Chapter 1: The Black Rose of Igris

Hetty, a first-year student at the Royal Knight Academy, stood watch outside the castle gates.

She, like the other students, took turns “volunteering” one of their days off to assist with guard duty, one of the beautiful, long-standing, and frustrating traditions of that great establishment of learning. It was a punishing practice that robbed students of their precious free time in exchange for free labor, but one that had its own benefits. Helping at the gates allowed a student the chance to see each and every person who came in and out of the royal castle.

There were more visitors than merchants and traders; there were plenty of high-ranking ministers, knights, court officials, and nobles to meet. “Speaking with royalty” was also included in the job description, though only rarely. For apprentice knights like Hetty, this was a golden opportunity to make the acquaintance of well-placed members of society, like members of the court. Students with dreams of climbing the ranks would find out when a particular noble or soldier was scheduled to visit, and would purposely volunteer for guard duty on that day.

The way they sold themselves under the guise of “apprentice work” could hardly be called a good thing, but for these young men and women with dreams of worldly success, doing so was a natural means to an end. And so, they dressed themselves in their finest clothes, did their best to look like diligent students, and held on to the fleeting hope that they might one day catch the attention of an aristocrat. And, it turned out, one person had in fact caught the eye of a royal while manning that chore of a post, and had gone on to become captain of the knights.

It is human nature to hold onto hope, even if the odds of their dreams coming true is less than one in a million or even a billion. And Hetty, despite this being her first day on the job, was no exception.

Her expression was tense, her posture ramrod-straight. She executed each and every salute with speed, each movement perfectly smooth.

...Or so she tried. Instead, her nerves turned every motion into a trembling, clumsy mess.

A young noble scoffed at her. An elderly diplomat gave her a crinkly-eyed smile. A rotund trader gave her some small words of encouragement. Through it all, Hetty continued to push herself to look as knightly as possible.

She looked through the gate to see Paul, her classmate and a fellow “volunteer helper.” He received guests and asked them required questions as they passed through, his expression slowly freezing into a blank stare. Each time he made an error in the process, a senior guard was close at hand to correct him. It seemed Hetty wasn’t the only one under strain.

However, after a repairman passed through the castle gates, the flow of guests seemed to suddenly dry up. Apparently people would come and go in waves throughout the day. With far fewer eyes on her, Hetty felt her tension wane, and she fought to stifle a yawn that threatened to escape her lips.

Seeing this, the older guard smiled and called out to her in appreciation.

“Just a little longer, miss. Then you can swap shifts with the lot back at the guardhouse. Chin up ’til...then...” The words trickled out as his face suddenly froze, and his gaze became fixed on the road leading up to the castle gates.

The knight stood at attention with blinding speed, his spine and spear perfectly straight. His face tightened into a tense expression, every part of him silently screaming “Don’t screw this up!” Hetty could even hear the man gulp for air.

She and Paul both stared blankly at him for a moment, until they turned to follow his gaze and realized why his demeanor had changed so suddenly.

Someone was approaching. A man clad in leather armor, with a cape around his shoulders and a sword at his side.

He stood nearly seven feet tall, and was so large that he might be mistaken for an oversized statue instead of a man.

His face was like a bad omen, his expression so stern that he appeared to be glaring. His mouth was drawn tight, as if barely suppressing rage. The figure he cut was more like a beast than a man; a lion, perhaps, or some other flesh-eating animal.

To top it all off, not only was his face covered in what looked like battle scars, some sort of tattoo was neatly incised into his left cheek. Not even the most generous interpretation would mistake him for an upright citizen.

Hetty’s feeling of dread grew so powerful that she nearly drew the sword at her hip out of reflex.

“Thank you for your service, Lord Beldarus!” the guard shouted in a too-shrill voice.

Lord Beldarus?! Hetty and Paul turned to one another when they heard the name.

That’s him! Baron Gaius Beldarus! Captain of the Knights of the Chain. The famous knight who had made a name for himself fifteen years ago, during the Five-Year War between Igris and a number of formerly friendly nations along its border.

Even Hetty and Paul, who had only just started attending the Knight Academy, had heard his name. “Slayer of Fifty,” “Gaius the Maneater,” “Beldarus the Bloody-Bladed,” “The Headhunter,” “Ally-Killer.” The man had many names, countless stories, and a fearsome reputation dogging his every move.

But his most famous alias stemmed from the cursed mark on his left cheek: “The Black Rose of Igris.” One rumor has it that the mark had been placed on him by magicians from the eastern nations in an attempt to suppress the man’s bloodlust. Another said it was a curse, a mark that spontaneously appeared as a result of the curses amassed by all the souls he’d slain.

He was no berserker; he was not a mindless killer driven by a vengeful spirit. No, he was a crystal-sharp distillation of human ferocity, cruelty, and madness. Everyone knew that about Baron Gaius Beldarus.

I-I-I can’t afford to offend him! Hetty did her best to prevent her teeth from chattering, but she couldn’t keep herself from trembling.

She looked across the gate, and saw that Paul was also shaking, his face pale. He was the one who had told her that Beldarus would cut down any young knight who displeased him.

It was unclear whether Gaius was aware of just how terrified they were of him as he approached the gate, but as he walked towards them, he turned towards the senior guard and shook his head.

“Fine work as always. But you don’t have to call me ‘Lord.’ As of yesterday, I’m neither a noble nor a knight.” His voice was low, slow, and heavy with dignity.

But to Hetty and Paul, who stood gripped in terror, that voice scoured their very souls like a ghastly echo emanating from a grave.

“Yes, Sir! I crave your pardon!”

“I do need entry, if you please. I have business with the seneschal; I need to turn in the keys to my knights’ lodging.”

“Understood! If you could please fill out these forms... Bring that clipboard over here already! Hop to it!”

