constantly flirt with me since Luna is obviously

already taken. It must be a rare occurrence for another girl to join the party, if

even only temporarily.

Speaking of Luna, she doesn't talk to me unless necessary.

I feel that it might be a waste of time to remember all their personal stories.

When we part eventually, we'll either never see each other again, or meet in

battle as enemies. Rather than their dreams and aspirations, I'd like to know

their weaknesses. But they're weak, so there's not much more to learn. Except

for magic, that is.

The journey remains uneventful. We pass through a few small villages

along the way, all around the same size as the previous, and buy some

supplies for the road. But the little food rations everybody gets is far from

enough to fill my insides, which feel like they're going to cave in soon.

If I was alone, I could go into the forest and hunt for some wild animals,

but I'm traveling with these humans and posing as a weak girl who needs to

be protected. They don't ever let me out of their sight, and although I can

excuse myself by saying that I want to pick some flowers, it doesn't give me

enough time to find something to eat.

But finally, on the second night, an opportunity provides itself, as we're

camping out. Gram has the first guard shift for the night, but I drank some

alcohol with him, and he fell asleep. I guess the area is safe enough for

someone to let their guard down like this even while on night watch.

We had set up camp at the edge of a forest, beside a pasture used by those

multicolored sheep for grazing. I steal away in the dark and quickly transform

into a vularen once out of sight. Following the scent of the sheep, I find the

farm they belong to and sneak into the barn. There, I'm greeted by terrified

bleating.

Ahhh, so many little sheep, ready for the slaughter.

I'm back before Rolan takes over the second shift. I have about a dozen

sheep inside me, slowly dissolving and satisfying my craving for sustenance.

With this I should be fine for several days, I think.

Sorry, unknown farmer, but I left you with a few. I'm sure you won't go out

of business over this, right? Nothing connects to this group of adventurers

and me since the footprints I left behind are those of an animal similar to a wulfar's. Nobody would stop to consider the possibility that little old me was

the one who transformed into it.

On the next morning, when we have breakfast, I appear to look weirdly

satisfied with only a single piece of bread and some dried ham. I could easily

eat more, but I do it to keep up appearances.

But Rolan and Gram stare at me in astonishment, before exchanging a

glance that suggests wonder. Hey, I'm not a glutton, alright? Stop judging me

by your first impression. Luckily, they dismiss my seemingly strange

behavior with a shrug; it's easier on their funds after all.

The bard shows me our position on the map. He says that we made great

progress, against all expectations and might reach Hovsgaerden in the late

evening hours of today, rather than around noon tomorrow - as it was

projected.

That's another point where they are surprised. They had expected me to

require breaks all the time, but I easily kept up with them despite the fact that

they're walking at a pretty brisk pace. In fact, the bard appears to have less

stamina than I do, and the breaks are usually taken for his sake.

Unexpectedly, Luna isn't showing any fatigue at all. Might be because of

strengthening magic she cast on herself or something like that.

In my previous life, I ran Olympic-distance marathons in under two and a

half hours - which placed me among the best in Japan at my age. That's more

than twice the distance we travel each day.

Not like that has anything to do with my currently limitless stamina, as

that's because I'm not a human but a Crawling Chaos.

Thus, we reach Hovsgaerden late in the evening, several hours after the sun

has gone down. Luckily there is a full moon, and we could see the road, or

else we would have had to camp out another night to complete the journey in

the morning.

According to the bard, Hovsgaerden is a city of a hundred thousand

inhabitants and the third largest city in all of the kingdom. Called 'The

Capital of the Plain', it's the largest city on this side of the mountain range

that splits the nation in two.

It has thick city walls, although they don't look like they're being patrolled.

The gate is even open despite this advanced hour. In historical stories, I've always read that they are closed after the sun goes down, but apparently, that

isn't the case here. I guess it goes to show that this nation is at peace. There

are gate guards though, most likely to keep wild animals out.

"Good evening!" Gram calls out to them in a friendly manner when we

approach the gates, to draw attention to us so that we don't come across as

suspicious. The guards look in our direction and remain silent for a moment

before they recognize him.

"Welcome back, Gram. Good hunting, I assume." One of them replies in an

equally friendly tone. "Got a trophy?"

"Unfortunately, the beast was corrupted." Coming to a stop before the

guards, the big man shrugs and shakes his head.

"That's a shame. Would've made a nice addition to the guild hall." Another

guard, looking almost a decade younger than the first, comes up to join the

conversation and turns to Rolan. "You going there now?"

"Yeah, we'll get it over with tonight and make a fresh start tomorrow."

Pumping his fist, the leader states with a grin.

"Better luck with your target next time." Making way, the first guard

wishes us all the best and motions to let us through.

"Wait, who's that?" The younger man spots me and his voice tints with a

hint of suspicion.

"Oh, we picked her up in Birkas. Her name is Chloe Marcott. She says she

was traveling with her parents, but they were ambushed by bandits. She alone

was able to escape with her life." Gram explains my story to them. Now that

it's being told by someone else, it sounds so implausible that I could laugh out

loud at it.

"I'm so sorry to hear that, Lady Marcott." Tipping their helmets, the guards

express their condolences.

