The Mythical Hero's Otherworld Chronicles: Volume 5 E-Book

Tatematsuri

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

Seitenzahl: 290

Beschreibung

The bitter conflict in Faerzen has drawn to a close with the Grantzian Empire’s victory. As Hiro and his allies return to the capital, it would seem that, for the moment, the bloodshed is done. Yet only a fool would take this temporary lull for a lasting peace. The empire’s foundations are creaking. War is coming; indeed, for those with eyes to see, its harbingers are already here. Second Prince Selene has left the north, an almost unheard-of occurrence. The beleaguered House Krone scrabbles to maintain its grip on power. First Prince Stovell, to the astonishment of all, announces that he will relinquish his place in the line of succession. And as Hiro plots to place Liz on the throne, blood is spilled at last on imperial soil. When schemes months, years, and even centuries in the making come to a head in the capital, who will prevail—and at what cost?

Leseprobe

Prologue

Corpses carpeted the floor in vast numbers—some slashed, others burned, yet more cut to pieces. All were so brutalized that they could not possibly retain life. Blood poured forth in an unceasing torrent, a riot of charnel blossoms vast enough to stain the world red.

With a discordant crash, the ceiling fell in, burying the sea of crimson beneath a cascade of ashen dust. Once the seat of grandeur and the pinnacle of glory, the throne room was now collapsing. Beneath the acrid smoke and the putrid reek of decay lay the deeper stench of death.

In the heart of that vision of hell, a woman lay beneath a mountain of rubble. The once-lustrous turquoise of her hair was dull with dust and matted with red, and blood trickled from the corner of her mouth. One could not tell whether she was alive or dead. A short distance away, a crimson-haired girl sat slumped against a pillar. The cruel wounds crisscrossing her body spoke to the ferocity of whatever battle had been fought here, but as to its cause, they kept their silence.

Deeper, now, to the imperial throne and the headless body seated upon it. The emperor’s torso was still clad in the gold-threaded finery of the ruler of the empire. His head lay at the feet of the man once known as the first prince.

“How many of you upstarts must I endure?” The man scowled, his hand pressed to his face. “Do you not realize that you are outclassed?”

Opposite him stood a black-haired, black-eyed boy, his features soft, his stance relaxed.

“Time for you to die,” the boy said, and his mouth pulled into a savage grin.

Chapter 1: The Growth of the Valditte

The ninth day of the twelfth month of Imperial Year 1023

Chill winds swirled across the plain as winter set in. The undergrowth was dry and withered, and golden leaves adorned the trees until some sudden gust sent them dancing out over the thoroughfare. The Schein High Road, one of the nation’s arterial carriageways, was busy with villagers drawing oxen. A young child gleefully swung a stick like a sword. His mother smiled, his other hand clasped in her own. It was a portrait of a happy family that one might find anywhere, a typical tableau of country life—all but for the unsettling hum encroaching upon the scene. The low rumbling reverberated in the pit of the stomach, sending vibrations passing from the ground up through the legs.

A host of ironclad soldiers appeared on the road. At their head, a black dragon banner fluttered in the light of the midday sun. The villagers’ eyes widened. They hurried to the roadside and bowed their heads.

The force numbered three thousand, and it marched beneath the standard of the War God’s scion, the One-Eyed Dragon. Other banners also asserted their presence among the press, a lily on a crimson field and a sword and shield on a violet field among them. The escort’s affiliations were as varied as its colors, with soldiers donated by the western nobles riding alongside eight hundred men from the Crow Legion.

“Whoa...” the child breathed. Eyes shining with astonishment, he stepped out into the road.

“No!” His mother hurriedly pulled him back, but she was too slow. Horses screamed as the opulent carriage ground to a halt. Her face grew pale. Her child had impeded the passage of royalty, a crime punishable by death.

“Do you know whose carriage you have just obstructed?!” A soldier’s voice rang out in the winter air, colored with enough fury to make anyone want to cover their ears. The villagers blanched. It was a wonder nobody screamed.

“Please, sir, show mercy!” the mother begged, her hands pressed together in apology. “He didn’t mean any harm!”

The villagers joined in, pleading for the two to be spared, but the soldier would not be deterred. If anything were to befall a member of the royal family, it would be his head on the block, perhaps literally. If he was lucky, he would lose his position. If he was unlucky and found responsible, he could lose his life.

