Chapter 15

Children of Luo beidra

In the year Banares was born as a prince of the Kingdom of Carbonihar and turned ten, his father was murdered. The assassin seized the throne and sought to kill the young prince as well, to cut off the seed of revenge.

Count Velido spoke of this, combining his own thoughts with what had been passed down.

"Would it have been any trouble for a usurper who beat his king to death to kill a mere ten-year-old prince? The prince's death was a foregone conclusion. However, it is said that a knight who was staying as a guest of the royal family saved him and fled to a neighboring country."

The knight was said to possess extraordinary strength, having faced six knights alone and shaken off pursuit for forty-eight days. After entrusting the prince to the queen of the neighboring country, he departed once more as a guest to yet another land.

"After that, the prince spent eight years there. And when he came of age, he dreamed of revenge, borrowing the queen's army… but the neighboring country fell, so he could not even begin his revenge."

Knowing Banares would seek vengeance, the usurper launched a surprise attack on that country and destroyed it. After resisting, Banares was captured and loaded onto a cart, then escorted to the usurper.

This was his second crisis.

And once again, a guest saved him.

The escorting army stopped at a certain city, where there was a hunter. The hunter, who had briefly come to sell goods, saw the prince imprisoned in the cart and rescued him in the night, fleeing with him.

The two crossed a forest inhabited by a mad witch and headed for another country. Naturally, pursuers followed them—so many that they seemed more numerous than the trees of the forest.

However, their numbers provoked the witch's wrath. While the prince safely reached another land, not a single pursuer survived to leave the forest.

The count added:

"In some plays, it is interpreted not that the witch became enraged, but that the hunter controlled the witch. No one knows for certain. All these stories were passed down by word of mouth from His Majesty himself."

One fact was certain: after saving the prince, the hunter also left.

"The third and fourth were the same. When His Majesty was falsely accused of plotting a coup and was on the verge of execution, and when he fell into a coma for years after being poisoned, there were guests who brought proof of his innocence and an antidote, respectively."

A knight, a hunter, a priest, and an alchemist—four guests. Each appeared under a different name and profession, saved Banares, and, once their task was complete, departed without taking any reward.

In the year he turned thirty-eight—twenty-eight years after his father's murder—Banares gathered his forces and finally achieved his revenge against the usurper. Afterward, he ruled Carbonihar until the age of ninety.

During his reign, the kingdom's territory multiplied several times. By marrying a princess of a neighboring country, the two nations became one, and he punished and subjugated the country that had framed him.

Although it was only centuries later that the nation's name would resound across the continent, historians say that Carbonihar's power was actually greater during Banares's reign.

When the story ended, Roberta asked:

"What happened to those guests?"

"Immediately after the great king reclaimed his throne, he sought them. To repay his debt, he sent proclamations throughout the entire land. However, it is said that none of them ever came forward."

"..."

"And strangely… the proclamations did not record their names or appearances. Like letters, they contained only his gratitude, blessings, and, finally, hope."

Based on this, the count judged that Banares likely knew the four guests would never seek him out again, and that he may have spread the proclamations simply to convey his feelings.

"Priest, you asked about the relationship between King Banares and Duke Dithmarschen. Suppose, for a moment—what if the four guests were actually one person? And what if that person were Ulrich, Duke of Dithmarschen?"

"Do you also believe those four were one and the same?"

"I do not know. To be honest, it does not feel real."

Roberta nodded, as if she expected that answer.

Banares was practically the founder of the Kingdom of Carbonihar. More than twenty years had passed since the throne had been usurped. It was enough time for one nation to fall and a new dynasty to rise. Thus, the moment he reclaimed the throne was also the moment the kingdom was founded anew.

That founder faced four crises in his lifetime, and each time a different person helped him. The story had been told among the people ever since.

There were many reasons for this: each guest's extraordinary abilities, their appearance at times of crisis followed by sudden disappearance, and the ending in which, despite wishing to meet them again for a lifetime, he never could—it was more than enough to make a story.

But what if they were all one person?

And what if that person were still alive?

"It is said that while the great king still lived, all sorts of liars appeared. Even on the day of his deathbed, some came seeking reward—despite not knowing names or appearances."

The count added that they met terrible ends.

"Only the royal family knows the details about the four guests. Today, only Duke Vailen—my lord—is someone who heard the story directly from the great king, and the reason I believe it is because my lord believes it."

Roberta thought.

If what Duke Vailen believed was true, then Ulrich, lord of Dithmarschen, would be a man who had lived more than twice the span recorded in history.

Before, he had casually hinted that he had lived for 1,400 years or more—but that had been nothing more than his own claim.

But now?

Duke Vailen had guaranteed that four names, including Laurent, were Ulrich's former names. There was no reason for Vailen to lie.

If so… had Ulrich lived for more than six hundred years?

Ulrich claimed himself to be a pure human. A truly pure human, with no trace of any non-human race mixed anywhere in his ancestry.

That alone sounded like an absurd claim, but even if one accepted it, it did nothing to resolve the question of his extraordinarily long lifespan.