“Y-Yessir! Right away, Sir!” The lead guard barked an order to Paul, then whipped around to speak to Hetty.

“Hetty! See to Lord Beldarus’s belongings!”

“Er, I... That is, I’m no longer a noble...”

Oh, no! Don’t say my name out loud! she moaned inwardly. There’s no-one who can help me if this guy remembers who I am! Hetty willed herself forward on shaking legs. Lord Beldarus removed the sword hanging at his side and bent over to hand it down to her.

“You may find it a tad heavy. Do be careful with it.”

“Y-Yessir!” Hetty stammered a reply and reached out with both hands to take the blade being offered to her. The scabbard pressed down into her hands under the considerable weight of the sword.

Whether it was because of her frayed nerves, or because the sword was much heavier than she’d expected...

...Hetty did an impressive job in almost immediately fumbling the sword to the ground.

I’m sorry, Mom... Today’s the day your daughter dies. This remarkably cogent thought flashed through her mind as the sword hit the cobblestones with a great crash!

The blood drained from her face as she stared fixedly at her own feet. She could see the ornamental detailing on the sword, now cracked and shattered. There was no mistaking that the sudden impact from the fall was to blame for the damage.

You’ve really done it now. Way to go, Hetty. Not only did you drop a warrior’s sword, the symbol of his skill and pride—and a really expensive sword, too—but you broke it. You smashed it right up.

And not just any warrior’s sword, no! The sword of Gaius the Cannibal, the Ally-Killer.

Hetty released the breath she’d been holding and closed her eyes.

“Well, well, well... Did the blade get broken? Let’s test it out on your neck and see.” And with those words—fwoosh—her head came clean off. ...Or so Hetty saw in her mind’s eye.

That’s just the kind of thing Beldarus the Bloody-Bladed would do... As Hetty lamented the untimely end of her all-too-short life, with tears welling up in her eyes, she opened them to find Lord Beldarus stooped over, picking up the shards one by one.

“M-M-My deepest apologies for this dreadful offense, Lord Beldarus!” The guard dropped to his knees and pressed his head against the cobblestones in fervent apology.

Gaius waved a hand in front of his face dismissively. “It was my fault. The sword is far too heavy. Are you hurt?” This last question was directed at Hetty, in a gentle voice.

“Ah-Ah-I-I-I’m fine, Sir...! I-I’m terribly sorreeeeeeee...” Hetty was shaking so fiercely that she barely managed to get the words out.

“Is that so? Good.” Lord Beldaus casually collected the last of the fragments and tossed them into a nearby wastebasket.

“The sword was nothing but a decoration, to be worn only when attending the castle. I’m not going to be needing it any longer. Don’t let it bother you.”

“B-But—” Gaius held up a hand to cut the guard’s protests short and stood up.

He took the clipboard from Paul, whose brain seemed to have ceased functioning entirely. He patiently filled in his signature and his reason for coming to the castle and handed it back.

“You look like a student at the Knight Academy.” It took Hetty a moment to realize that this had been directed at her, but eventually she replied with “Yessir.”

“How old are you?”

“S-Seventeen, Sir!”

“Hmm...” Lord Beldarus removed a pouch from his belt and rummaged through it. He eventually produced something wrapped in paper and casually held it in front of Hetty’s face.

“I, uh...”

Seeing she was at a loss for words, Gaius simply said “For you,” and gestured for her to hold out her hand.

Hetty timidly reached out to accept it, after which Gaius gave another package to Paul.

“If you’ll excuse me.” With that, he turned toward the castle’s interior and walked away.

＊

“The man’s fit only to swing a sword about!” Back at the guardhouse, as Hetty and Paul were on break, a student two years their senior was going on and on, smirking and laughing.

The second son of a viscount, he took every possible opportunity to look down his nose at the common folk. Because of this, Hetty and the others inwardly ignored him as best they could. The fact that he didn’t even realize the others were scorning him was truly unbecoming of a young noble.

“Oh? But Lord Beldarus was so frightening, and he looked so powerful.”

“He’s not Lord Beldarus anymore, or even the captain of the Knights of the Chain. He’s just another plebeian now.”

Hetty replied with another half-hearted “Oh?” and took a sip of her sugar-laden tea. The potent sweetness worked to soothe her fear-induced aches and pains.

“And that nickname of his, the ‘Slayer of Fifty’ or whatever? It has to be a sham.”

“Is that so?” Paul chimed in this time.

“Of course! It’s all just a load of leftover rumor from the war, together with his own braggart’s lies. I mean, the stories are simply unbelievable. One man cutting down fifty men? One man, making an entire enemy force run for cover?”

“Well, I suppose,” Hetty replied. Honestly, having seen him in person, I can believe it, she thought to herself.

“And for whatever reason, the last king, and the king before him, both bought into this farce. But now we have a proper king and prime minister who know how to deal with charlatans like him. Just because the man knows his way around a sword doesn’t mean he should be given rank and prestige that he doesn’t deserve. Now that he’s been exposed, he’s dropped all his titles and practically fled the capital...and good riddance, too!”

Hetty recalled Lord Beldarus’s words as she brought the teacup back to her lips. So that’s why he said he wasn’t nobility anymore...

“What a nut the previous king was. Giving the Beldarus name and a title to an illegitimate son. House Bargylus even ousted him because he was such a dimwit. Did you know that? Huh? The Academy teachers called a meeting and asked him all sorts of questions about tactics, and he couldn’t give even a halfway decent answer! And somehow this idiot was made captain of the guard?! What a laugh!” Paul glanced at the senior student out of the corner of his eye and nodded noncommittally.

“So, then, does that mean Lord...I mean, Mister Beldarus’s nickname ‘The Ally-Killer’ is another exaggerated rumor?” The young man stopped laughing when Hetty asked.

“No, that bit’s true.”

“Huh?”