He raised a whip high, his face flushed with anger. “There will be no mercy! Let this be a lesson—”

“Enough,” came a voice. “Leave him be.”

The soldiers and villagers turned as one. Out from the open carriage window peered a boy with eyes as black as his hair—a hue all but unheard of in Aletia. The peasants stared agog in the brief seconds before the soldiers closed ranks to shield the boy from view.

“You must understand, Your Highness! The boy obstructed your carriage—”

“And your devotion to your duty is appreciated, but not necessary this time.” Hiro’s eyes flashed; that was not a request. The soldier fell silent. “Royal carriages rarely pass this way. It’s only natural for a child to get excited. Nobody could have foreseen his actions. Let him be.”

“Understood, Your Highness.”

“And give him this, if you would.” Hiro handed the soldier a small pouch.

The man’s eyes widened as he glanced at the contents. “Confectionary, Your Highness?”

Hiro grinned. “To buy the loyalty of the next generation.”

“As you wish, Your Highness,” the soldier sighed.

As the villagers looked on, wondering what kind of royal would behave so, he turned hesitantly back to the child and handed over the pouch. The boy’s eyes shone with delight as he uttered a hasty thanks.

The soldier didn’t quite seem to know what to make of the situation. “It’s Lord Hiro you should be thanking, not me,” he said, looking awkwardly between the two.

With a smile, Hiro gestured down the road. “Shall we be off?”

“I, er...” The soldier’s confusion was written on his face, but he could not refuse an order from a prince of the empire. He snapped back to attention and bowed. “At once, Your Highness!” he barked, filling the wintry air with warm fervor.

“Bless you, milord! Bless you!” the villagers cried.

Hiro withdrew back inside the carriage. As it began moving once more, he looked around the interior at the other occupants. “Now,” he said, “where was I?”

A silver-haired girl raised a hand. “The emperor’s letter.”

Brigadier General Treya Verdan Aura von Bunadala was, in a word, cold—her expressionless features betrayed not a sliver of emotion. Although her allegiance lay with the western noble families, exceptional circumstances now saw her accompanying Hiro to the capital.

Ideally we would have waited for Liz to make a full recovery,but this left us no choice.

Hiro looked down at the envelope in his hand. A summons from the emperor himself. Aura’s fate had been decided, and Liz needed to be reprimanded for her recent failure.

If she’s lucky, she’ll get house arrest; if she’s unlucky, demotion. And if she’s very unlucky, she could be stripped of her place in the order of succession.

Leading twenty thousand men to defeat would leave a stain on anybody’s record. While the fiasco had in a sense been inevitable, Liz could not expect to walk away unscathed—affording her special treatment on account of her royal status would draw protests from the nobles. Much the same was true for Aura. Still, their punishment was unlikely to be too harsh. Hiro’s invasion of the Grand Duchy of Draal had seen to that.

At the end of the day, it all comes down to the emperor’s decision.

With a deep sigh, Hiro looked at Liz, who was seated next to Aura. Her expression was grave, a stark change from her usual grin. Still, at least she was recovering from her injuries. With the exception of her nails, which were yet to grow back, her Spiritblade’s blessing had sealed her wounds with almost frightening speed.

“And what did the letter say?”

Hiro turned to the source of the voice, a hooded woman sitting on Aura’s other side: Culann Scáthach du Faerzen, former princess of Faerzen, leader of the Faerzen Resistance, and the commander who had driven Aura to the brink of defeat. Her full expression was hidden beneath the shadows of her cowl, but the mention of the emperor had made her lips twist in anger.

Hiro avoided commenting on her reaction. “It said... Well, it would probably be quicker to read it yourselves.”

The letter was technically addressed to him alone, but its contents were nothing worth keeping secret. He opened it out and held it up. The trio huddled together as they read. Aura was the first to react; she shrugged and sat back in her seat, having evidently expected the contents. Next was Liz, who grimaced as she went down the page but quickly steeled her resolve, clenched her fist, and nodded to herself. Scáthach simply breathed deep as though trying to calm some hidden fury. Had the emperor been there in the carriage, she likely would have leaped at him, spear in hand.