'Ulrich, Laurent… and surely many other names as well.'

However, the question that occupied her mind now was not about his lifespan.

She had heard too many questions about that already, and had long since concluded that no answer could be found. Rather than clinging to something that could not be proven, she chose to pursue a new question.

What kind of lives had he lived under those different names?

He had said, "I changed my name each time I moved my residence." Then what names had he used each time, and what traces had he left behind under each identity?

That was what she was curious about. The names of his that had already been revealed—had they not each left enormous marks in history without anyone realizing?

Six hundred years ago, he had been Laurent de Villeneuve.

For the past three hundred years, he had been Ulrich of Dithmarschen.

He was the one who had allowed the two human kingdoms, Carbonihar and Osnover, to rise again. Could such a figure truly have spent the three hundred years in between in quiet obscurity?

Roberta was certain that could not be the case.

The next day, as Ulrich had said, the group descended the snowy mountain.

The slope was steep, but their spirits were high. After staying in the snow-covered mountains for several days, they were sick of the sight of it. Freezing blizzards, monsters gliding on those very winds, and the harsh terrain—there was nothing to like about it.

At the foot of the mountain, the plains were covered in snow, a vast stretch of white land. Unlike the mountains, however, the blizzard had subsided, and no monsters were visible. On the surface, it was so quiet that the nickname demonic realm seemed almost unfitting.

But they soon found themselves missing the mountains.

Once they began walking across the plains, they realized that the mountains had merely been throwing a tantrum. An environment comfortable for humans could hardly be uncomfortable for other creatures. Proof that Ulrich's bestiary of monsters was no fabrication began to appear one after another.

"Uh… huh?"

Crunch, crunch—while walking across the snowy path, someone let out a sound.

Recognizing the confusion in that voice, Roberta turned around—and saw the ground collapsing.

Where she stood, the ground merely trembled beneath her feet, but the two people at the rear of the group were not so fortunate.

The snow-covered ground caved in, forming a cone-shaped pit. At the same time, Count Velido and one of his retainers slid down into it.

And the moment the retainer stumbled and landed in the center of the pit, a pair of pincer-like jaws suddenly shot out, clamped onto his waist, and dragged him below.

"Damn it!"

Count Velido shouted.

There wasn't just one monster.

Another one appeared, its pincer jaws wide open, and bit into Velido. Unlike the retainer, he managed to twist his body quickly, avoiding a bite to the waist—but his left thigh was caught instead.

That was all the resistance he could manage. Losing his balance, Velido fell, with nothing to grab onto. As the monster pulled, he was helplessly dragged along.

"Velido!"

Duke Vailen took a step forward, as if ready to leap in.

But before him, Ulrich jumped into the pit.

He landed beside Velido and swung the sword in his right hand, severing the monster's head. Though its head was protected by a hard exoskeleton like that of a crustacean, the blade sliced through it as if cutting air.

Then he pried open the pincer jaws, freed Velido's thigh, and hurled him out of the pit.

"Get out of there quickly!"

Vailen bent his knees and urgently reached out his hand. Ulrich shook his head and turned his back on him, scanning the surroundings. The retainer who had first been caught was nowhere to be seen.

"Do not come in. Stay back at a distance."

The pit trembled.

Below, where white snow and black sand were mixed, several monsters—no one could tell how many—began to move. They must have realized Ulrich was no ordinary prey and had grown wary.

With a sharp whoosh, sand scattered into the air.

To prevent their prey from climbing the slope—or perhaps to obstruct its vision—the monsters violently sprayed sand mixed with snow. Then, five sets of pincer jaws lunged at Ulrich.

From his feet to his thighs, from his waist to his chest, they attacked all at once, giving him no time to react. Ulrich cut down the one that bit into his chest, but the remaining four dragged him toward the bottom of the pit.

"Lord!"

Roberta cried out, her voice nearly a scream.

Ulrich said nothing. Though he was pulled in up to his waist in mere seconds, he maintained his usual calm expression, gripping his sword in a reverse hold and driving it downward.

The sand churned, and his body shook along with it. The monsters must have been twisting their jaws in pain and rage. In response, he raised his arm higher and struck again.

"—! ——!"

A grotesque scream, enough to tear the eardrums, burst out from the pit. The tremors grew even more violent, and Ulrich was completely dragged beneath the surface.

Roberta, Vailen, Velido, and the retainers could do nothing but stare down blankly. They could only witness the blood rising red across the surface of the pit, hear the crushing of bones, and feel the vibrations beneath their feet.

"..."

How much time had passed?

The blood began to sink beneath the surface.

As if returning to its owner, the blood that had been mixed with snow and soil seeped away. The snow regained its white, the earth its black, and the pit was left with only traces that something had once disturbed it.

Then, the center of the pit rose—and Ulrich stood up.

In his right hand, he held a sword. In his left, he held the upper half of the retainer's body. His clothes, already light to begin with, were now torn to shreds like rags.

And yet—there were no wounds.

Everything suggested he had just fought a brutal battle, and yet, strangely, his skin remained pale and pristine, without a single injury.