Huh, they bought it?

Good thing I have my facial expressions under control right now, or else

there would have been surprise on my face. I can't believe that this story is

holding up across so many people.

"We don't want to keep you any longer; you must be tired from your

journey." The older guard waves us in and gives me a sympathetic look.

"Sorry for doubting you." The younger guard nods to me with an

apologetic expression.

"Don't worry. You're just doing your job." I look up to him with the warmest smile I can muster. Even in the dim light of the full moon, I can see

that he blushes at the sight. Seems like he just felt the proverbial arrow pierce

his heart, huh? Sorry, I'm not interested in men, though.

With this, we finally enter the city, and I breathe a silent sigh of relief.

"Alright, let's go to the guild and get our reward." Rolan, apparently not

thinking much of the exchange just now, proceeds to guide us down the main

street.

"I was wondering, how can you prove that you killed the wulfar without a

body?" That thought flashed through my head when I saw it crumble to dust

back then, but the villagers believed them even when they came back emptyhanded, so I didn't think about it anymore at the time.

"If you are speaking of evidence, then they lie in my crossbow bolts." The

bard replies in the leader's stead and points at his backpack. "The part that

was buried in the beast is now blackened by its curse. This serves as evidence

that we fought a corrupted beast."

"Same for my sword." Rolan pats the scabbard since he doesn't want to

draw his weapon in town to show me what he means. I didn't notice it at the

time since it was bloody, but I guess it stayed black after he cleaned the

blade. "Anything that comes into contact with a corrupted beast's blood will

have to be incinerated by magic or purified at the church."

Church.

When I hear that word, I have to suppress a grimace from appearing on my

face. Everything I've learned about churches in fantasy settings is that they

are, without exception, actually evil and bigoted organizations. With

humanity's enemy being demons that spread corruption with their very

existence, I can only imagine that they're really influential and powerful in

this nation.

"We'll go there tomorrow. I'm sure we're all tired tonight." The leader says

as we walk onto the city square.

There's a small fountain in the center, on which a larger-than-life bronze

statue of a man wielding a hammer and a flaming sword towers. He's wearing

a horned helm and sports a bushy beard that looks like his face is lined with

fire. Aside from that last tidbit, he reminds me of a stereotypical depiction of

a Viking.

"That's Gulbrand, Lord of the Forge." Gram comments when he notices my

gaze. We begin to round the fountain to the left, and I get a good look at the statue's face. He's wearing an eye-patch over his right eye. "He was the lord

of Hovsgaerden during the Age of Frost."

"What was the Age of Frost?" I find myself intrigued and ask without

thinking.

"That is best told over a warm meal, near a cozy fire." The bard steps in

and interrupts the big man before he can respond. Alright, I have to admit

that the name sounds like it'll cause me to start feeling cold, even though I

shouldn't, with this convenient body.

"Indeed, you guys should go ahead while Runa and I go claim the bounty.

We'll come after to join you in the Dancing Dragon." Rolan suggests and

points across the square to a house with stone foundations and wooden walls.

There's a signboard above the door, showing a stylized winged dragon

standing upright on its hind legs.

"Alright, we'll get you the usual." The big man waves to the two and turns

to lean in on me. "As for you, tonight you'll get to taste the best ale in the

kingdom."

I catch myself looking forward to it. Guess I developed a taste for alcohol

despite my first experience with it going the way it did.

"Over here." Gram, being a head taller than everyone around him even

while sitting down, is the first to notice when Rolan and Luna enter the

tavern.

I had expected that at this advanced hour people would have returned home

and gone to sleep already, but this tavern seems to be crowded with both men

and women, who are all eating and drinking while making merry.

"So, have you started telling the story?" Rolan asks while he and Luna sit

down on the bench left to the two of them specifically.

"We were waiting for you." The bard replies and shrugs.

"Hey, it's not like I don't know the story of Gulbrand or the Age of Frost."

Laughing, the leader remarks and takes a big gulp from the jug of ale in front

of him.

"And for the food." Gram adds as he sees the waitress coming towards us

carrying a tray stacked with something that resembles mashed potatoes and a

huge pile of roast meat. I can feel my mouth water at its sight, but make sure

to hide my interest behind a facade of aloofness.

"You have not heard me tell it, now have you?" Winking, the bard sets aside his lute to partake in the meal first. "But that will have to wait for when

the bellies are filled, and the alcohol has flowed."

Apparently, the meat comes from an animal that visually resembles a wild

boar - according to Gram's description - and the mashed potato-like stuff

tastes exactly what it looks like. In either case, it's the best meal I've had since

coming to this kingdom. While it's much more rustic and less refined than

what I ate in the demon palace, it has a certain charm to it that can't be

denied.

When we finish up, and I empty my jug of ale, the bard strums his lute and

sets the mood. The tavern has grown quiet as many have left, and the ones

still around become aware that someone is about to tell a story.

"One final glow, a generation lost - ten summers of snow, the Age of

Frost." His voice is unexpectedly charming as he begins with a rhyme. He

proceeds to recount the occurrences of more than a millennium ago when the

kingdom had not yet come into existence.

