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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 17
Chapter Title: Wolf's Port (1)
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Kirhas seemed uncomfortable in her heavy armor. She kept fidgeting with the chainmail's fit.
"More comfortable on horseback than I expected?"
"Ah, milord... You didn't think my tribe just forages roots in the mountains, did you?"
Kirhas flushed as she replied. Fernandez felt a slight pang. What did he know about catfolk tribal culture anyway?
"Er... Of course not. Hm! We're already here?"
The eastern region of the Fairn Kingdom was vast plains and granary lands. Riding at full gallop on mana horses, there was no place beyond the Inquisition Keep they couldn't reach in five days.
Both Kirhas and Fernandez were the terse type, speaking only when necessary. That let them focus entirely on the road ahead.
There, in the distance, lay [Merlinport]. The gateway to the Central Sea, linked to the North Sea routes—it was the Fairn Kingdom's largest port city. Its nickname? 'Golden Harbor.' A wealthy hub connecting the southern mega-continent's trade roads via the Central Sea's silk routes.
And every wealthy city carried the stench of heresy. As was par for the course in this era.
"Halt! State your identity!"
It was the renowned Merlinport gate guard. Soldiers in heavier plate than most heavy knights eyed them sharply.
"Identity...?"
But the question was odd. They wore Order of St. John knight armor. Their surcoats blazed with dragon and lance heraldry. Asking for ID?
"Order of St. John, Angelo. This is my squire, Basila."
"Sir, given the times, we're verifying identities at the gates."
"Even for merchants? Must keep you busy."
A city with that much foot traffic, checked every time? Fernandez pulled the knight order's credentials from his saddlebag and handed them over.
The guard read the papers politely, then nodded.
"Thank you for your cooperation, sir! Most caravans get inspected at the harbor!"
"Recent trouble?"
"...Monsters appearing in the city streets."
"Monsters? Know what kind?"
"Stalks alleys at night, kills, vanishes. No survivors, but... tracks suggest lycanthrope."
Lycanthropy was a mutation disease striking humans with feral rage fever. Victims turned monstrous in a fortnight, their forms eerily like beastfolk. No wonder citizens turned cold toward them.
'No surprise—Kirhas is catfolk.'
Unrelated to lycanthropy, but prejudice was a fearsome beast. Fernandez glanced at Kirhas staring silently ahead, then entered the city.
"First, secure lodging."
"Yes, milord. But..."
The Inquisition had booked them at [The Three Horses], a high-end church tavern. Yet Fernandez bypassed the familiar streets like an old hand, heading to a dingy hole-in-the-wall inn tucked in an alley.
[The Star and Mermaid] drew low-rung sailors and mercenaries. Past life, Fernandez had stumbled in chasing "cheap lodging" and regretted it hard.
[The Star and Mermaid] was a blatant outpost for slaver crime rings.
"You're really staying here?"
"Hm. Been here before?"
"Uh... no."
Kidnapped and dragged by slavers, Golden Harbor inns wouldn't be familiar to Kirhas. Familiar or not, this place screamed shady.
"Come on iiiin!!!"
A man with a milky cataract in one eye shuffled up giggling, grabbing their horse's reins. Fernandez grinned and tossed him half an eastern silver. The man snatched it mid-air like a pro.
"Three nights. Got rooms?"
"One do?"
"Ah, no, two..."
"One's fine."
"M-Milord?!"
They'd camped rough till now, bedding down with bedrolls. But this was an inn. Sharing a room? Kirhas stared up at Fernandez in panic. He unpacked nonchalantly.
"Ah, you can leave 'em. Stables're safe..."
"Basila. Grab the gear."
"Uh... yes."
Ignoring the man's tsk, Fernandez shoved open the sliding door to the rowdy tavern.
*Reminds me of old times...*
"Know why we're here?"
*Of course. To meet the master.*
"Think he's still around?"
*How should I know that old coot's mind? Timing matches, though...*
Feizashi drifted back into thought. Fernandez shrugged.
*
Rough men chugging and bellowing in the tavern went dead quiet, eyes locking on the stranger.
'Who the hell's that?'
'Knight?'
'Why's a knight here?'
Famous house or order knights stayed at nobles' or caravansary inns. Even wandering knights had endless options. So why this dive?
"W-Welcome...?"
"Not impressed. Got a room?"
"Dunno if it'll suit ye...?"
"I'll manage."