“A young aristocrat told him off for the way he ran pell-mell across the battlefield, and the sword-for-brains cut him down right there and then where one and all could see it. They say some old sorcerer filled his head with all sorts of funny superstitions, too. Went and kidnapped a maiden and ate her right up, flesh and blood and all. That savage was hardly knight material at all, let alone an aristocrat.”

Hetty’s cheek twitched.

“You sure were lucky, wouldn’t you say? One wrong move and you might have been his next victim.” The smirk returned to the upperclassman’s face, and a chill ran down her spine.

So he really is that terrifying—an ally-slayer and a cannibal. It was just dumb luck that he let me live. A shiver raced along her back, and she crossed her arms. When she did, her hand pressed against something in her chest pocket.

That’s right... Lord Beldarus had handed her something small, wrapped in paper. From what she’d just heard, it couldn’t have been anything good. But it couldn’t have been poison...could it?

Hetty set the bag down in her lap and carefully unwrapped the paper, her hands trembling. There, in the bottom of the bag...

Meow.

...candies in the shape of cats’ faces peered up at her.

＊

The forest was called “The Greatwood.”

It lay north of the Southern Kingdoms, and shared a border with Igris, the kingdom next to it, the kingdom next to that, and so on for a great distance. The vast forest stretched on and on, which is how the name came to be.

...No, that’s not quite right. The truth is the other way around.

The Southern Kingdoms have their name because they sit to the south of the Greatwood, as if the continent’s main purpose was to have a place for the Greatwood to exist. This made the humans living on this land nothing more than land-monkeys with nothing to offer the Greatwood, living on the comparatively barren earth. The vast woods made up roughly half the surface of the continent.

The thick growth of enchanted trees was home to terribly powerful magical beasts, preventing the people in the south from crossing over to the kingdoms to the north. In fact, it didn’t simply hinder human travel; at times, the forest grew and encroached into human territory, eating away at the habitable land.

The people did their best to fight back against the fickle woods when it spread, and lived as well as they could in the land left over. They raised children, built communities—and went to war with one another.

Such was the relationship between the Greatwood and humanity. Frontier settlements existed along its edges, humankind’s first line of defense against the trees. They cut their way through the forest. Sometimes, it was all they could do to fell the trees that crossed into human territory. These were dangerous areas, where encountering a magical beast was not uncommon. On the other hand, feudal lords granted settlers the right to own any land they cleared or successfully defended. The privilege extended to all: commoners, refugees, and immigrants alike. Even despite these methods, the lords were still constantly at war with the Greatwood.

Oddly enough, every nation and territory eventually adopted the same tradition. Characters with shady pasts naturally gathered in the settlements along the forest: peddlers of get-rich-quick schemes, debtors, fugitives, ex-convicts, criminals, former mercenaries, and failed would-be adventurers.

Northplain was a territory within the kingdom of Igris, one of the regions bordering on the Greatwood. It was one such settlement, far off in one of the northern corners of human territory at the very edge of the Greatwood.

“Was.” After being swallowed up by the Greatwood, the settlement no longer existed.

After Gaius Beldarus resigned from his post and renounced his title, he departed the capital and returned to his hometown to visit his mother’s grave.

＊

“It’s as grim as I expected,” Gaius sighed to himself, seeing the ruins of his former home before his eyes.

The fields that the villagers had worked so hard to carve out were now completely enveloped by the Greatwood. The forest, which should have been a distant sight from across those fields, had expanded its territory into the plaza, the former heart of the village. If Gaius wanted to reach the home he had once shared with his mother, he would need to descend from his cart and weave his way through the trees on foot for some time.

While several houses survived the invasion, it had been a rough 30 years and the buildings were all in the process of crumbling into the ground. It may go without saying, but there wasn’t a single habitable structure left in the village.

From what he’d heard along his journey, no new frontier settlements had been created in the surrounding area. Nor could he find any trace that a person had been here recently. It was clear that the land’s rulers, House Zigan, had given up entirely on preserving the existing settlements, let alone securing the borderlands. Rumor had it that family strife had caused their grip on the area to loosen in recent years.

With another sigh, Gaius descended from his wagon and slowly began walking.

＊

Gaius could feel his love for antiques slipping a notch as he looked about the ruins of his hometown. He collected the ashes and belongings of his mother and her neighbors, thinking it fortunate that he’d built a burial mound to mark a grave for his mother. He needed to consider what his next move would be, however.

Gaius still had a decent amount of money saved from his days as captain of the guard; a nearby settlement might allow him to join them. Perhaps he would make a new home in the nearest town. He could take up work as a carpenter or laborer, and eventually build himself a modest house.

But where on earth would I build...? An open, flat parcel of land would be best, one not too far yet not too close to a source of water. Gaius thought deeply and rubbed his chin.

Ah yes, there’s a river just outside the village. Remembering this, Gaius decided to go and see what state it was in.

It had entirely dried up. Gaius didn’t know what had happened in the thirty-some years since he’d swam and played in the river, but now all that was left was a stretch of sandy soil in the shape of a riverbed.

He looked “upstream,” but there was no sign of what had caused this. All he could see was the riverbed stretching into the forest like a road.

The Greatwood was devouring the village, so why had the riverbed been left untouched by the greedy trees? And just how long ago had the water dried up? Had the river changed direction, or had its source also run dry? All sorts of questions came to mind.

Come to think of it, I never did go upstream back in the day. The reason for this was obvious; no settler would ever let a child go into the Greatwood.

...I suppose there’s nothing to be done about the river, but what should I do now? Digging a well would be laborious and costly, but he couldn’t survive relying solely on rainfall, either. Settling down here seemed more and more complicated by the minute. Logically speaking, the further one lived from a town, the more difficult it would be to secure food.

