The Mythical Hero's Otherworld Chronicles: Volume 4 E-Book

Tatematsuri

• Herausgeber: J-Novel Club
• Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
• Serie: The Mythical Hero's Otherworld Chronicles
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2023

Seitenzahl: 283

Beschreibung

The Faerzen offensive has collapsed. Aura is trapped behind enemy lines, Liz is missing, presumed captured, and every passing second is a second that their lives hang in the balance. With the clock mercilessly ticking, Hiro readies the Crow Legion for its first true engagement. But right from the start, some things don’t add up. Who is really pulling the strings of this war? And as Hiro rides into the battle-scarred west, he unwittingly draws closer to his greatest challenge yet: a renegade princess hellbent on revenge, wielding the fearsome Gáe Bolg.

Leseprobe

Prologue

A sickening number of corpses littered the battlefield. Black smoke spiraled heavenward from blasted trees to blot out the sky. The tang of smoldering rust filled the air.

“Yaaah!”

Across that vision of hell danced a crimson-haired girl. With each twirl, she scattered the lingering death-stench; with each leap, she swung to rend the nightmare in twain. Her every slash birthed cries of pain, of anger, and of every imaginable kind of malice. Yet no matter how many soldiers she cut down, no matter how high the bodies piled, there was no end to her despair. Breathing raggedly, she thrust her burning blade into the earth.

“So this is how it feels to truly have your back against the wall.”

She looked around, but there was not a friendly face in sight. Their retreat had long been cut off. Her retinue had stood with her to the last, but they had died to a man. Now, with her strength all but spent, she had little hope of escaping the circle closing around her.

As her vision blurred with blood, she raised her eyes to the sky and set her jaw with determination.

“But I can’t give up. I swore to him that I’d see him again.”

Her fingers found their grip on the hilt once more as she remembered the promise she had made to the black-haired boy. The next time they met, she would show him how much she had grown. This she had vowed. She would not falter here. She could not.

The tip of her crimson blade swiped sideways, warning the encroaching enemies away.

“Come on, then. This isn’t where I die.”

If they cut off her arms, she would stumble. If they took her legs, she would crawl. But she would reach him, one way or another. She would return to where he waited and see him smile again.

Wilfully, valiantly, she raised her sword and looked her foes in the eyes.

“I’ll be all right. This isn’t the end!”

His face flashed through her mind, and with a smile, she launched herself forward—into the forest of spears and beyond, to him. Her crimson eyes burned with unwavering resolution as she plunged into the oncoming horde. She hardly needed to look where she was swinging; her strikes would have struck home even if she were blind. A single slash sent blood spraying across the plain. Screams rose skyward. Her sword blazed bright to reflect her will, its scarlet blade spewing hellfire.

As she tore through the soldiers, a new arrival to the battle caught her attention. She stopped.

“Eh?”

Drums beat from all around. The enemy ranks hummed with anticipation. Their cheers shook the earth and their stamping resounded in her very guts. The sea of men parted, and out from the breach stepped a female knight.

“I applaud your tenacity,” the woman called out, “even in the face of defeat.” Her voice rang clear and true through the roars around them. “But you are only one against many. The time has come to end this performance.”

With a smile as demure as a saint’s, she brandished her azure spear in a deft one-handed spin. Its passing shattered the earth. Every flourish sent out a shock wave, whipping up dust and rocks around her. So overwhelming was her presence that the air itself strained under its weight.

“Eyes straight. Don’t look away.”

A muffled boom shook the air.

“Or you will die.”

All at once, the knight was hardly a rue away. The crimson-haired girl raised her blade in a hurried guard, but even blocked, the impact blasted through her body.

“Agh!”

“Good,” the woman said. “But you have erred even so.”

Too late, the girl noticed the savage chill that clawed at her skin, felt the glacial wind from the speartip grating against her guard. Her eyes widened as her burning blade began to freeze over.

“You think so, do you?!” She sank forward, thrusting her opponent away, and swung with all her might. “Well, I’ll show you!”

No matter how stout her heart, no matter how noble her resolve, being forced onto the back foot took its toll on her swordsmanship. Even so, she fought valiantly. The chill issuing from the azure spear froze the sweat on her forehead, and her lips split until they bled, but she pressed onward.

