“Hahh… so it’s that style…”
We arrived in the capital, Belju, and on seeing its pure-white palace, that was the impression that slipped out.
That thing. India’s Taj Mahal. The all-marble mausoleum supposedly built by an emperor for his beloved consort. The white-marble building whose name means Crown Palace.
Just similar, mind you — plenty of differences too.
Compared to the sun-dried-brick streets and walls, the white palace stood out enormously. To put a name on it — like an Indian palace dropped into an Arabian Nights world.
The streets the carriages rolled through felt undeveloped compared to Belfast. But the energy of the people there yielded nothing to it.
Various races passing one another, bustle on display. Many cultures intermingling, growing. That was the face of this capital, I thought.
Past streets lined with tall buildings, across the long bridge to the palace. We crossed over the city’s water channels and entered the palace grounds.
Off the carriages, Origa-san, the five of us, plus Galun-san and Lyon-san — eight in all — walked the paths past the palace gardens. Songbirds played in the lovely garden, squirrels watched from the evenly-spaced trees.
Up the long staircase, into the palace. Bright sunlight poured through the ceiling skylights, set off by the marble white — dazzling.
We crossed the colonnade-flanked hall straight through the central courtyard, and arrived at a large, ornate door.
Giiiii — with a faint creak, the gate-guards opened the doors.
Red carpet spread; light through the skylights; in the audience hall, demihumans of various kinds flanked left and right. All in fine attire — the country’s senior officials, evidently — horns here, wings there, all kinds.
At the back of the hall, on a raised throne, sat this country’s king.
Beast-King Jamuka Brau Mismid. A snow-leopard beastfolk. Early fifties or so. White hair, white beard — face carrying a king’s strength and pressure. The sharp eyes held an indescribable force, and somewhere in them, a mischievous gleam.
Before the Beast-King we all dropped to one knee and lowered our heads.
“Your Majesty… Origa Strand, returned from the Kingdom of Belfast.”
“Mm. Well done.”
The Beast-King nodded quietly. He addressed Galun-san and Lyon-san behind Origa-san next.
“Galun, and the Belfast knight — pleased that you fulfilled Origa’s escort safely.”
""Sir.""
Then the Beast-King eyed us, and a small smile played on his lips.
“You are the envoys from the King of Belfast? On the way, you alone slew the dragon that attacked Eld Village, I hear. Truth?”
“Yes. Just so. The four other than myself here defeated the black dragon that attacked the village.”
The one who answered the Beast-King’s question — undaunted, having quietly stood — was Yumina.
”…You are?”
The Beast-King turned puzzled eyes on the girl, who showed not a flicker of nervousness.
“Allow me to introduce myself. Yumina Erunea Belfast — daughter of King Tristwin Ernes Belfast of the Kingdom of Belfast.”
A wave of murmurs through the audience hall. Of course — a princess of one country appearing out of nowhere. Origa-san and Lyon-san already knew, but Galun-san’s eyes were popping in shock.
“What…! For what reason is the princess of Belfast in our country?”
“That is the importance our nation places on the alliance with Mismid. This is a letter from my father. Please confirm.”
She drew a single letter from her bosom. *When did she get hold of that. Ah — when she briefly evacuated to the Belfast palace at the village.
A close aide accepted the letter and brought it to the Beast-King. Seal opened, eyes briefly across — the Mismid king turned to Yumina, smiling.
“I see… understood. We shall consider what is written here favorably and give an answer in due time. Until then, the princess and your party — please make yourselves at ease in our palace.”
Letter passed to the aide, the Beast-King addressed us calmly.
“Now — enough of stiff matters. There is one thing that has caught me from earlier…”
The Beast-King’s eyes settled on Kōhaku at my side. Of course. He’d notice.
“That white tiger there — your companion?”
“Yes. The one called Touya here, the one accompanying him… a kind of attendant.”
“Gau.”
Kōhaku gave a short affirmation. In Mismid white tigers are sacred — calling Kōhaku an attendant felt iffy, but he wore no collar or leash, so nobody objected.