Gaius scratched his chin with thick fingers, faced once again with his own thoughtlessness. His top priority had been to get as far away from the capital as he could, so his homecoming was quite unplanned. In fact, he’d been warned against leaping before he looked many, many times—by the former king, the princess, his upperclassmen and subordinates. But, as the saying goes, old habits die hard.

“You completely lack foresight, so you’d do well to heed the advice of those under your command,” the king had once advised him.

“Do you have more muscles where your brains should be, dear?” The princess, who had at one point been his wife, used to tease him.

A knight who had once stayed in Gaius’s home had always chided him with “Sir Gaius, you are a reckless one, without a doubt.”

Despite all this, Gaius had enjoyed his days as the princess’s guard, and his time as just another knight. He hadn’t wanted it all to end. But ever since he’d been given a station he was unqualified for—and especially since the current king had taken the throne—Gaius had been drawn into political bickering and personal bodyguard duties. His head and stomach had ached more and more each day.

In his own way, he really had taken care not to do or say anything out of line. But the freeloading knight living with him gave him advice to do just the opposite: “Sir Gaius, you ought to be more selfish! Live life as you want to live it!” At that, he truly felt he never should have taken on a title.

As Gaius heaved a sigh and sat back down in his wagon—

“Eeeeyaaahhh!” he heard a shrill voice cry out.

A woman’s scream...? No, a child’s?! Gaius stood up in a flash, his hands already seeking out a weapon from inside the wagon, a thick, cleaver-like sword known as a faussar. He scanned his surroundings to try and find from where the voice had come. It had been close, but it was difficult to discern the source of the scream.

He took a deep, sharp breath and shouted, “Where are you?!” in a booming voice. Straining his ears, he made out the sound of startled birds taking flight before the same voice called out once again. “Uwaaah!”

It had come from his left, deeper in the woods. Gaius took off as soon as he determined the direction of the sound, his massive frame hurtling forward with ferocious speed.

Who, or what, could be over there? What kind of situation was he charging into? He moved without thinking, as though forgetting the way he had cursed his own lack of forethought just a moment ago. Gaius heard screams, and so he ran. That was all the reason he needed.

If his former subordinates could see him now, their response would no doubt be a snide “He’s hopeless, that man.” Snide, but with a hint of pride.

That’s the sort of man Gaius Beldarus was.

＊

He plunged into the forest, racing toward the voice he’d heard. As he ran, weaving through the foliage like a rolling boulder, something came into view:

The back of a beast. A beast standing upright, at least eight feet tall.

The gigantic creature reared back on two hind legs, spreading four forelegs wide. Gaius had seen its like before. It was a bugbear, one of the many magical beasts that roamed the woods. Just as the name implied, it had six legs like an insect and hatched from an egg.

Even an ordinary bear was far too much of a threat for a lone human. One blow from those arms with their knifelike claws would instantly turn a man into mincemeat. Its thick fur and flesh provided a natural armor.

But bears, wary creatures by nature, didn’t generally go after humans. When people and bears crossed paths, it was typically an unfortunate coincidence, or when a bear had developed a taste for human flesh.

Bugbears, however, were different. They did hunt humans. Perhaps they had lost that sense of caution, but just as bears would reach into a beehive for honey, bugbears would attack human habitats. Ones just like the frontier village where Gaius had grown up.

“Oi!” Gaius bellowed. He traded away the element of surprise in an attempt to draw the bugbear’s attention away from the child.

He quickly took in his surroundings, but he couldn’t see a child anywhere. Maybe they were hiding behind a tree...or maybe he was too late, and they already lay dead or dying somewhere. The search would have to wait until he dealt with the threat before him. He raised his sword over his head with both hands in an advanced sword-wielding posture called the “roof stance.”

“Grrr...” The beast turned slowly toward him in response to his voice. The beast’s center of gravity was unstable while it stood on just its two hind legs, and it was unable to change its direction easily. For a moment, it lowered itself onto all six legs to turn towards Gaius, growling menacingly.

It began its fierce charge.

＊

The monster trembled in delight at discovering the source of the noise. To think that it would meet a “land-monkey” here, of all places... And here it had just been thinking that the prey it had cornered would be too small for a meal. Land-monkeys. They were a rare sight in the forest, so sometimes it would go looking for them. They were slow. Weak. Easy meals.

Sometimes they would have shells, but that only made them a little less easy to eat. And the meat inside would still be just as soft.

The bugbear had eaten a land-monkey like that two autumns ago. The land-monkey had hit it on the head with a stick, but that was all. The stick had barely hurt, and all the bugbear had had to do was run into it to send the land-monkey flying. After that, all it had done was pet the land-monkey with its front paws until it stopped moving.

This new land-monkey wanted to hit it, too.

Stupid land-monkeys. That stupid stick won’t even—

＊

—before it could even finish its thought, its skull was dashed to pieces.

When the bugbear charged, Gaius rushed forward as well, even faster than the monster. The bugbear ran low to the ground, and Gaius’s height advantage added to the force of his blow.

With his towering height and the great strength behind that heavy blade, Gaius’s downward swing was as devastating as the namesake of his roof stance: “like a roof falling on your head.” The violent blow smashed the creature’s skull, crushing its brains and cutting short whatever thoughts it might have had.

The rest of the bugbear’s body pitched forward and collapsed. As Gaius slashed, he’d swiftly dodged to the side at the same time to avoid the massive beast’s charge.

Its body crashed into a tree with a great thud! Gaius quickly approached it and brought his sword down on its head three more times. By then, its head was severed from its neck and its skull smashed to a pulp, bits of brain scattered all around.

Larger monsters, especially magical ones, were able to survive far more damage than humans. Best to make sure you’ve finished the job. Gaius had learned that from his mother, who had lived and died as one of the settlement’s warriors.

Gaius shook the blood and gore from his faussar and glanced around. Once he’d made sure no other threats remained, he let out a breath.