“Now that we’re all on the same page, I’d like to talk about what happens next.” Hiro smiled sheepishly at the three very different responses. “It’ll depend on how things play out, but I expect our opponents at court will make as big an issue of Liz and Aura’s mistakes as they can.”

They were certain to call for harsh punishment. This was a chance to boot Liz clean out of the competition for the throne—only a fool would overlook it. Their anger had to be redirected elsewhere.

“Conveniently, we have House Krone and the atrocities they committed in Faerzen. They’ll make the perfect scapegoat.”

Exposing their crimes would provide Liz’s opponents with fresher meat to sink their teeth into, and the resulting convictions would dramatically weaken House Krone—or that was the plan, at least. Still, Hiro wanted to hear the opinions of the other three before proceeding.

“I’m all for that,” Liz said, “but it’s not enough.” She stared back at Hiro with determination in her eyes. Its flame was not quite steady, but he could tell that she was earnestly wracking her brains to come up with an ideal solution. “They should foot the bill for the Faerzen reconstruction too.”

Hiro nodded. “Agreed. They deserve to pay for their crimes.”

It was important to be gracious to the people of other nations as well as one’s own. If Liz was to stand at the zenith of the empire, she could not afford to survey the world with a blinkered view.

“That’s already taken care of, though,” he added. “Rosa will see to it.”

An amusing spectacle surely awaited them once they arrived at the capital.

Liz’s eyebrows rose. “Really?”

“She seemed like the best choice for the job.” Hiro smiled. “I’m sure she won’t disappoint.”

Liz’s expression turned pensive again. “Then I suppose all that’s left...is how I’m going to demonstrate to Father that I’ve taken responsibility.”

That was her obligation as a princess, her duty as a citizen, her burden as one who aspired to rule.

I see, Hiro thought. You really are well on your way.

While he couldn’t guess what had provided the impetus, it was clear that Liz had begun to walk her own path.

Kingship or conquest. I wonder which she’ll choose...

Either way, he couldn’t deny a certain sadness at seeing her taking steps outside his reach. It was a good sign, all told, but it also augured the advancement of his own plans.

In the near term, I’ll focus on seating her on the throne.

That alone, however, wouldn’t be enough. He would have to work in parallel to further his personal goals—but that was something he couldn’t allow Liz, Rosa, or anybody else in the empire to catch wind of. Even Garda, his closest confidant, did not know the full scope of his intentions.

I’ve sought out a certain party’s cooperation, but I’m not stupid enough to trust her.

Their paths were beginning to converge. Already, their interests aligned. As such, it had been practical to make overtures, but while his collaborator was certainly capable, it would be foolish to expect her loyalty.

He looked outside the window. In the distance lay the white expanse of the north.

Still, I can use her. I’ll never seize the initiative without taking a few risks, so I might as well have one more pawn on the board. Her heart might be black, but for now, she’ll be playing for white.

As Hiro brewed his schemes, Aura’s eyes were boring a hole into Scáthach. The seconds ticked on, but she said nothing, only continued to stare. Scáthach squirmed awkwardly in her seat, clearly uncomfortable.

Liz, oblivious to the tension, raised her head with renewed determination in her crimson eyes. “Hiro, once we reach the capital...there’s something I want to talk about.”

From the steel in her voice, Hiro could tell that she had chosen her course. The true gravity of that decision remained to be seen, but in any case...

“All right. But there’s still time. Think it over.”

“I will. But I’ve decided something. No more doubts.” Her resolve would not falter. That much was clear.

“Well, then,” he murmured. “I look forward to hearing what you have to say.”

He cast another glance at the three girls, burning the sight of them into his mind. Liz was spreading her wings and setting out on her own path. Aura, too, seemed to have discovered a new course in Faerzen. Even Scáthach was moving toward the dream of rebuilding her homeland. Anger and hatred might currently rule her thoughts, but once her vengeance was done, she would be able to think about the future.

I think they’re going to be all right.

Their convictions were more than strong enough to forge ahead without him. Finding their resolve gave people wings, causing them to grow with astonishing speed. So it had been for him and Artheus—they had reveled in the discovery like fish newly taken to water, and the ripples of their wake had coalesced into the Grantzian Empire. Once the trio had reached their full potential, Hiro would have no more part to play.

And that’ll be the real test.

