This was the dense jungle at the northwesternmost edge of the Holy Amelia Kingdom. The surrounding area had once been ruled by the beastfolk, but the Holy Amelia Kingdom had seized and conquered it.
This sea of trees sprawled across the northern border of the territory controlled by those Amelian bastards. Within its depths, one's sense of direction was completely scrambled. Furthermore, the forest teemed with treacherous natural hazards, from venomous flora to carnivorous plants.
Even the mighty Glitnir Empire had judged an invasion of the Holy Amelia Kingdom through this sea of trees to be impossible. Anyone in their right mind knew never to set foot into this land of death.
Why, then, was Zignir wandering through such a place? Because he had abandoned the army. On the march back to the Imperial Capital, he had left behind a written note and slipped away from his unit. No—there was no point in dressing it up. Simply put, Zignir had deserted.
He had lost to that black-haired swordsman in pure swordplay. It had been a complete and utter defeat. How much easier it would have been to accept if it had been a narrow loss, like the time he was defeated by Arnold. But the reality was that it hadn't even been a contest; the man hadn't even bothered to treat him like a child. To that black-haired youth, Zignir was likely no different from the second-rate, washed-up mercenaries he had spent his life looking down on as small fry.
There is always someone stronger out there. Therefore, you must never neglect your daily training, so you are ready for those soul-shaking battles against the mighty. That was what his grandfather had drilled into him since childhood until his mouth was sore.
Yet, among his peers—no, in the entire Empire outside of his grandfather—not a single person had ever bested Zignir in swordsmanship until now. And so, he had dismissed his grandfather's warnings. Overriding his grandfather's fierce objections, he had gone and joined a foolish organization called the Six Knight Generals.
I've achieved everything there is for a swordsman. He had been so conceited it was laughable. But when put to the test, Zignir's swordsmanship was nothing more than child's play. Somewhere along the way, he had forgotten the single most important virtue of a swordsman.
"There's no going back now..."
The murmur slipped past his lips, and the realization that he could never return to his homeland gripped his heart like a vice.
The reigning emperor, Amnes di Glitnir, was ruthless. Zignir had deserted the imperial army, after all. His flight might very well bring about the downfall of the House of Gastrea if things went poorly. He knew that. He knew the immense trouble he was heaping onto his grandfather and the rest of his family. Even so, he had a premonition that if he returned to the Empire now, he would lose what was most precious to him as a swordsman and never be able to hold a blade again.
That was why he was doing something so utterly pointless.
Suddenly, several black silhouettes burst from between the towering trees, charging straight toward him.
"GUOOOOOHHH!!"
With a sweep of his longsword, he severed the neck of a bear-like monster swinging its massive right arm from behind, then smoothly reversed his blade to impale the skull of a giant ape lunging from the branches above.
An instant later, a dull throb shot through his left leg. He snapped his gaze downward to find a giant serpent sinking its fangs into his left ankle.
"Damn it!"
He drove his sword through the serpent's head and ripped it open.
Hurriedly gouging out the bitten flesh with his knife, he poured what little liquor and crushed herbs he had over the wound.
He had slipped up. It was definitely a venomous snake. How pathetic. Truly laughable. To fall behind against trash like this—how had he dared to call himself the strongest swordsman without a shred of shame? In the end, Zignir was just another third-rate hack you could find anywhere.
His vision blurred. Sweat poured from every pore.
A paralytic venom, then. If he lost consciousness here, he would be monster chow in seconds. This wilderness wasn't as forgiving as the pampered life he had led until now.
At last, the strength drained from his limbs. Sinking to his knees, he fell backward onto the cold earth.
"Kuhaha..."
A dry laugh wheezed from his throat. Even after deserting the army, he had failed to become a true swordsman, only to die a pathetic, lonely death out here in the dirt.
"I guess I had it coming."
This was the price for resting on his laurels and never truly dedicating himself to the blade. Only after falling this low did he finally understand: the path of the sword was an endless, thorny road of relentless self-refinement. There was no final destination. His duel with that black-haired man had driven that lesson home with brutal clarity.
"Still... what a waste... Please. God of the sword. Give me just one more chance!"
Reaching out to grasp the empty air with his left hand, Zignir blacked out.
◇◆◇◆◇◆
When his eyes fluttered open, an unfamiliar ceiling greeted him.
He tried to sit up, but his body wouldn't budge. He turned the only part of him that would move—his neck—and spotted the worried face of a silver-haired beastfolk girl.
"Ah, you're awake! Papa, Mama!"
The girl's face lit up instantly, and she scampered out of the room with hurried footsteps.
Moments later, a massive, bearded blond beastfolk man and a silver-haired beastfolk woman stepped inside together.
"Are you an Amelian?"
The giant blond beastfolk demanded in a tone that brooked no argument. Zignir glanced down at himself and saw that he was bound securely to the bed with ropes. Depending on how he answered, his life was probably forfeit.
Well, it was a life he had already thrown away once anyway. He might as well see how far he could take it.
"No. I'm an Imperial."
He saw the silver-haired woman's expression harden. Naturally. The Empire had built its glory by invading and subjugating other races. To the beastfolk, Imperials were nothing but enemies.
"Why have you come to this land?"
The giant blond man asked a question that was hard to answer cleanly.
"No real reason, I guess."
"No reason?"
"Yeah. I'm being hunted by my own country. Bottom line is, I ran away and ended up here."
Finally, some of the tension faded from the faces of the giant man and the silver-haired woman.
"What did you do to end up on the run?"
