The headquarters of the Thormann Company was located in the prime commercial district of Wesala, in what could be considered the most prime location within that area.
Holger, a government official involved in trade within the Duchy of Gerald, came to visit Ulrich Thormann, the head of the Thormann Company, just as Ulrich was taking a break, eating a greasy pastry in the reception area of his spacious office.
“Mr. Thormann, it’s been a while. About 70 hours, I’d say.”
“Indeed. I feel like I see your face more than my wife’s these days.”
The two exchanged easy smiles and shook hands.
Both were in their mid-forties. Holger, a thin man wearing the blue-black official uniform of a government worker, and Ulrich, dressed in flamboyant red clothing and possessing the unique talent of being called ‘pig’ by every child he met, were a study in contrasts. Though Holger seemed nervous and Ulrich boisterous (some might say insensitive), they appeared to get along famously, and the two had hit it off through their work.
“So, did you get a favorable reply?”
“Yes, they are very eager to talk.”
“That’s wonderful! It’s all thanks to the Duke, you, and… no, above all, to His Majesty, the new King!”
Ulrich tried to slap his knee, but he accidentally slapped his protruding belly instead.
The Thormann Company was a trading company that primarily dealt in exports, and some imports. Among the goods they handled was Ciel-Terra’s prized product: Glacelm.
Until now, Glacelm had been bought from the mines at prices dictated by the government and exported to the Federation at prices also dictated by the government (that is, by the Federation).
How unfair those prices were! Despite being granted permission by the authorities to handle this ultra-high-end product, the profits were a pittance. The mere honor of ‘being a merchant worthy of handling Glacelm’ wasn’t enough to put food on the table.
But those humiliating days were finally coming to an end.
With the ascension of the new King, the handling of Glacelm was about to change.
The Duke of Gerald had connections in Noacurio and Dilletta and was working as a territory to develop new sales routes for Glacelm. Ulrich had been meeting frequently with Holger recently to discuss this matter. If things continued this way, Ulrich would be able to sell Glacelm to places other than the Federation.
Serves them right, he thought. He could practically see the panicked faces of the stingy Federation officials who had been buying Glacelm at rock-bottom prices. It was no longer a matter of debate that the Federation, as a nation, looked down on Ciel-Terra, but even the Federation’s licensed merchants who bought Glacelm treated Ulrich as if he were some kind of underling. This, Ulrich could not abide.
Ulrich, of course, knew the true value of Glacelm. What would happen if he could sell Glacelm to Noacurio at its proper price? Even if he paid the mines a little more, Ulrich’s pockets would be lined with an unprecedented amount of profit!
Just thinking about it made his mouth water. It did water.
…Ulrich believed that he would be able to buy Glacelm from the mines tomorrow, the day after, and forevermore, just as he had today, but he was unaware that the Four Great Nations were demanding the management rights to the Glacelm mines.
And, he was also completely unaware that his chances of surviving to see tomorrow morning were extremely low.
“Speaking of which, I hear the Duke is gathering troops.”
“…Yes.”
When Ulrich brought this up casually, Holger’s eyes darted around.
Seeing this reaction, Ulrich smiled knowingly.
Even a child would know that the Duke was gathering troops because of the situation in the city, but Ulrich was aware of the circumstances behind it.
“Just between you and me, is it true that ‘it’ is still on the run?”
“That’s…”
“I won’t tell, I won’t tell anyone! So, please tell me.”
Ulrich shook his head vigorously, the flabby flesh around his neck wobbling with a burunburun sound.
A merchant of Ulrich’s caliber would inevitably hear information that the general public was unaware of.
He had heard that the “Rose Princess of Hellrage,” who was supposed to have been slain by the First Knight Commander in the capital, had escaped. And he understood why the country wanted to keep it hidden.
If the Named Monster, who had wreaked havoc in the capital, especially the former king’s daughter who had turned into an undead, had been missed, it would be a major blunder for the Knights, whose job it was to protect the people, and a stain on the new government. It was undesirable for rumors that would destabilize the reign of Hilbert II, who had just transitioned to power and was not yet on solid ground, to spread among the common people.
“Rest assured, I know what the capital was like that day. I wouldn’t think the Knights were incompetent even if they did miss it. I’d rather say they did a good job.”