Significant, if foreseeable, strife awaited the empire. If worst came to worst, war could engulf the entire continent.

The Grantzian Empire has ruled Soleil for a thousand years, but the lion has grown weak in its old age.

The beast’s claws remained sharp, but its eyes had grown dim, its guts rotten, and its bones brittle. Sic transit gloria mundi—all glories must fade. The strong preyed on the weak; such was the way of the world, and no amount of storied pomp could resist the laws of nature. At the turning of the age, when the empire teetered on the brink of destruction—that would be when he was most needed.

Could that be what Artheus meant?

Words flashed through Hiro’s mind—words spoken by his old friend in a dream shortly after his return to Aletia. To think the Time of Turning would fall so distant. He had asked what that meant, but Artheus had never answered, only instructing him to live life as he pleased. In the end, his friend’s one-sided speech had been cut short prematurely, and Hiro had not heard his final words.

What exactly is it you want from me?

He patted his chest, trying to put himself at ease, but the slip of card that Artheus had once given him was long gone. As far as he could tell, it had disappeared during the final battle with the Faerzen Resistance, most likely after he had lost control on seeing Liz frozen in ice. Strangely, he seemed physically unaffected—or no, that wasn’t quite true. A change had overcome him, one that was slowly but surely worming its way into his flesh.

Perhaps this is some kind of punishment, he thought wryly before shaking his head to dispel his unease. That wasn’t worth thinking about. He had more immediate problems to deal with before he could start worrying about himself.

“First,” he said, “we’ll use the imperial audience to strip power away from House Krone.”

That would give Liz a push, just in case. She had promised no more doubts, but there was always a danger that someone as kindhearted as her would hesitate to put themselves before others. That possibility needed to be mitigated.

“While the rest of the court is reeling, we can shore up the eastern nobles’ power.”

Hiro had in fact instructed Rosa to pivot to backing Liz instead of him in the near future, but he wasn’t going to tell Liz that—not because Aura was there, with her western connections, and not because of the minor detail of Scáthach’s presence, but to avoid making Liz self-conscious. Putting unnecessary pressure on her wouldn’t help anyone.

“The central nobles will fall even deeper into paranoia and start scheming to switch allegiances to the east. All we have to do then is ensure First Prince Stovell’s removal from the order of succession and House Krone will be finished.”

In view of Aura’s presence, he avoided mentioning the western nobles directly, but they would be in no position to challenge the east—the fighting in Faerzen had left them significantly weakened. With apologies to the man, Third Prince Brutahl’s position in the order of succession was not long for this world. That left the northern nobles, who backed Second Prince Selene, and the southern, who backed nobody. The latter, who were still watching and waiting, were the most worrisome presence on the board; most likely, they were aiming to take advantage of the rest of the empire’s squabbles to better their own interests, and if they began colluding against Hiro, that could mean real trouble. There was little hope for help from Rosa’s eastern nobles on that score—they could handle their central and western counterparts, but pitting them against the north and south as well would be far too much to ask.

“I’m torn on whether or not we should turn to Kiork,” he mused aloud.

Kiork’s influence in the south was growing, but against House Muzuk—a great house and the leader of the southern nobles—he would be very much outmatched.

“I know how good a statesman he is,” Liz opined, “so it’s not like I don’t trust his abilities, but what could he do by himself?”

She was right. Kiork alone didn’t have the resources to help, and the slightest misstep could cost him the Gurinda Mark. They needed more allies, but all the recent conflict had left them with few opportunities to forge political connections—and now they were out of time to seek out people they could trust.

If we show any hesitation now, we’ll end up with a knife in the back.

He had seen it often enough in other nations. The moment Hiro’s power began to ebb, his allies would turn on him.

I might have hit the limit of what I can accomplish on my own.

Rosa and Kiork were assisting him as best they could, but he couldn’t take on every other noble in the realm when they were his only connections outside of the military. A thousand years ago, he would have had some sway in politics, but in the modern era he did not have the authority he had once enjoyed as Schwartz.

Aura raised a hand. “We do have one other ally.”

“We do?”

Aura nodded. “To the east. A small nation with great power.”

Instantly, Hiro understood. On the eastern coast of Soleil was the nation of Baum, home to the Spirit King’s sanctum. Its matriarch, the archpriestess, commanded considerable power across the continent. Even the Grantzian Empire could not disregard her will. With her assistance, they could easily steal a march on any opposing nobles, and she and her nation were likely to help Hiro if he asked.