"Deserted. Got sick of everything I was doing."
"Can you prove that?"
"Nope. You'll just have to take my word for it."
"I see..."
The giant blond man rubbed his chin, pondering for a moment before speaking.
"Fine. We don't want any trouble. Once your wounds heal, get out."
"Dear!"
At the silver-haired woman's anxious cry, the man simply replied,
"His eyes aren't rotten. He'll be fine."
With that, he turned and left the room alongside the woman.
◇◆◇◆◇◆
For the next two weeks, Zignir stayed there without any real confinement, instructed only to remain in the room except when using the latrine. His wounds had healed considerably, and moving around was no longer an issue.
"And you know what? You know what? We're going to get Mew real soon!"
The young girl, Miya, chirped with boundless energy, repeating the same words for what felt like the hundredth time.
Apparently, when the Holy Amelia Kingdom's forces had attacked during the recent war, Miya and her little sister had been evacuated from their hometown first. Miya was quickly taken to safety, but her younger sister, Mew, had been captured by the kingdom's soldiers.
Now, word had reached them that she had been sold to a slave trader in the Amelian city of Balse.
"Still, how did the two of you manage to escape?"
Zignir voiced the simple question as he watched the giant blond beastfolk Gauss and the silver-haired woman Ululu.
The forces that had invaded their land belonged to one of the most prominent high nobles in the Holy Amelia Kingdom. Breaking through such an encirclement should have been next to impossible.
"Of course, those of us left behind were prepared to die. But we were saved by someone."
Gauss answered with a distant look in his eyes, weighing every word.
"Someone?"
"I can't say who. But I will tell you this: they were of the human race, just like you."
Gauss was tight-lipped by nature; he wasn't about to spill any secrets. Besides, the detail wasn't particularly important to Zignir anyway.
"Is that why you saved me, too?"
"Yeah. We don't believe all humans are evil. We learned that lesson well enough on that battlefield. After all, the only reason we were surrounded in the first place was because of an ugly betrayal by our own kind."
It wasn't just Zignir and the human race that were rotten. Perhaps that was the bitter truth of the world.
"So I asked an acquaintance of mine, a human merchant, to buy Mew back. He's negotiating with the slave trader in Balse right now, so she should be safe in our hands soon."
"Is that acquaintance the human who saved you?"
"Yeah, one of their subordinates. Truth be told, this hideout was arranged by them, too. We can never repay the debt we owe them."
"I see..."
The number of people in this world who commanded operatives skilled enough to slip past an encirclement by the Holy Amelia Kingdom's regular army was exceedingly small. Most likely—
Sudden footsteps cut Zignir's thoughts short. The front door was thrown open with a bang.
"The merchant gentleman is back!"
A young beastfolk man from the village shouted from the entryway.
"I-Is that true?!"
Gauss bolted out the door. Ululu and Miya hurried after him, and Zignir followed close behind.
A small crowd had gathered in front of Gauss's dwelling. At its center stood a gentleman sporting a neatly trimmed beard.
Straightening his posture, the gentleman spoke in a heavy voice.
"I am terribly sorry."
He bowed deeply to Gauss and his family.
"Mew was already bought, wasn't she...?"
Gauss's shoulders slumped in defeat, while the blood drained entirely from Ululu's face. Realizing she wouldn't be seeing her sister, Miya burst into tears.
"Yes. It seems we were one step too late."
"So... who bought her?"
"When I pressed the slave trader, he reacted with utter panic. In all likelihood, he has been gagged."
"Do you have any idea who it might be?"
The merchant shook his head grimly.
"Only that the trader was terrified beyond reason when I asked... It must be a high-ranking noble from a major power, royalty, or perhaps one of the underworld kings..."
The worst-case scenario. Buying back someone who had already been purchased by a third party was a massive ordeal. Worse, if the buyer was high nobility or royalty, throwing money at the problem might not work at all.
"Fine. I'll go look for her myself."
As Gauss moved to stand, the merchant quietly reasoned with him.
"I strongly advise against that. You stand out far too much. If you are captured, you will be executed on the spot."
"Then what the hell am I supposed to do?!"
To Gauss, who raised his voice in desperation, the merchant offered another calm plea.
"Right now, I have my people investigating who bought your daughter. Please, give us a little more time."
"I'm... sorry. I lost my head for a moment. Thank you for doing everything you have."
Gauss bowed to the merchant, a trickle of blood seeping from where he had bitten down on his lower lip.
Seriously, what the hell am I thinking...?
Even though he was a fugitive on the run, Zignir found himself about to do something that wouldn't benefit him in the slightest.
"I'll go find this Mew girl for you. It'll be a hell of a lot easier for me to move around than a beastfolk like you."
"And you are?"
The merchant looked Zignir up and down, sizing him up.
"Name's Jig. Use me however you want until we get that girl back."
The merchant stroked his beard in thought for a brief moment before giving a solemn nod.
"Very well. For the time being, I ask that you serve as my bodyguard."
"Got it."
"Are you sure about this, Jig? You're being hunted, too, aren't you?"
Gauss asked, his face etched with anxiety.
"Heh! You saved my life once. I was planning to pay that debt back with interest anyway. Don't worry about it."
Gauss's face twisted with emotion, and he bowed deeply to Zignir.
"Please... bring my daughter back!"
He squeezed out the desperate plea from the bottom of his heart.
And so, Zignir found a new purpose. In pursuing it, he would find himself drawn deep into the grand tapestry woven around a true monster known as Kai Heinemann.