“I see…”
“The square was overflowing with people, like a minecart crammed with ore! Everyone was shouting, ‘Kill her!’ ‘Death to the traitor!’ Two were beheaded that day, but first, the mother was brought out and beheaded. After that, the daughter came, but… I thought the guillotine had shattered, and then she floated up into the air, holding her severed head. It was shocking! But from then on, that thing used a strange magic and killed everyone who had gathered! It was absolute chaos. Everyone was panicking and trying to escape. It was like an avalanche! I ran away in a hurry, too. And all the while, it was using magic…”
Ulrich had been telling this story to everyone he met lately. He had come to the capital for business on the day of the execution.
Everyone listened intently to this story, so Ulrich was very proud of it. Even if his survival was simply a product of luck, his escape from that major incident was undoubtedly a heroic tale that captivated listeners. After all, it was a firsthand account, far more compelling than a bard’s tale, and filled with raw, visceral reality.
“…After the commotion died down, I walked around the city, and it was terrible. The beautiful cityscape of Teirarare was a mess. Buildings were, like, completely destroyed. People were piled up, collapsed…”
Holger had heard this story about five times already, but he didn’t show any signs of disliking it, whether he genuinely found it interesting every time or was just being considerate of Ulrich.
“Considering they were up against such a monster, the fact that they managed to at least repel it is commendable. The Knights did their job. …Hm? What were we talking about?”
“Well, about the Duke gathering troops…”
“Ah, yes, that’s right!”
“It’s not wrong to say that it’s a countermeasure against that thing. A village in the territory was attacked by a horde of undead, and the Duke seems to think that thing is pulling the strings from behind.”
“Hmm, I suppose so. If that’s the case, then this time it’s the end for it. Buhyahyahyahya!”
Ulrich intended to laugh heartily with a ‘Kahahahaha!’, but his face, obstructed by flesh, produced a squashed, stifled laugh.
“Back then, it suddenly appeared in the middle of the city and went on a rampage, but I doubt they’ll fail twice or thrice. The Royal Knights and adventurers will come out, and the Duke’s soldiers are strong, too. With this, His Majesty will finally rid Ciel-Terra of the shadow of the former King. It’s best to exterminate pests early!”
“Yes. I’m sure it will go well.”
“And then, glorious prosperity will follow.”
Imagining the days of glory that would surely begin in Ciel-Terra, the two grinned.
“It’s all thanks to the wise decisions of His Majesty and the Duke. I can’t thank them enough. And in contrast, the foolish former King! …The last one ended up like that, but seeing their heads chopped off was a truly satisfying sight. Well, for me, it was like avenging the hundreds and thousands of gold coins that were killed by the Federation. Now both my country and my company are secure. The former King’s family can enjoy their time in the grave, drinking the Federation’s famous slime tea. Buhyahyahyahyahyahyahya!”
By the way, slime tea is often used in ethnic jokes about the Federation, and even the locals consider it a ‘disgusting thing that resembles a beverage’ (some people insist on drinking it, claiming it has medicinal properties, but most alchemists deny this).
“Haha…”
Holger laughed along, but his laughter was cut short.
A roar. The Thormann Company headquarters, built as sturdy as a fortress with stone, shook.
Holger collapsed from the sofa onto the floor, forming a pool of blood.
It took Ulrich about 10 seconds to realize that the outer wall, the corridor, and the wall of the room had been destroyed by an explosion spell, and the debris that flew as a result had directly hit Holger’s head, splitting it in half.
“…I was right.”
From the other side of the billowing dust cloud, a girl’s voice, burning with a cold intensity, spoke.
“There are still so many of these people… I can’t rest peacefully…”
The clack of shoes hitting the stone floor echoed loudly.
“H-a-a-aaaaaaah!?”
Ulrich let out a clumsy scream, clinging to the back of the sofa.
The intruder was a headless girl wearing a white dress with a blood-red rose painted on the skirt. In her right hand, a red sword that looked like it was carved from a jewel. In her left hand, her own head. Her silver hair was stunningly beautiful, but her childish face was expressionless with anger. Her silver eyes held a murderous intent that shone coldly like a frozen lake.
As if she had stepped straight out of Ulrich’s story, the monster from that day was there.
“I’m a little bored right now. My subordinate is working. So, I thought of something good. Let’s play a game with me.”