I was right to bring this blade. The faussar had a blade that curved backward, reminiscent of a sickle. It was only double-edged near the tip, where a series of notches resembling a steep mountain range had been made. The design was meant to allow the wielder to let the sword’s weight to do all the work, or to slash in a way that sunk those thorns into its target. It was also good at cutting down horses by aiming for their legs.

Gaius had a heavier, thicker version of that style of sword, made to suit his massive frame. Without such a weapon, he wouldn’t have been able to pull off that earlier move. Though it looked unwieldy, it allowed him to make good use of his strength. It also fit his personality quite well; wielding it required some recklessness, and it was tough to break.

“It’s all right now.” Gaius called out to the unseen other person, looking all around himself as he spoke. He looked in every direction, but there was no reply, nor any sign of a child.

It made him sick to think they could already be lying somewhere, lifeless.

This was bad. They might not be able to respond. Gaius searched the trees nearby to see if anyone had collapsed behind one. “Not here... Not here, either...” he muttered under his breath. Just then, he heard a growl. His body reacted before he even decided to move, and instantly he was pointing his blade at a potential target. That target was...

...a dog? Yes. A white dog stood before him. Or perhaps it was a wolf, but judging from its size, a dog seemed more likely. In any case, it was doglike. The creature leaned against a tree trunk, baring its fangs at Gaius.

...Dogs had always hated him. Back in the capital, they had barked and growled at him whenever he passed by. In fact, he’d never had a dog take a liking to him after he reached adulthood, not even once.

No matter how much he wanted to pet them, to feel their fur, for some reason they all seemed to run or panic when he got near. Once, one had even lost control of its bladder and fainted. Gaius had fallen into a deep depression for days after that incident. So he accepted this dog’s reaction as an unavoidable event.

What really bothered him was the wound on its leg, and the fact that it was wearing animal-skin clothing. Surely wild dogs and wolves didn’t wear clothes, which meant this one had to belong to someone, and so its owner couldn’t be far.

If the dog’s owner couldn’t reply to him, they must have been in serious trouble. He needed to find them, and soon. Taking a chance on the hope that this dog might be able to lead him there, Gaius steeled himself, mustered the sweetest voice he could, and gently called out to it.

“I-I-It’s all right. Wh-Where’s your owner? Are they close?” A dog couldn’t possibly understand the words of someone besides its owner, but at the very least it might flee in the direction of the missing person. Gaius knelt down and tilted his head while smiling awkwardly. The dog continued to snarl at him.

“It doesn’t matter how I ask it. It’s still just a dog,” Gaius mumbled, his head and shoulders slumping in disappointment. Could he find the owner in time? He had to hurry.

When he lifted his head back up, Gaius heard an unexpected voice answer him.

“I’m no dog!” Dumbfounded, Gaius’s jaw dropped.

The white dog continued, “I’m a kobold warrior, and I have a name! It’s Fog! Don’t treat me like some mutt!” The dog...could speak?! Gaius spun around, but there was no one else there. So this must have been the source of the scream he had heard.

“Ya hear me, troll?!” Trolls were a powerful humanoid race that could grow up to three meters tall. They were a simple folk who lived in the mountains and at the outskirts of the Greatwood, farming and foresting. They were a rare sight in the southern kingdoms, as most of them lived to the east and west. While they had little contact with Igris and its neighbors, they did interact with humans, so their existence was a well-known fact.

Ogres were muscular and violent. Elves were long-lived. Orcs were gallant, while halflings were small and charming. Dwarves were known for being heroic and lusty. And trolls were huge and immensely strong.

This wasn’t the first time he had been called a troll—and sometimes it wasn’t an accident.

Even so, to be scolded by a dog—well, no, it just said itself that it wasn’t a dog.

Its mouth and tongue were clearly not human, nor did they look well-suited to speaking. They were definitely beastlike. It was amazing to think it was even capable of human language. And yet, it actually spoke even more properly than a lot of humans. That much Gaius could tell when he heard it.

“Oh, I...I apologize. I was out of line.” Gaius fumbled through an apology as he regained his senses.

After an awkward silence, he heard that voice again.

“Ah, I was kinda harsh. I was all worked up... I’m sorry, too. Ya just saved me, and here I am insulting you.”

“I heard a scream.” It had to have come from this kobold. He might have mistaken Fog’s voice for a child’s because of her small size, or because the perilous situation caused her to cry out in her real voice. But whatever the reason, Gaius thought, that didn’t matter now. He was simply grateful her voice had carried so far. He might never have heard her otherwise.

“Really though, you saved my life. A second more and that thing would’ve had me for a snack.” This time, she bowed her head low. Flustered, Gaius waved his arms, urging her to lift her head.

“Let’s try this again. I’m White Fog, a kobold warrior. And you are?”

“My name is Gaius. I come from that nearby village.” Gaius pointed over his shoulder with his thumb.

“Village? You mean those ruins?”

“I was born there. It was still a village when I was a child.”

“What on earth happened?”

“Magic beasts. Long ago, it was attacked by a pack of bugbears, like, the beast that attacked you. I’ve lived elsewhere since then.”

“Hmm...so you lost your village, too...”

“You could say that.”

“...You’re just like us.” Gaius tilted his head and opened his mouth to ask what she meant, but a sudden groan from Fog cut him off.

“Does it hurt?”

“It’s nothing major.” Fog put up a brave front, but the wound she was pressing down on looked fairly deep. Fog tried to stand, as if to demonstrate that she was all right, but her face twisted in pain and she had to sit back down.

“Just a scratch. I only need a little break and I’ll be good to go.”

“Your face says otherwise.” Gaius placed his hands around her chest and picked her up, gently wrapping his right arm around her while holding his sword in his left hand.

“Hey, hey, hey! What are you doing?!”

“You can’t walk on that leg. Don’t force it. I’ll take you home.”

