The day after His Majesty ordered me to mediate the dispute in Kerulgarz, I loaded a dragon keeper onto Veralgon’s back and made for Kadann Hill. Kadann Hill was a modest bit of land consisting of just two villages and a temple, with a hill in the center that was considered sacred ground. It was about half a day from the royal capital by dragon.
Kadann Hill was the land that had been granted to me—the hero from another world. It came hand in hand with the irksome title of field marshal. This title would normally have given me control over the kingdom’s entire armed forces in place of His Majesty, who was still only a minor, but as I had just arrived in this world without any personal connections, it was little more than a formality.
Kerulgarz lay south of Kadann Hill, just one territory over. The plan was to spend a night at the lord’s manor in Kadann Hill before leaving early the next morning.
Having touched down in front of the stables, I handed off the reins to the keeper, who took them and gingerly led Veralgon inside. This was understandable, as Veralgon was in a foul mood. I had forced him on when he wasn’t in perfect condition, carrying two riders to boot. That would’ve made me grumpy too.
Under normal circumstances, we would have rested several days before embarking, but there was little to be done when the king gave a direct order. He had said, “After witnessing the intensity of that white dragon, I think no one would dare oppose you.” He did speak some truth. After seeing such an irritated dragon, anyone would drop their pitchfork and run for the hills.
Torson soon came from the manor to greet me. I’d sent him a message within the day to alert him of my coming, which must have arrived safely, as he didn’t seem the least bit surprised. Behind him, a woman and several attendants appeared in the manor’s entrance. It took a moment for me to recognize the woman as Megriel, the aspiring hero. Today, she wore riding clothes, primarily red in color. The outfit wasn’t meant for women but was akin to the clothing a man might wear under his armor. The contrast between her calm childlike face and masculine crimson clothing evoked sensuality somehow.
I glanced questioningly at Torson, but he only shook his head. He evidently had no idea why she was there either. I didn’t know how the news of my coming had reached her, and it would probably be in my best interest to look into it.
“It’s been a while, Hero.” Meg got down on one knee and offered a knightly salute. Torson retreated a step behind her and followed suit. Meg was the proxy head of her house, which put her at a higher rank than Torson, who was a royalty-appointed governor.
Once greetings had been exchanged, Meg pouted and came out with a rather incomprehensible statement. “You’re getting up to some interesting things, I hear. But not a word of it to me? You don’t feel bad about that?”
“What are you referring to?” I asked, and she scowled.
“That’s no tone to take with a retainer who’s sworn their loyalty to you,” she rebuked me. So was this the proper tone for a retainer to take with her lord? I highly doubted that, but I didn’t care enough to get into it.
“What’s up?”
“Oh, I heard all about it! You led the dragon riders and forced the orcish armies to retreat. Didn’t you promise to take me into battle with you?”
I didn’t recall making that promise, but I was losing faith in my own memory, seeing how impassioned she was about this. Knowing her, though, it was possible she’d forced such a promise on me without me realizing it. It was best that I ask Torson about it later.
“I thought you’d be too busy getting your house in order,” I replied. “In any case, the forces of Morsharz couldn’t have played a part while the valley was sealed up. I don’t think they’ll have a part in the near future either.”
“Really? That bites.” She thought to herself for a moment, no doubt scheming something awful.
“If you want action that badly, why not become a dragon rider? Once you’re able to maneuver a dragon well enough, I can put you to work as soon as you want.”
At this proposal, Meg lifted her face excitedly.
It wasn’t as if I’d offered it out of kindness; I had a gut feeling that keeping her close and reined in was far safer than leaving the frustrated young lady to take matters into her own hands. It would also be far more reassuring to leave the Knights of Morsharz under the supervision of her uncle, who seemed to understand common sense. On top of that, Meg had enough natural talent to casually touch Veralgon. That would surely be to her advantage.
“Yeah,” she said, considering it. “Becoming history’s first female dragon rider is certainly appealing…”
“Right? I bet you’d be a fine rider! Sir Rigel might oppose it, but I’m sure I could convince him.” I pushed the point, since she still seemed hesitant.
“But…”
“What’s stopping you?”