The story of Gulbrand, Lord of the Forge, took place during a decade of

unceasing winter, called the Age of Frost. Apparently, it had been caused by

the frost giants that were living in the eternally snow-capped mountains that

split the continent.

In the third frozen summer, a host of said frost giants found their way down

onto the Slaettermark, where several small human nations existed alongside

each other in peace. The giants began to raid and destroy all settlements along

their path, and few were able to escape their slaughter.

The survivors fled to Hovsgaerden, which was fortified and well armed but

was suffering from a lack of food as a result of the unceasing winter. Back

then, it was the capital of Allvoell, an ancient nation before the Kingdom of

Lares was formed. It was governed by Lord Gulbrand.

A kind lord who had an exceptional love for blacksmithing, he understood

the mortal threat his people were under. Working the bellows unceasingly for

day and night, he personally forged enchanted weapons to fight the frost

giants with, while he opened his private granaries to feed the citizens.

One day, when a blizzard laid its blanket of death over the lands, the frost

giants came to raid Hovsgaerden. The city walls hardly posed an obstacle to

their advance, as they were tall enough to climb over the battlements.

But they had not expected to be met by Lord Gulbrand and the people of the city, each wielding a flaming weapon, who stood in defense of their one

and only home. It was a valiant fight, and soon, the giants were beaten back

and scattered into the white darkness.

Yet, they did not give up. Every fortnight, they would return and try again.

And every time, Lord Gulbrand stood at the very front of the defenders, to

beat them back into the wilderness.

Even when his citizens had grown weary, their swords had dulled, and the

walls had started to crumble, their lord would not rest. After every attack, he

returned to his workshop, and reforged broken spears and chipped swords,

not emerging until there was enough to equip every able person in town once

more.

Finally, on their thirteenth attack, the frost giants broke down the gates and

invaded the city. Their breaths of winter shattered man, woman, and child

alike, as they rampaged through houses and streets. All hope seemed lost as

the defenders fell one after another, and hearths flickered out in formerly

warm homes.

That was when Lord Gulbrand, who had retreated to the keep with the

survivors, ran into his workshop. Many despaired, thinking that he was trying

to save his own life by locking himself in the last warm place in the city. It

seemed as if the situation caused them to forget everything he had done for

them in the past.

But he came out moments later, wearing a breastplate glowing red hot from

the forge's heat. Wielding his enchanted blacksmith hammer and a new

burning sword, he gave a fearsome battle roar, and jumped down from the

castle gate, into the onslaught of frost giants.

Every swing of his sword set ice on fire, every strike of his hammer

shattered frozen bodies to pieces. He became an incarnation of flames, as his

unstoppable rampage cleaved through the ranks of his enemies.

His burning eyes brought fear into the cold hearts of the frost giants for the

first time, and they ran for their lives. Lord Gulbrand would not let up his

chase until every last one of them had left the city. Afterward, he stood on the

gatehouse until his armor and sword had long cooled down in the winter

storm, watching over the frozen wasteland vigilantly, to make sure the enemy

did not return.

"The frost giants would never dare attack Hovsgaerden again, and avoided Allvoell for the rest of the Age of Frost." Playing a few notes on the lute to

signal that story time has come to an end, the bard returns everyone from the

magical journey his voice and music took us on. "Some say that because of

Gulbrand's affinity with the forge, the glowing hot breastplate did not burn

his flesh. That is why he is called the Lord of the Forge. The flaming

weapons he forged were scattered across the lands after his death, and are

sought after by many. His magical hammer remains missing, and was

designated as one of the legendary items of the kingdom."

A shiver runs down my spine due to feeling a cold breeze blow past my

neck, even though it should be warm in here. That's how compelling the

bard's narration was, to be able to convey the freezing temperatures of this

decade of ice.

Then I find that I've been leaning forward slightly and was hanging onto

his every word - as has everyone else who remained in the tavern. It appears

that the bard is a proper bard after all, with a magical attraction once he gets

serious. His demeanor was that of a professional, and I can't help but feel

impressed.

Everyone begins to applause quietly, as if trying not to disperse the

lingering atmosphere of myth and legend he conjured with his skills. A

rotund man with orange hair and a big braided beard of the same color waves

over the waitress who has been listening from the sidelines, and orders a

round of drinks for our group, on him.

"Thank you, good sir." Expressing his gratitude, the bard tips his feathered

hat with a surprisingly dignified nod and smiles. I think I'll have to reevaluate

my opinion of him after this. "Hmmm, it appears that you have finally fallen

for my charm, Miss Marcott?"

I take it back. He's still the obnoxious person he was all throughout our

journey.

"Hahaha, that expression says it all." Gram laughs and pats the bard's

shoulder. I wonder what kind of expression I'm making, but it should be

anything but a cheerful one.

Everybody soon leaves the tavern or goes upstairs to retire for the night.

We finish the jugs of ale we so graciously received as payment for the bard's

talents, and go to do the same. Apparently, I have a room to myself, since

Rolan and Luna will share one, while Gram and the bard take another.

This will give me some alone time to think about everything that has

happened so far, as well as do some practice with my body again.

There won't be a recap episode, though.