“No, I mean watch where you’re touching, you perv!”

“Oh! S-Sorry...” Gaius hurriedly tried to figure out a more proper way to carry her, but he was at a loss.

Seeing his distress, Fog sighed deeply. “It’s fine, don’t worry.” She cleared her throat. “If we stick around too long, we’ll get eaten by some other monster. I won’t give you a hard time. You seem like an alright guy.”

“I appreciate the kind words,” Gaius laughed. It was rare for anyone—human or animal—not to treat him like a scoundrel from the moment they saw him, so he was quite pleased.

“I can tell from your smell. Sort of, anyway.”

“My smell?” She seemed even more doglike now, not that Gaius would have said that aloud.

“Yeah, your spirit’s smell.” The corners of her mouth pulled back in what looked like a smile.

“Anyhow, I don’t feel like dying here. I’ve got little ones waiting for me.”

＊

As Gaius tended to Fog’s injury in the wagon, her eyes widened and she blurted out, “That pile of dirt’s moving! You have some real strange stuff.” She stared at the earth-colored object tied to the wagon. It had two black hollows for eyes, and its features were simple and expressionless. It was a golem horse, made of mud.

“That’s right. That’s my dear steed, Claudette.” When it heard its name being said, the golem neighed softly in response. “She doesn’t need to eat or drink, and if she gets injured I can patch her up with soil. After a bit she’s as good as new. She really is a wonder.”

“Sounds like there’s lots of handy stuff outside the forest.”

“There is indeed.”

“Me, I’m awful at taking care of living things.”

“Hmm...” This was suddenly familiar. Back when he had been a knight, Gaius had struggled to keep from startling any horse he was given. The princess, unable to simply stand by and watch this continue, asked the king to request a golem horse from the eastern kingdoms. The golem had became his steadfast companion on both official and private business, diligently supporting him while enduring his clumsy, rough handling. The princess had also seen to its name when she gifted it to him.

“All done.” He’d washed the injury and applied a salve to stanch the bleeding, then wrapped a bandage around her leg. He retrieved a bottle of pain medicine and took out what seemed like a proper dose for someone of Fog’s size, then handed it to her.

“I can give you more proper treatment once we’ve returned, if you’d like.”

“Ugh, this stuff is bitter...and, thanks.”

“Now then, which direction should I take?”

“You saw that dried-up river, right? Follow that and it’ll take you just outside the village.” Gaius recalled the riverbed he’d seen a moment ago.

“Will the wagon be alright? The wheels could get stuck if we drive through mud.”

“It’s all sand. You shouldn’t have any problems.”

“Is that so? Then we should manage.” Gaius flicked the reins and directed his beloved steed to go back the way they’d come.

As it turned out, there was no danger of getting mired in a bog or stuck in the sand. Claudette’s footing was solid, and she pulled the wagon along with considerable strength. The wheels rolled smoothly, and the three proceeded into the forest.

If one could put up with the bumpy ride, then traveling by a golem-drawn cart was vastly superior to a real horse, as they needed no food, or drink, or rest. According to Fog, they were still a good distance away from the village, so Gaius picked up the pace. Fortunately for them, the riverbed was good and flat.

“I’d read once that kobolds were a small, humanoid race related to goblins. I never imagined you’d look so...”

“‘So’?”

Gaius had been about to say “doglike,” but caught himself. “...Fluffy,” he finished instead.

“Yeah? Well, we used to have contact with goblins, back in the day. But I dunno, that description sounds really off... Maybe the elder knows something about that.” The book Gaius referred to was an illustrated monster encyclopedia he’d read in the castle library.

To lump goblins and kobolds together as monsters, when he was able to talk and sympathize with one... Gaius felt embarrassed at the arrogance of humanity, himself included. But it was also natural. In the southern kingdoms, there were few races with intelligence, in other words, “people,” aside from humans. Even elves, said to be the most populous race on the continent, were a rare sight there. As a result, humans lived in ignorance about other races, and could be exclusionary, even outright discriminatory, to others, especially those that looked less human. Few humans in the south would consider them people. And so, kobolds came to be recorded as a variety of monster.

Gaius, on the other hand, was decidedly different from most southerners, most likely because of his upbringing. Naturally, it had made him more open-minded.

Gaius suddenly noticed the silence, and turned around to see that Fog had fallen asleep. Drowsiness was one of the side effects of the pain medicine he’d given her, and the effect may have been stronger in kobolds, who likely weren’t used to such medicine.

Fog had said that if he followed the river, he would see the village. That meant there would be no harm in letting her sleep until they arrived. Gaius drove on through the woods, keeping an eye out for any more dangers.

He was concerned about whether Fog’s children would fear him. Whether they did or not, he was sure they would be adorable, and busied himself with imagining their hypothetical cuteness.

＊

They drove on and on for quite some time. The trees to either side began to gradually thin out, and there, in the middle of the forest, he saw a sprawling grassland. Trees still grew here and there, but even so, it was hard to imagine that such a wide open space could be hidden in the heart of the Greatwood. The riverbed continued along the edge of the field for a stretch, before ending at the foot of a small hill. The woods beyond weren’t unremarkable by any means, but something in the center of the plain caught Gaius’s attention.

A village was there. He could see a few dozen small homes built from twigs and grass. Columns of smoke billowed up here and there, visible even in the distance, and the hamlet lay between two small, craggy mountains that towered over it, as though they were symbols of the village.

“That must be it,” Gaius said to himself, and reached into the back to shake Fog awake.

“Nn... Can’t believe I fell asleep... Yep, that’s it. That there’s the village.”

“What a darling village!” The homes were smaller and simpler than human houses, but even so, the sight calmed him.

The villagers must be as small and precious as their homes. And unlike animals or human children... If, like Fog, the kobold children weren’t afraid of him...