“You fight well. But you will go no farther.”

“Ngh!”

It was a single breath that undid her, a brief disconnect between one strike and the next. Her lovely features twisted in pain as the spear sliced through her flesh.

“Guh!”

The spear struck again, this time punching through her shoulder. A gout of blood sprayed behind her.

“Now you are done.”

The knight planted her spear in the ground and raised a hand. The enemy troops surged forward, scrambling to take their chance while they had it. The girl’s crimson sword flared, sensing danger, but the azure spear’s chill dispersed its light.

“Not yet... I’m not...”

A fierce will still burned in her eyes, but she had no cards left to play, no means of defending herself against the storm of violence.

“Hiro...”

As her enemies fell on her, she reached out for the boy’s hand, but no hope blessed her and she was swallowed by the press.

Chapter 1: Dawn of Strife

Golden leaves spiraled down to rest on the cobblestones, signaling the coming of fall. Wind rippled through the branches, sending the leaves rustling like tiny voices protesting the cold. The rhythms of nature hung thick in the air.

The road passing through the idyllic scene was called the Schein High Road. The name came from its builders, House Schein, one of the five great houses in the early days of the Grantzian Empire. Now, it was managed by the state, with stations erected at set intervals along its length, but traffic was sparse at this early hour and only a handful of stagecoaches were running.

A four-horse carriage barreled along the tranquil road at top speed. In the front seat, an olive-skinned woman kept a deft command of the reins.

“The capital’s in sight, Your Lordship!” she shouted as the carriage struck a stone and pitched wildly.

The woman’s name was Huginn. Once a sellsword in the Duchy of Lichtein, she had served for a time as an aide in the Liberation Army. Now, she put her martial skills to use in Hiro’s service.

“Good. Take us up to the palace.”

Hiro only gave a brief reply. His normally kind features were still and forbidding. He pressed a hand to his chest and breathed deep in a bid to calm his pounding heart.

I won’t achieve anything by panicking. First, I need to see the emperor and find out what’s going on.

The matter at hand was the fate of Liz and Aura, who had gone missing in action in Faerzen. A week had passed since Drix had delivered the grim news in Lebering. More would be known by now. It was possible that the pair were already safe and sound, although the rational part of Hiro’s mind doubted that things would be that easy.

“Surely there is no cause for concern, Your Highness,” said Drix from the seat beside him. “Lady Celia Estrella has her Spiritblade and Brigadier General von Bunadala is one of the finest strategists in the empire.”

The man’s reassurances did not provide much comfort. Hiro only nodded in reply. He knew that Drix was acting out of compassion, but if he opened his mouth, he felt that he might snap.

“Cargo inspection, Your Lordship,” came Huginn’s voice from the front. Hiro looked up to see her peering through the now-open driver’s window.

“Understood. I’ll do the talking.”

He stood up from the sofa and cast a glance out of the side window. The carriage was passing over the bridge into the imperial capital. The road was heaving with people of all stripes and trades: commonfolk from nearby towns, brutish-looking sellswords, merchants from other nations grinning in anticipation of impending profits. All were bound for the great gate in the city walls where guards inspected their belongings. A travel pass or some other kind of documentation was required to enter.

“You there! Halt! From where do you hail?”

A group of several guards flagged the carriage down. Their cautious stares and imposing attitude would have been more than enough to intimidate any ordinary traveler. Wary of causing a stir, Hiro had refrained from displaying any livery, but that only seemed to make them more suspicious. They had his vehicle surrounded in seconds.

“Don’t worry,” he said, leaning out of the window. “I’m not a threat.”

The eyes of the man who seemed to be in charge grew impossibly wide at the sight of his face.

“I guess that means you recognize me,” Hiro said. “Good. Will His Majesty’s signature get me through?”

He produced a letter stamped with the imperial seal and waved it. The chief inspector paled.

“F-Forgive me, Lord Schwartz!”

No sooner were the words out of his mouth than he stood bolt upright and gave a stiff bow. The people around him heard, and within seconds the crowd was in uproar. The situation quickly turned dangerous. The nearby soldiers fought to push the spectators back, but they strained forward to surround the carriage, desperate to catch a glimpse of Hiro.

“I was hoping to get to the palace discreetly. I’m in something of a hurry.”