The Beast-King kept gazing at Kōhaku, then quietly turned his eyes on me.
”…I see. A hero who tames a white tiger, who slew a dragon. Hahaha — my blood stirs. How about it, Touya. Have a match with me.”
“Huh?”
While I gaped vacantly, the senior officials around let out a unanimous, defeat-tinged sigh. Eh, what’s that?
◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇
Behind the white palace was a wide arena. Like Rome’s Colosseum. This country really is too multicultural.
I’d been brought here, ending up in a match with the Beast-King. What is this, even.
“My apologies, Lord Touya. His Majesty cannot help himself when he sees a strong fighter. Honestly, we are also troubled.”
The one apologizing was the country’s prime minister, Glatz-san. A gray-winged winged-folk. Late forties. He wore robes the same gray as his wings, with a moustache.
“Best to give him a solid bruising here. Please — go all out.”
“No no no. He’s your king. Are you sure?”
I gave Glatz-san an exasperated look. The aides flanking him also began complaining.
“It’s fine — full force. What does His Majesty think state duties are! Off he wanders, off to the warrior corps’ training, beats them all bloody!”
“The other day, I just thought of a new weapon! — and bolted off to the smithy! All of his subsequent appointments shifted, do you know how much grief that caused me!?”
“He told me, let us hold a national tournament! Where would the budget for that come from!? Right!?”
…Mismid’s senior officials are also having a hard time, looks like. Strange king. Well — Belfast’s king is quite strange too, in fairness.
I took a wooden sword and headed to the center of the arena. In the audience seats: my companions, the Mismid officials, and the captain class of the Mismid warrior corps.
His Majesty waited with a wooden sword in one hand and a wooden shield in the other. Out of an unfamiliarity-impedes-movement reasoning, I declined a shield.
“The match ends when one would suffer a fatal blow if blades were real, or when one concedes defeat. Magic permitted. However, direct attack-magic on the body is forbidden. Both clear?”
The dark-skinned horned-folk acting as referee explained to His Majesty and me. No direct attack magic, then. Mngh — what to do. The senior officials want me to land a heavy one — no need to hold back.
“Are we… really doing this?”
“Hahaha — no holding back. Treat it as real combat — use any means and beat me!”
The Beast-King laughed delightedly. No good — he’s serious. Doesn’t look fifties at all — he must train.
Can’t be helped. He’s saying so himself — treat it as real.
The horned-folk referee raised his right hand high, looked between His Majesty and me, then swung it down hard.
“Begin!”
“Slip.”
“Whoa-oh!?”
Smack! — His Majesty took a magnificent fall. Closing the distance in the gap, I leveled the wooden sword at his throat.
“There — that’s the match.”
“H-h-hold on! That’s a no, surely!? What was that!?”
“My Null spell, [Slip]. As long as it’s not attack-magic, it’s allowed.”
“No, no, no! That’s no good! That’s not even a contest!”
His Majesty threw a fit at the unsatisfying decision. I get the feeling, sort of. But realistically, in true combat that’s the most effective. Doesn’t work on fliers, though.
“One more time! No magic!”
“Eeh… what do we do — Prime Minister?”
I called over to Glatz-san and the others. They looked momentarily lost, then ah — got it — and a satisfied smile crossed their faces.
“Well — any more would interfere with state duties…”
“G-Glatz! Don’t say that, just a little. Just a little — please!?”
“Even so.”
His Majesty rushed to the prime minister and started haggling. I’ll do my work! No more skipping out! I could hear. The senior officials seemed to be laying out conditions; eventually His Majesty’s shoulders dropped slightly. He’d accepted their conditions, looks like. Did I do something bad…?
“Lord Touya — sorry, but please give His Majesty one more match!”
Glatz-san’s almost-gleeful voice at my back as His Majesty took up position in front of me again. Hm? Slightly angry?
“Now — that magic is banned this time, hear me!”
“Understood.”
Reset. The referee raised his right hand again, and brought it down.
“Begin!”