...Then, perhaps they might allow me to pet them. The thought brought a smile to his face. To someone who didn’t know him, his expression was like that of a ferocious beast, baring its fangs before its prey.

Behind him, Fog muttered darkly. “Well, we had to rebuild everything in a hurry. It’s the best we could do.”

＊

The cart soon reached a row of houses, and—

“Stop right there!” a voice shouted. Suddenly, kobolds wielding stone spears and axes closed around the wagon from all sides. Every one of them was growling, their noses wrinkled in snarls.

Gaius slowly lifted his hands from the reins and gave them a smile, trying to show that he didn’t mean any harm. His smile was partially a show of friendship, and partially because his heart was dancing at the sight of so many fluffy kobolds gathered in one place. Of course, a smile from Gaius never really looked that friendly in the best of circumstances.

“Why have you come here?!”

“My name is Gaius. I’ve only come to bring one of your injured villagers home. I bear you no ill will.” As Gaius said this, Fog popped her face up beside him from the back of the wagon. She barked at the armed villagers.

“Cut it out, he’s telling the truth! This troll saved me from a bear!” The kobolds turned to one another and began to argue among themselves. Eventually, they lowered their weapons.

“Is that right?”

“I guess it must be, if Fog says so.”

“Yeah, and if we argue with her, she’ll hit us.”

“I’ve never seen a troll before.”

“Me either, me either.”

“Hey, what’s this mud monster?” As they turned to each other and began talking noisily, the tension in the air dissipated. Gaius watched the cute sight, his eyes crinkling with delight.

Ah, what a wonderful scene. Just this makes leaving the capital worth it. I hope they’ll allow me to stay for a little while, so I can remember this sight forever... Although I suppose that would be selfish of me. ...Ah, but if I settled down in the ruins of my village, it would be a simple enough matter to stop by every once in a while. If he did that, he could lay his mother and the villagers to rest while also being able to visit the kobolds. It wouldn’t be the most convenient life, but there were a lot of merits to living there. He’d need to dip into his savings, but perhaps he’d try digging a well after all. Maybe he could try to build a home there. Surely that was the best thing for him to do, right?! That must be it!

Gaius was lost in thought as Fog descended from the wagon. “Make way, make way! I’ve gotta give a warm welcome to the guy that saved my life. Over here, Gaius. It’s getting dark already, so come stay over at my place.” She began leading the way, dragging her left leg. Gaius gave the golem the command to stop and tried to follow her, when—

“What do you think you’re doing, Fog?! You’ve led a human right to us!” Gaius immediately stopped when he heard those harsh, spiteful words.

“Elder,” Fog said, turning around. When Gaius turned in the same direction, he saw a kobold leaning on a walking stick.

As a human, Gaius did not know what an old kobold looked like, but from the faded fur, cloudy eyes, and his slightly shaky gait, it was clear that he was looking at one.

“Fog, why have you brought one of them here?”

“Why? Didn’t I just say? I got attacked by a six-legged bear and he saved my life. I was this close to getting eaten alive.”

“Even so, to bring a human right to our village...!”

“Huh?” Fog turned to look at Gaius. She then turned back to the village elder and said, “What are you talking about, you damn stupid stank-breathed old fool?! Humans don’t get that big, now do they? I’m telling you, he’s a troll. A tro-oll. And besides, look. Even his hair is grey. Don’t trolls have grey hair?”

“So do humans! Trolls have dark grey skin! And male trolls don’t even grow hair, only the women do. You haven’t even seen a troll before, have you?” There was silence.

“...Is that true?” Slowly, nervously, Fog looked over at Gaius.

“So I hear.”

“...You’re not a troll?”

“In a sense. My mother was half troll.”

“And what was the other half?”

“Human, I suppose.” The atmosphere changed in an instant. A clamor broke out among the kobolds, and they hurriedly picked their weapons back up. Seeing this, Fog heaved a deep sigh and pressed a hand to her forehead.

“Why didn’t you say something sooner...?”

“Er, well. I’ve been mistaken for one before. And as I said, I am a quarter troll. It can’t be that big an issue.”

“It’s a huge problem, you idiot!” She gave another heavy sigh.

“Do you see what you’ve done, Fog?! I told you he was human!”

“Okay, I was wrong, Elder.”

“...And on top of that, you insulted me something fierce just now, didn’t you?” Fog didn’t reply other than to wave a hand dismissively. Dragging her injured leg, she left them and headed for the cluster of houses.

The village elder watched her leave before turning back to Gaius.

“Tie him up!” He ordered the villagers surrounding Gaius. All at once, the kobolds rushed forward and piled onto him.

As the soft, fluffy kobolds swarmed over him, pushing him down and leaning their weight against him, Gaius sat down and bent forward so that they could restrain him more easily, holding out both hands.

“Wahahahaha!” Gaius cheered with joy and put up no resistance as they tied his binds.

＊

After he’d had his fill of being buried in fur, Gaius allowed himself to be led into a building slightly larger than the other dwellings. Its roof was low, however, and even when he crawled in on his hands and knees, he could only barely fit through the entrance. The earth inside had been dug out, which made the room a little more spacious, but with Gaius’s massive build, it would still be an exceptionally tight fit. Apparently, this was originally a storehouse, which the villagers had hurriedly prepared to hold their new captive.

“Get in there, human!” They pushed Gaius inside, prodding him with spears and axes. Once inside, they bound his ankles together and tied his arms against his body with several loops of rope.

“And keep it down, you human!” With that, they all left, though it seemed someone was still at the entrance. A guard, perhaps.

“Well, now, what do I do about this?” Gaius said to himself, adjusting his body to get more comfortable in his simple jail.

The question that troubled him the most was why kobolds loathed humans so much. It did not appear that they mistrusted all other races on principle, since they seemed to harbor no negative feelings toward trolls. So whatever had happened, it must have been between kobolds and humans, perhaps even just these kobolds in particular.