He pointed to the carriage roof, drawing attention to his deliberate lack of livery. The chief inspector realized what he was driving at and looked around at the crowd.

“My apologies, Your Highness. I’ll clear this up right away.” With sweat beading on his forehead, the chief inspector turned around and waved to attract the crowd’s attention. “Nothing to see here!” he shouted. “Only a look-alike! There’s no Lord Schwartz, just a band of traveling players!”

The man’s improvisation sounded slightly desperate, but it wasn’t bad for a spur-of-the-moment excuse. In any case, the people seemed to swallow it. They returned to the inspection queue, grumbling about wasting their time.

“Sorry for the bother, sirs!” the chief inspector continued. “Let this carriage through! We’ve caused them enough trouble!”

His subordinates forced their way into the crowd and pushed them back, clearing a path for the carriage. As they set off once more, Hiro turned to look out of the back window. The chief inspector was bowing furiously behind them, his face dreadfully pale—probably in anticipation of some kind of punishment. He had only been doing his duty. Hiro wasn’t the kind of person to take offense over that.

I’ll have to send a messenger later to thank him for a job well done.

Whatever the case, the incident had expedited their passage through the gate. Beyond lay the central boulevard. In spite of the early hour, the roadside stalls were already bustling with people—noblewomen clad in fine silks, scholars gathering around imported pottery, cooks sampling spices of all hues, children swarming to the smell of frying meat. The crisis in Faerzen seemed to be the last thing on the city’s mind.

I assumed the palace was suppressing news of whatever happened, but perhaps I was jumping to conclusions.

It seemed more likely that the news had simply yet to arrive. Any concrete information would have spread through the city like wildfire. There were no locks for the people’s mouths. Even regarding events beyond the western territories, the number of foreign merchants passing through the capital would render an information blackout next to impossible.

Word will spread sooner or later. If not today, then tomorrow or the day after.

The Warmaiden and the Valditte commanded incredible popularity in the capital. If the commonfolk learned that they had been defeated, popular sentiment would pitch toward warmongering.

And the winners in that case will be the foreign nations waiting for the empire to show signs of weakness. We can’t let Faerzen distract us from the bigger picture.

If they didn’t put down the Faerzen Resistance immediately, the collapse of the west would be unavoidable, and that would put paid to any ambitions of unifying Soleil.

I wonder what the emperor’s plotting...

Hiro looked out of the window to take his mind off things. The carriage had passed beneath the statues of the Divines that watched over the central boulevard and was crossing the fountain plaza beyond. From there, it was a straight shot north to the austere shadow of the imperial palace of Venezyne.

“Muninn.”

“Something you need, chief?”

The scar-faced man opposite straightened in his seat. He was Muninn, the elder brother of Huginn, who was handling the reins. Both had taken part in a slave uprising in Lichtein three months prior, where Muninn had served as a lieutenant to the Liberation Army’s commander, Garda Meteor. Like the rest of the rebels, he had come under Hiro’s wing after their defeat at the hands of the Fourth Legion.

“While I’m meeting with the emperor, could you head to the eastern quarter and find out what the Knights of the Golden Lion are up to?”

A central rose garden partitioned the sprawling palace complex into four quarters. The eastern one hosted the barracks and training grounds of the Knights of the Golden Lion, the First Legion’s elite troops. To the south was the tightly guarded entrance, all watchtowers and guard outposts; to the north, the palace of Venezyne itself, the beating heart of the empire; and to the west, a residential district where the most powerful noble families kept their estates.

“I’ll see it done.” Muninn gave a firm nod. Although normally an easygoing sort, his flippant attitude evaporated when he was assigned serious responsibilities.

“And Drix, I have a job for you too.”

“Your will is my command, Your Highness.”

“I want you to find out what First Prince Stovell is up to. If you can’t get close to the man himself, ask around about his recent activities. I’ll take any scraps you can find.”

“As you wish.”

“I’ll see you both later. Good luck.”

“Yes, Your Highness!” they chorused.

With that, Hiro opened the door and stepped out of the carriage.

“What about me, Your Lordship?” a voice asked.

The question came from Huginn. She seemed confused, either peeved by or concerned about having been left out.

“You stay here and watch the carriage. You’ve driven us all the way from Lebering. You deserve a break.”