I’d like to avoid that if possible. Baum couldn’t survive outright war.

The nation’s political influence was significant, but long centuries under the auspices of the empire had left it with little military might to speak of. Turning to the archpriestess for aid with prospective enemies on all sides would risk seeing it wiped from the map.

“That’s a possibility,” Hiro replied, “but we’d have to be extremely careful about how we played it.”

There was no harm in making backup plans, he supposed. At the very least, it would be worth writing a letter asking the archpriestess to lend Liz her support.

Aura cast a glance out of the window before looking back at Hiro. “We’re getting close to the capital.”

“Then we’re early,” Liz chipped in. “The audience is tomorrow, isn’t it?”

Hiro nodded. “We can spend the night in Rosa’s mansion. I sent a messenger a while back. She should be expecting us.”

Rosa was already in the city. As soon as she had gotten word of Liz’s capture, she had stationed herself there with her troops so as to be ready to act at a moment’s notice.

A thought struck him. “What will you do, Aura?”

“I’ll stay with you and Countess von Kelheit.”

“Are you sure that won’t get you in trouble?”

The western nobles were likely to object to that, possibly to the point of endangering her station. Moreover, she risked causing headaches for the other members of House Bunadala.

Aura shook her head. “My family means to side with Liz.”

“That’s...news to me. Is it all right if I ask why?”

Aura bobbed her head in a dainty little nod. “The west has been torn to shreds.”

The endless succession of conflicts in Faerzen had put tremendous strain on the western nobles’ treasuries, and House Krone’s schemes had them jumping at shadows. Both factors had them fearing being held responsible for Aura’s mistakes.

“And there’s another reason I’m joining you.” Aura lowered her gaze sadly before looking back up apologetically. “The western nobles are going to cut ties with me.”

To ensure her protection in transit, she explained, her father—the head of House Bunadala—had instructed her to enter Hiro’s service. No doubt the man had judged that her enemies couldn’t do her harm as long as she was under Hiro’s wing.

She sat up straight and bowed her head. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

Her perilous situation was the product of her own mistakes, for which she had been prepared to face due punishment. Involving Hiro and the others seemed to leave a sour taste in her mouth.

“Don’t worry about it,” Hiro said.

“Right!” Liz piped up. “You’ve got nothing to apologize for!”

“Oomph!”

Liz wrapped Aura in an embrace, sending the breath bursting from her lungs, and began stroking her head. Aura seemed less than thrilled by the situation, but she was powerless to resist.

Hiro smiled as he watched their antics, but soon enough a shadow fell over his face. “Is the west really under that much pressure?” he whispered to himself. The only reason to relinquish a strategic mind like Aura’s was if they couldn’t guarantee they could defend her. Their hands might be full with their own affairs, but even so, it was hard to see their decision as anything other than a mistake.

“They’ll hold together for a few more days.” Aura lowered her eyes. “But Third Prince Brutahl is going to start losing some powerful nobles very soon.”

“And then either the western faction will disintegrate or they’ll change heads,” Hiro supplied.

The current leader of the western nobles was House Münster, Third Prince Brutahl’s family by birth.

“The wealth that’s held them together has run out,” Aura said.

Loyalty rarely ran deeper than the bottom of a purse. That was true in any world. Aura, however, likely still felt a certain amount of obligation toward Brutahl. Would she be able to fight against him if the time came? That was a real concern. She was stubborn in her loyalties; at the very least, she would certainly hesitate. That today’s enemy could be tomorrow’s friend and vice versa might be the nature of war, but that didn’t make it any less bitter a pill to swallow.

Hiro sighed. “The road ahead seems less clear than ever.”

House Krone, the heads of the central nobles, had lost the confidence of the emperor. House Münster, the heads of the western nobles, were also on the verge of being thrown to the wolves. Was that truly just coincidence, or was some hidden hand at work? If so, how far did its reach extend? He could think of no possible culprits but the southern and northern nobles. Rosa’s eastern nobles could be responsible, but it was hard to imagine that they had been working in secret without telling him.

All the little mismatched ends I’ve overlooked are starting to come undone.