He wondered if the kobolds had had some kind of quarrel with a nearby village, but that made little sense. The Greatwood was vast enough to house many villages, so there should be no reason for kobold and human interests to conflict. The settlers’ primary concern was fighting to maintain their borders against the incessant growth of trees. Even under perfect conditions—and they were far from perfect—it would take human settlers years to clear enough woodland to reach kobold territory.

For one thing, they had their hands full dealing with the forest’s ever-hungry trees and magical beasts. Even if they considered kobolds to be monsters, they could hardly afford to waste energy fighting with a group they could communicate with. Though they were ignorant of other races, the settlers were still rationalists, products of their harsh environment.

Then what? Grumbling and groaning, Gaius couldn’t make sense of it. He tried posing the question to the guard, but all he got in response was “Shut it, human!”

Without any answers, all Gaius could do was continue to wonder.

＊

The sound of the guard talking with someone reached Gaius.

“All right, my turn now.”

“What about your kids?”

“It’s fine, my neighbor’s keeping an eye on them.” After a brief pause, a white kobold entered the hut, holding a clay pot on a tray. It was White Fog.

“Brought you some dinner.” She set the tray with the stew pot down in front of Gaius, before walking around him and untying the ropes at his back.

“I appreciate it.” Gaius rubbed at his wrists where the ropes had left marks. In response to his gratitude, Fog gave a small smile. “No reason to thank me.”

“Go on, then, eat up before it goes cold. We didn’t drain the blood from the meat as quick as we usually do, though, so it smells pretty awful. Probably tastes that way, too.”

“I’m grateful for anything that will fill my empty stomach. What kind of meat is it?”

“It’s from the bear you took down. The men went back for its meat. Wouldn’t want all that going to waste, would we?”

“Ah, I see.” Gaius stirred the soup, staring down at the floating chunks of meat. Eventually, he steeled himself, picked up the wooden spoon, and brought it up to his mouth. Once he tasted it, he found it tasted like ordinary animal meat.

He ate the rest in a hurry.

“I’ve never had bugbear before.”

“Haha, we don’t eat it too often here. Those six-legged bears are brutal, and powerful too. Hey, sorry about what happened earlier,” she added as she began to gather up the dishes.

“No, the fault was mine. I didn’t explain myself properly.”

“Give me a break, that’s not true.” She laughed bitterly, which made Gaius smile slightly, too.

“I have a question, Fog.”

“What’s that?”

“Why are humans so despised here?”

Fog’s face clouded over, and she froze. She took a deep breath and looked Gaius in the eye. Slowly, she sat down in front of him and began to speak.

“You saw our houses around here, right?”

“Indeed. They’re so small and adorable!”

“That’s not what I mean. They’re a right mess, all of them. They’re barely held together. They’re not gonna last the winter, no way. Some village. And you know why?” Gaius cocked his head. Only bad reasons came to mind.

“Our last village, where we used to live, got attacked by you humans. You kicked us out.”

＊

It had been toward the end of winter. Suddenly, a band of humans arrived.

Without any warning, several of them drew their swords, readied their bows, and prepared to cast spells. They laid waste to the village and slaughtered kobolds. Men and women. The elderly, adults, and children. Indiscriminately.

The village warriors took up their own weapons, but they were no match for the size and strength of the humans. Or their combat technology, or their equipment. Most of the kobold warriors fell, and for those who managed to survive, it was all they could do to escape.

One-third of the village was killed, and another third went missing as they fled. All they wanted was to survive, but the Greatwood is not a kind land. By now, they’ve most likely fallen to hunger or the cold, or else became food for magical beasts.

Fog, who was pregnant at the time, managed to escape with the others, and after some wandering, they arrived at this area.

Her husband had stayed behind with the other soldiers, though, and fought the humans. To buy them time.

And he never returned to his wife’s side.

＊

The sun began to rise while Fog told her story. The only light within the hut came from outside.

“My husband was a great potter, but a real dummy. He was no soldier, but still went and...oh, brother! Are you crying?!” Gaius replied with a sniffle.

“Come on, what are you crying for?” With a wry smile, Fog picked up the tray and stood up. “There you have it. That’s why they all hate humans. I don’t like that they’re doing all this to the guy who saved my life, but you understand why, right?”

There was the sound of Gaius blowing his nose loudly.

He nodded, wiping at his nose with a cloth he’d pulled out of his breast pocket.

“So can you keep quiet about this place? You know, when you leave the forest.”

“Of course.”

“Thanks.” Fog chuckled and smiled, then headed for the entrance. “Well, that’s the way it is. We didn’t have much time to build this place, so we’re always low on supplies. We need all the firewood we can get, so everyone goes to bed early once it gets dark.”

“I see.”

“I’m beat, too. I’ll probably fall asleep as soon as I put these dishes away.”

“Uh-huh.”

“All right then. Goodbye, Gaius. I’m really, really grateful you saved me.” She looked back at him one more time, then left.

Fog did not return that night.

＊

The next morning, Gaius greeted Fog with a smile as she stood at the entrance frozen, a dumbfounded look on her face.

“Good morning! You’re quite careless as a guard. You forgot to tie me up again when you left! Hahaha!”

“Wha-wha-wha-wha-wha—”

“What?”

“What the hell are you still doing here?! Why didn’t you run for it?!”

Gaius cocked his head.

“Why do you think I sent the guard away and untied you?!”

“Huh?! So you didn’t forget to tie me up?!”

Had Gaius not been sitting on the floor against the wall, he would have fallen over in surprise.

Seeing his reaction, Fog clapped a hand to her forehead and sighed heavily.

There was a brief awkward pause.

“I, er...that is...I am sorry,” he managed clumsily, scratching his head.

...Gaius Beldarus was quite slow on the uptake.