“That’s not exactly what I want to be.”
Apparently, the young lady didn’t just want fame and fortune.
“I see. So what do you want to be?”
“I picture myself leading an army and fighting like my father. I do admire dragon riders, but there is a limit to what one fighter can accomplish on their own.”
One’s individual limit was something I was well aware of myself. The powers I was able to use varied depending on which world I was sent to, but even in the worlds where I could draw upon massive wells of magic, I was unable to do everything alone. This was even more evident in this world, where the mana was so thin.
While I was ruminating about this, a gleam came to Meg’s eyes. “If I were to lead an army, then the powers at my disposal, the tactics available, and the freedom to act would be unlimited! I’d lead the elites of the elites into critical battles where humanity’s fate hung in the balance, using the utmost of my might and ingenuity! Doesn’t that get you heated just thinking about it?”
She said this with the passionate expression of a maiden in love, despite being anything but. It definitely did get me heated, but not in the way she meant. I was a gentleman visitor from a world where gender-based distinctions were fading, so I wouldn’t speak of such things out loud.
Instead, I asked about our current reality. “Incidentally, what are you doing here? Have you finished uniting the lesser lords?”
“Of course!” She perked up another notch, as if she’d been waiting for that very question. “They have all sworn loyalty to my brother, of course, and to me as well. Morsharz is ready to answer the hero’s call at any moment. Also…”
Meg turned and called to one of her attendants behind her. On closer inspection, I saw that her attendants were all women in masculine attire, and they were all quite stunning as well. Meg really had been doing whatever she pleased since coming into her new position.
One of the butler-like maids came forth with an item wrapped in expensive cloth and handed it to Meg. She undid the wrapping and revealed the sword and scabbard, adorned with my crest, that I had lent to her earlier.
“The lords took their oaths without any major complications, thanks to this. You can have it back now.” She reverently held it out to me with gestures befitting a knight. Grinning, she said, “Since you will be going on to Kerulgarz tomorrow, I thought it would be a good idea to have a sword on your person, so I came here as quickly as I could.”
In combat, a spear of light was more than weapon enough, and it was far more convenient than a sword. However, a field marshal needed a sword at his hip for the sake of appearance in public. Swords were a symbol of power, after all. I did have a spare on me, but it made little impression without the crest and ornaments of the real deal, so I was grateful for her consideration.
The problem, however, was how she had known to meet me here. I’d received orders from His Majesty only yesterday, after all. It had taken half a day by dragon to get here, so how had she caught word of my visit?
She must have read my dubious expression because she said with a smile, “I have a lot of friends.” She left it at that. I doubted I would get any more out of her, but to be fair, there were multiple ways to relay information, such as carrier pigeons.
I accepted the sword from her, looking it over to ascertain if there were any dents in the scabbard. Not that I thought she would treat the sword roughly, but it was an important ceremonial piece, so I felt I must. The scabbard seemed quite all right, but what about the weapon itself?
“You didn’t chip the blade, did you?” I joked as I unsheathed it.
“Don’t worry, I ground out all the nicks,” she replied.
Don’t worry? Why had she needed to grind the blade down? The sword had been brand-new when I’d given it to her. I wanted to ask her about this, but at the same time, I didn’t want to get into it now. I slid the sword back into its scabbard after having drawn it only halfway out. I didn’t know what she had used my sword for, but no doubt she had swung it in my name.
When my conversation with Meg had concluded, Torson hesitantly approached me.
“Hero, I have something to report.”
“Yes, what is it?”
“I have finished removing the previous field marshal’s furnishings, as ordered.”
This was good news. Those uncanny orc items that the previous resident had left behind were gone now, which meant I could stay here with some peace of mind. But why did Torson look so apologetic about it?
“Did something happen?”
“Yes, well… I contacted Sir Aumas’s successor and offered to hand the items over to their household, but they declined.”
Of course they would. Those items were clearly cursed.
“They said I could dispose of them however I saw fit, so I tried donating them to a furniture dealer…”
Torson related how he had called in a furniture dealer he knew without going into details on the items in question. Once the merchant saw the articles he was to take, he swooned—and then fled the moment he regained consciousness.