Now that he thought about it, even his own actions might end up playing into this hidden foe’s hands. He would have to be extremely cautious in how he proceeded. He could not even necessarily rely on outside help—turmoil was brewing all across Soleil, and only the empire seemed to be concerned with keeping it in check.

Every nation’s working in its own interests. If anything threatens that, they’ll cut it away like a dead branch.

The countries with whom Hiro had forged relationships could turn on him at any time. What was more, there were several nations on Soleil large enough to rival the empire, and they had presumably taken advantage of the prolonged peace to shore up their armies. Information on those far to the west was regrettably sparse, but he had no doubt that they were eyeing the empire eagerly. The current rate of conflict was not sustainable. The nation his comrades had founded would be soiled and destroyed by fools. That, he would not allow. He had to carry their legacy forward into the coming age.

But that’s easier said than done.

The stage was set for the Grantzian Empire’s downfall. If that was indeed by some party’s design, then he needed to act quickly. Unfortunately, as he had reasoned earlier, he did not have the resources to stop it alone. As dangerous as it was to be on the back foot, he was no longer in a position to seize the initiative.

But then, if everything was going my way, this wouldn’t be any fun.

It was all right, he reassured himself. He had a hand to play. If his opponent was a step ahead, then he would simply have to read a step beyond that.

I’ll see this through, no matter what it takes. Nothing will stand in my way.

Let his enemies deal him a thousand paper cuts. When he struck, it would be to the bone.

As Hiro’s smile grew quietly wider, Liz was busy celebrating Aura’s addition to their group.

“There’s so much you could teach me!” she said, beaming. “I’m just hopeless when it comes to strategy. If you have any textbooks to recommend, I’d love to hear them!”

“Of course.” Aura’s face remained as expressionless as ever, but she radiated faint delight. Seemingly from nowhere, she produced her copy of the Black Chronicle and thrust it toward Liz. “You can’t get better than this.”

Hiro’s smile stiffened. Even Liz’s face turned hesitant. Only Scáthach leaned in with interest.

“Is that the Black Chronicle? Consider me impressed. I had heard it was so rare as to be unobtainable.”

Aura nodded with gusto, her eyes sparkling. “That’s right. You probably know it as an account of Mars’s life until he took the throne, but it’s so much more. It lists all the tactics he used to mislead his enemies, all his strategies that feigned defeat to secure victory, and all sorts of apocrypha that you won’t find in any other text. It’s a veritable compendium of War God knowledge. But that’s not all. It details not only how he became the second emperor, but the events of the Missing Years. It’s worthwhile just for that. Read it and you’ll be satisfied enough to last a lifetime. Don’t, and you’ll regret you were ever born.”

“I... I see. I shall have to read it...later.” Scáthach shied away, intimidated by Aura’s sudden diatribe.

“You should. No, you must. You’ll fall in love with the second emperor, I guarantee it. Read it as soon as you can. It’ll make you thankful to be alive, it’s that addicting. You won’t even have to eat anymore. One reading session is equal to two weeks’ worth of food.” Aura puffed out her chest, as though to say she was living proof.

Scáthach looked incredulous for just a second, but she managed to hide it behind an expression of polite astonishment. “I see. That sounds most impressive.”

“Read it now. Right this second. And then tell me what you think.”

“Right now?! I-I fear I cannot—”

“Why not?”

“Why? Well, I...erm...”

Scáthach panicked as Aura’s eyes grew colder. Hiro smiled weakly. Liz gazed steadily out of the window, out of the conversation and intent on staying that way.

The Missing Years, she said... That was the period of time after I went back to Earth.

Hiro had read that section himself. It included details that only somebody with firsthand knowledge could have known. He had detected no falsehood from it; the Black Chronicle, he felt quite certain, truly had been written by a witness to the events described. That, then, raised a question: why had it appeared now, in the modern day, long after its author had surely died?

Scáthach looked at the spine and cocked her head. “By whose hand is it written? I see only the title.”

“I don’t know. Nobody does.” Aura shook her head sadly before foisting the book on Scáthach again. “But you should still read it.”

A groan escaped Scáthach’s lips as she looked to Hiro for help. Hiro shrank from her gaze and turned to stare out of the window, feeling guilty but unwilling to engage.

There’s only one person I can think of who could have written it. The same person who wanted so badly to make me emperor.