“Watch the carriage?” she repeated, as though not quite understanding.

“That’s right. If you’re going to work for me, you need to keep yourself in peak condition. I want you to rest until I get back.”

Muninn and Drix were already splitting off to attend to their respective duties. Huginn stared after them resentfully for a moment before sighing in resignation and turned back to Hiro.

“Carriage-watching it is, then. If you think that’s best.” She nodded in begrudging acceptance.

“Good. Don’t worry, I won’t be long.”

Waving to her over his shoulder, Hiro set out toward the palace. As he ascended the spotless steps of the flagstone stairs, a magnificent set of doors came into view. Fierce-looking guards stood on either side. They greeted him with a bow.

“Welcome, Lord Hiro Schwartz. Chancellor Graeci awaits you.”

As Hiro drew closer, they opened the doors in unison. The fragrant air contained within filtered out, bathing him in warmth. The scent of the timeworn structure calmed the heart, just like it had one thousand years ago. Hiro smiled as he stepped inside. It was hard not to feel nostalgic.

I have a lot of memories here. It feels like coming home.

A large crowd awaited him inside. At their head was Chancellor Graeci, surrounded by officials whom Hiro assumed must be advisors.

“Lord Hiro Schwartz,” the aged man said. “Your presence has been sorely missed.”

“It’s been too long, Chancellor.”

With greetings exchanged, Graeci turned aside and inclined his head. “You may proceed to the throne room. His Majesty awaits.”

“Thank you.”

At Graeci’s ushering, Hiro continued onward. The chancellor fell in behind him, and his aides followed. The group was large enough that their footsteps echoed down the passage. Hiro wondered at the need for the escort, but his question was soon answered.

“A petition from the citizens of the central territories, my lord. They claim that they are being unfairly taxed, but the house responsible is a relative of House Krone...”

“Caution the perpetrators in my name. Firmly. A civil uprising is the last thing we can afford in times like these.”

“My lord, the heir to House Nikkel requests an audience with His Majesty.”

“Burn it. Nothing he could say will change his house’s punishment. Don’t pester me with such trifles.”

“A northern noble claims to have discovered a new vein of ore, my lord, but it lies in a gorge filled with monsters. He requests that the crown foot a portion of the expenses for the extermination.”

“What imbecile wrote this report? There’s hardly anything here. Send a messenger and bring me the man in person.”

As they walked, the officials handed reports to Graeci for him to issue appropriate responses.

“You must excuse me, Lord Hiro,” the chancellor said. “I realize that this is no place for matters of state.”

“There’s nothing to excuse. I don’t think I’ve heard anything I shouldn’t have.”

Hiro’s welcome must have been crammed into a very busy schedule. The chancellor was being hounded by his duties even as they walked. It was not hard to guess why. With the situation in Faerzen taking precedence, a lot of matters must have been left unattended. Normally, addressing such problems was exactly what these aides were for, but all of the cases that Hiro had overheard required difficult judgment calls that they likely couldn’t make on their own.

Still, Chancellor Graeci’s schedule was the least of Hiro’s concerns.

“I’ve heard that Aura is cut off behind enemy lines, while Liz was driven back by a Draali force. Is that true?”

“To the best of our knowledge, yes. It seems that Lady Celia Estrella was riding to Brigadier General von Bunadala’s aid when she was caught in a Draali ambush. Of course, it is hard to know exactly what happened, but...”

Growing impatient with the methodical explanation, Hiro hurried the chancellor to the point. “Are they safe?”

“Brigadier General von Bunadala has taken refuge in a nearby fort, where she remains. As for Lady Celia Estrella...regrettably, she appears to have been taken captive by Draal.”

Hiro fell silent, sensing the weight in the man’s words, but his knowledge and experience immediately went to work devising plans. How could he achieve the best outcome? What would saving Liz take? If the grand duchy was keeping her captive, he could prepare a suitable ransom, but if the Faerzen Resistance were the ones holding her, they would probably demand more than he could give. Their most likely demand would be for the empire to retreat from Faerzen entirely, but the emperor would be unwilling to give up his hard-won conquest. That would put Liz’s life in danger.

Another approach, then. He could seek out elements in Faerzen who were disaffected with the Resistance and bring them down from within...but that would require a lot of time and effort, neither of which he had.