Outside, the sun was setting, the curtain of night settling over the horizon’s twilight blush. At the edge of the scene, throwing a gargantuan shadow across the plain, was a great city—the imperial capital of Cladius, grown only larger over the past thousand years.

Seeing an escape from Aura’s clutches, Scáthach turned to look. An impressed gasp escaped her lips. “So that is the imperial capital. I had heard tales...”

Liz looked surprised. “Have you never been?”

“The empire and Faerzen have been at odds since before I was born. It would not have been wise to visit.”

“Really!” Liz beamed. “Then I’ll have to show you around.”

“By all means,” Scáthach murmured, smiling back.

Aura, sandwiched between them, had question marks written all over her face. As Hiro watched, she began to sway in discomfort.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

She shot a guarded glance around the carriage. “That’s Scáthach, isn’t it?” she hissed so quietly it was barely audible above the rumbling of the wheels.

Hiro gave her a blank look. The other two also turned to stare at Aura in confusion. She frowned, as though confused why her question seemed so strange.

“Um...haven’t you been introduced?”

“No one told me anything.”

“Liz, you didn’t fill her in?”

“I thought you had.”

Hiro had assumed that Liz had handled the explanations. Apparently, she had thought the same of him.

“That does explain why you were glaring at me so.” Scáthach crossed her arms, nodding as though some missing piece had slotted into place.

“Why didn’t you say something sooner?” Hiro asked. They had been traveling together for days.

Aura laid a finger against her cheek. “I thought it would be rude.”

Hiro lifted a hand toward Scáthach. “As I’m sure you know, she’s the former leader of the Faerzen Resistance. She’s working with us now, for reasons I won’t go into. I’d appreciate it if you could keep this discreet.”

The only other people who knew about their arrangement were Garda, Huginn, and Muninn.

Aura seemed to process that for a moment. “I see.”

“I’m not going to force you to be friends.”

As former foes, it was only natural for them to have complicated feelings about the situation. They would simply have to set those aside, Hiro thought—but as it turned out, there was no need to worry.

“No grudges,” Aura said, offering Scáthach her hand.

The woman’s eyebrows rose in surprise.

“I lost a lot of good men in the fighting. But I’m sure you did too.” Something like guilt flickered in Aura’s eyes. “And I know what Buze’s rule did to the capital. I’m sorry I couldn’t stop him.”

No doubt she felt particularly responsible for that. Her victories in the first Faerzen campaign had directly paved the way for the nation’s destruction.

“You are not to blame.” Scáthach laid a hand on her shoulder, smiling kindly. “I would be glad to have you by my side. Your strategies were magnificent. I would be glad to learn from you.”

Aura fell silent for a long moment. “Of course,” she said at last.

“Ah, now I remember. There is one thing I wanted to ask you.”

“What?”

“How did you keep such a watchful eye on the walls night after night?”

Hiro had heard about that. While under siege by the Faerzen Resistance, Aura’s troops had maintained a constant presence on the ramparts day and night, allowing for no enemy ingress.

“It wasn’t anything special.” Aura explained that she had propped up deceased soldiers’ armor on wooden poles—a ruse, in other words, but one that had nonetheless prevented Scáthach from attacking by night.

“I see.” Scáthach brought a hand to her mouth in astonishment. “I confess, I was thoroughly deceived.”

It was not surprising that she had failed to see through the trick. The Faerzen Resistance had been racing against time. Arrogance led to oversight, anger led to tunnel vision, and panic led to mistakes.

When people are put under pressure, they can get cautious or reckless. And Scáthach would have needed to conserve her resources for the battles to follow.

In other words, she had been too cautious, and paid for it. More surprising was that Aura had revealed the deception so readily. Now she would be unable to use it again if Scáthach were to turn against them.

Sensing his puzzlement, she turned to look at him, eyes shining. “Don’t worry. I’ll just come up with a better trick.”

He shrugged. “I’m sure you will.”

At that moment, a furious shout rattled the windowpane. “Down with House Krone! The villains have forgotten imperial honor!”

“Protect the Valditte! Protect the Warmaiden!” came another cry.

Those two were far from the last. A multitude of voices intermingled in the wintry air. The rumble of footsteps shook the carriage, and the atmosphere hung heavy with rage.