This is bad.

Scheme after scheme fell apart in his mind. With each failure, he searched more desperately for another, but it did not take long for him to realize that none of the knowledge he had cultivated was of any use.

Well, I do still have one idea. My first one. But that’s risky at best.

The plan in question was designed for a scenario where Liz had managed to escape. Now that she was in the enemy’s clutches, it would only put her in danger.

Hiro felt himself growing more and more trapped, like an insect caught in a spider’s web. Just as his brain reached the point of seizing up entirely, he punched himself in the leg and forcibly derailed his train of thought.

Now is the time for calm. Tying myself in knots won’t solve anything.

Even so, a shadow fell over his face, and anxiety marred his usual composure.

“His Majesty himself will tell you more.”

Graeci’s words pulled him back to reality. A lavish set of double doors stood before them. Absorbed in his thoughts, he hadn’t realized that they had arrived at the throne room.

The guards on either side swung the doors open. The first thing Hiro noticed upon stepping inside was the absence of any nobles. Even the imperial guard, who would usually protect the emperor, were nowhere to be seen. His brow furrowed in suspicion as he made his way along the red carpet toward the throne.

“Fourth Prince Hiro Schwartz,” a voice issued from the throne. “I am glad to see you safely returned.”

The emperor was sixty-seven in years, but he had the vigor of a man half that age. The presence he commanded was astounding. Still, his face was graver than when Hiro had seen him last, and his voice was tinged with anger.

“I must commend you on quelling the rebellion in Lebering.”

“With all due respect, Your Majesty,” Hiro said evenly, “that was Princess Claudia’s doing, not mine.” He fell to one knee and bowed his head.

The emperor narrowed his eyes, intrigued. “Under ordinary circumstances, I would ask you for a more complete account. Alas, there are more important matters at hand. Raise your head.”

Hiro lifted his black eyes to look up at the throne.

“I suppose it falls to me to explain what has occurred.”

With some irritation, the emperor launched into a concise account of the situation to the west. In brief, Aura had struck out from the rest of Third Prince Brutahl’s forces and fallen for an enemy ruse, ending up surrounded by the Faerzen Resistance. Seeing a chance to turn a disaster into a victory, Liz had set out, meaning to crush the enemy between her troops and Aura’s. Unfortunately, Draali forces had chosen that moment to stage an incursion into Faerzen. They had blindsided the imperials mid-battle. Faced with an army in full momentum, Liz had elected to retreat. Perhaps out of a sense of responsibility, she had taken the rearguard, but she had failed to halt the enemy. Her forces were routed and summarily captured.

“Rescuing Celia Estrella is of paramount importance,” the emperor concluded. “As you are no doubt aware, Lævateinn has taken no other master since Emperor Artheus. She is too valuable to lose.”

“With respect, Your Majesty, are you saying that we should leave Brigadier General von Bunadala to die?”

“Precisely. I have received most emphatic requests for her safe return from Third Prince Brutahl and others, but the empire has no shortage of talent equal to this Warmaiden. I see neither the urgency nor the value in paying the costs of her retrieval.”

“With respect, Your Majesty, I believe you are too quick to give up on her. She is young and her talent is still budding, but given time, she could equal Mars himself.”

“Then you would have me ascribe this blunder to the follies of youth?”

The emperor’s eyes flared with impatience. He produced a scroll of paper from his pocket and tossed it at Hiro’s feet, gesturing with a thrust of his chin for him to read.

Hiro opened the scroll up. The sum written inside would bankrupt a small country. It wouldn’t outright destabilize the western territories, but they would very much feel it. Most likely, the emperor intended to redirect the nobles’ ire toward Aura before it erupted into outright rebellion.

“Even Mars himself stumbled once or twice, Your Majesty,” Hiro said. “Had it not been for Emperor Artheus’s forgiving heart, he would never have become the Hero King of Twinned Black that the people love to this day.”

If Aura truly was at fault, it was only right that she should be punished, but this situation would never have arisen if the emperor had not pushed Faerzen to the brink in the first place. To push all responsibility onto her and leave her to die was myopic in the extreme.

“Fourth Prince Hiro Schwartz.” The emperor’s voice dripped with undisguised displeasure. “You would liken me to His Majesty the First Emperor?”

Artheus’s deeds still echoed through the ages. By contrast, Emperor Greiheit had accomplished nothing worthy of renown, and his deeds in battle paled next to his ancestor. His gaze turned murderous. Unsurprisingly, the comparison had wounded his pride.

He must be at his wits’ end. Not that I can blame him, with every nation on the continent trying to plant a knife in the empire’s back.

Inwardly, Hiro sighed, but outwardly he only shrugged. At that, a gust of wind blew through the chamber, although the windows were shut. A cool breeze grazed Hiro’s cheek, and an invisible blade pricked at his throat. Even so, his gaze never wavered as he looked up at the throne.

A growing pressure set the air groaning as the pair stared wordlessly at one another. The emperor’s knifelike eyes seemed to pierce to the bottom of Hiro’s very soul. Hiro only gazed back with unflappable composure, the slightest of smiles on his lips. For a long time, their contest dragged on, until at last the emperor broke into a grin.

“Interesting. Out of respect for your boldness, I will reconsider Brigadier General von Bunadala’s punishment. If only I had courtiers with eyes like yours, I would sit far more comfortably on this throne.” He sat back and breathed a heavy sigh. “I assume that you have a good reason for being so insistent. Very well, I will hear it.”

“May I ask a question first, Your Majesty?”

“I will answer if it is in my power.”

“Has the grand duchy made any demands for Lady Celia Estrella’s safe return?”

A princess of the Grantzian Empire was a valuable enough hostage on her own. One who was also the wielder of Lævateinn would be priceless. They wouldn’t have taken her alive unless they intended to ransom her. They must have said something.

“Nothing as of yet.”

“I see.”

Hiro looked down, letting a disappointed slump of his shoulders conceal his anger. That wasn’t possible. They must have made some demand that was inconvenient to the emperor. If they truly had said nothing—and that was a big “if”—it could only mean that they were ignorant of Liz’s true worth, but that simply didn’t make sense. Every nation on the continent had heard of the crimson-haired wielder of Lævateinn, and she had been leading an imperial army. The grand duchy and the Faerzen Resistance couldn’t possibly be unaware of her identity.

Whatever the case, the emperor was unlikely to say anything more on the subject, and pressing the point would only irritate him. Hiro wanted to avoid that, if possible—it could easily jeopardize his future plans. This was a moment for compromise. He let the matter drop, with the understanding that the man owed him a debt.

“Then this is what I believe we should do,” he said. All he could do was present his original plan. Considering Liz and Aura’s position, that was the only way.

But it’ll be a race against time. I have to settle this crisis as quickly as possible.

He took a deep breath to calm his nerves and looked back up at the throne. “I propose that we attack Draal.”

The emperor’s brow furrowed. “Oh? Not Faerzen?”

“Fighting both the grand duchy and the Resistance at once would delay the reconstruction of Faerzen by a decade, perhaps even two,” Hiro explained, complete with gestures. “Your Majesty’s dream of unifying Soleil would remain just that.”

“And what makes you so certain? I could easily relinquish Faerzen and make Draal or Steissen my foothold in the west.”

The man was quite incapable of relinquishing Faerzen—that was the cause of this mess—but Hiro bit back that particular observation. “I do not believe you could, Your Majesty. Or rather, I believe that would be categorically impossible.”

In an instant, the information he had gathered clicked into place, and he shaped it into an argument that not even the emperor could disagree with.

“Relinquishing Faerzen would not placate the Resistance. If anything, they would see it as an opportunity to take revenge on the western territories. If we were to march on Draal and Steissen at the same time, we would be at war with three nations on one front. The west would collapse, potentially shaking the empire to its foundations. And that would put paid to any hope of unification.”

“If you understand that, why propose an attack on Draal? You will accomplish nothing but wasting time.” The emperor heaved a heavy sigh. “And these constant battles have left the western territories with no more men to spare.”

During the first Faerzen campaign, Aura’s tactical genius had snatched victory from the jaws of defeat, but not before Third Prince Brutahl’s blunders had incurred heavy losses. During the second—led by the emperor himself—Stovell had returned covered in glory, but he had sacrificed a lot of lives to sack the capital. Even now, a number of Liz’s soldiers had been supplied by the western nobles; her defeat would have taken many of them out of commission.

“But asking the central nobles to field the troops would take too long,” Hiro added, rising to his feet. “Brigadier General von Bunadala’s fort could easily fall while we gather men. And for all that time, we would be leaving the sixth princess at the mercy of her captors.”

“That alone should convince you to abandon this plan. I will not launch some fool attack on Draal if it might cost me Lævateinn. You will ride to Faerzen and join Third Prince Brutahl.”

“With respect, I believe that’s all the more reason to strike first and strike now.” Hiro ignored the emperor outright. A clack of his boots on the stone floor drew the man’s attention. “Draal and the Faerzen Resistance believe that the final battle is at hand, and both of their backs are against the wall. The grand duchy has only just signed an armistice with Steissen. They must have marched their men straight from one battlefield to another. And the Faerzen Resistance is headless, its support is waning, and its soldiers are physically and mentally exhausted.”

Hiro’s confident oration held the throne room in thrall. The passion in his voice had the power to silence disagreement. Even in the emperor’s presence, he delivered his argument with a regal bearing.

“Our forces are stronger. If you want to advance into the west, let me lead them.”

The emperor narrowed his eyes searchingly. “And from where will you procure your troops? The west has no more to give. The eastern territories will take longer to supply men than the central. Turning to the south would be a fool’s errand when they border Steissen—they will not give up their men gladly, and you have no time to negotiate.”

“I agree, Your Majesty. That is why I will attack Draal with my own forces.”

The emperor’s jaw almost dropped. It was hard to blame him. Hiro’s private forces numbered fewer than three thousand, five if one included new recruits. The grand duchy would not have marched all of their forces into Faerzen; they might have signed a peace accord with Steissen, but they would still be wary if they had any sense. Even a conservative estimate would put the nation’s remaining forces at upward of fifty thousand men. The suggestion of attacking with five thousand would wipe the smile from a jester’s face. That was a madman’s proposition.

“You are surprised, Your Majesty. Draal will be too. Isn’t that how wars are won? I will strike where they least expect me to, knock them reeling, and frighten their forces back to their homeland.” Hiro lifted a hand toward the throne. “And when they return, I will wipe them out in a single stroke and force them to sue for peace.”

Laugh if you want, his declaration seemed to say, but I’ll be the last one laughing. His fingertips brushed his eyepatch, and his lips twisted into a fearless grin.

“You had best start choosing diplomats, Your Majesty.”

That was more than a suggestion. It was a challenge—a veritable blade of words that struck the emperor in the chest. For a long moment, the man was too stunned to speak, but soon enough his throat began to quiver with laughter.

“Ku ha ha ha ha!”

Hiro blinked in surprise. It was rare to see the emperor so much as crack a smile. Some time passed before the man spoke again, and even after his laughter finally subsided, an amused gleam lingered in his eyes. Hiro’s audacity seemed to have impressed him.

“Very well. Let us see if you can match your words. You have free rein. I will be watching.”

“Then before I go, I must ask permission to—”

“You have it. Did I not say you have free rein?”

“Are you certain, Your Majesty?”

The emperor nodded solemnly and raised a hand. “Given your display here today, I expect you to acquit yourself. You need not beg my permission for every little thing.”

“Of course, Your Majesty. In that case, I must depart immediately. Time is pressing.”

With a small bow, Hiro turned and exited the throne room. Soon, he would be very busy. Several letters needed sending, but he had no time to pore over ink and paper in his chambers. He would have to write them en route. Drix could handle their delivery. The man would likely be able to guess their contents by their destinations, but it wouldn’t be a problem if he reported that knowledge to his superior. It would all come out soon enough anyway.

And then I’ll meet up with Garda in the western territories and head into Draal.

As he left the palace, putting his thoughts in order, he found Huginn and the rest waiting in front of the carriage. She bounded up to him.

“Are you done, Your Lordship?”

“Yes.” Hiro offered her a smile. “It went well.” He climbed into the carriage, sat down, and turned to Muninn as the other man got in behind him. “How did your investigation go?”

Muninn grinned. “The Knights of the Golden Lion? Nowhere to be seen. The place was as silent as the grave. One of the servants told me they’d headed out somewhere two days ago. Couldn’t find out where, though. Sorry about that.” He rubbed the back of his neck as he dipped his head apologetically.