Then Kirhas staggered in, arms piled with gear. Catfolk's signature turquoise eyes gleamed beautiful, skin flawless. Her sharp jawline like honed steel made the men gulp and stare.
"...One room, right...?"
"Yeah."
Kirhas shot Fernandez a look like she had words. He smirked and climbed the stairs. Fernandez whispered to her struggling behind.
"Watch yourself tonight."
"You, milord?"
"...What?"
Fernandez blinked blankly at Kirhas. She blushed.
"P-Please take care. Sh-Should I wash first?"
"What're you on about? They'll come kidnap you tonight—stay sharp."
"Kidnap? In a big city like this?"
"Big cities got all sorts. I'll be gone three days."
"What?!"
Kirhas's voice spiked in shock. Fernandez scowled and shushed her with a finger. She shrank, whispering.
"Wh-Where to? What about sleep?"
"Tested it—Demonica can go three days no sleep."
Max for average combat and judgment. Fernandez had pulled all-nighters for experiments other monks wouldn't dare.
"Anyway. Got three days to find something in this city."
"And me?"
"If they come snatch you, beat 'em down. Make nice with the [Red Axe Band]. Need 'em."
"Red Axe Band? Mercenaries?"
Fernandez chuckled.
"Outwardly, yeah. Warriors who worship devils."
Kirhas's eyes iced over.
"Best approach angle, milord?"
"...Sharp. Wandering knight hiring mercs. If they sniff inquisitor, assume we're dead."
"Got it."
Fernandez dropped his gear, stroked Kirhas's sweat-damp hair. She closed her eyes, savoring his touch. Smooth locks, tiny perked ears peeking through—pure bliss.
*Can she handle it solo?*
'Trust her. Even young, she's Kirhas Hearttaker. No way she falters here.'
Kirhas at her peak soloed a demon duke, rumor had it. Red Axe Band? Child's play.
This city was a warzone: Bronze Scales branch dug in, ancient lone lich roaming, Holy Pantheon of Good Gods' McLerran Church clashing. Shaking the locked board needed a wild card.
*Owed the Red Axe Band big in the past life.*
*
Fernandez slipped into light gear and hit the night streets. Gloridayne lessons: one longsword sheathed.
*Tweet. Tweet.*
Night watchmen's calls echoed. Merlinport was a free-trade city, no curfew usually. But lycanthrope panic had them patrolling.
"Lycanthrope, huh. Solid bet?"
*Fits that old man's tastes.*
Guard mentioning it had Fernandez half-convinced. This era, his black mage "master" holed up in Merlinport.
As his errand slave back then, Fernandez didn't recall the exact lair. But tracking lycanthropes would lead there. He desperately needed the old man's relic now.
Anyway, watchmen prowling alleys forced stealth on poor Fernandez.
"Not my hobby, skulking..."
"Ah, same here, eh?"
"?!'
Fernandez muttered low—voice replied right behind. Cold sweat. Slipping Demonica senses this close?
"...Who're you?"
"We're both sneaking, hiding that, right?"
"Huh. Fair."
The man behind pressed a cold blade to Fernandez's spine cautiously. Fernandez winced at the chill.
"What's this?"
"You hunting lycanthropes too?"
The man growled in his ear.
"Or are you the lycanthrope?"
"Hey, ever seen one chatting all normal?"
"Nope. Not yet. But if I did, you'd fit: sneaky, sharp, cautious."
"...Touché."
*Keen one.*
Fernandez smirked, eased back slow. The blade didn't press deeper. Fernandez turned.
"Order of St. John, Angelo."
"Angelo... Order of St. John? On wandering oath?"
"Something like that."
"Why's a knight prowling eaves at night?"
Slim leather coat, hat pulled low—hunter garb.
"Same business as you, I bet. Your name?"
"From Fairn Royal Hunting School. Call me Karl."
"Royal Hunting School? Monster hunters?"
"Fighting words!"
Karl grumbled, edge dulled. Fairn Royal Hunting School: monster hunter academy. Pros slaying kingdom-spanning beasts.
"School means the crown knows this mess?"
"Nah. Heard trolls nearby, came for that. Lycanthrope's a bonus."
Karl chuckled.
"Join the hunt, sir knight?"
"Nah. On wandering oath."
"Ah. How noble."
Karl sneered. Knights' wandering oaths: quests for fame and glory. Fernandez hunted solo.
"Fine. Bag it before me."
Karl vanished round the corner, shadow-melding grace. Fernandez watched, muttering.
"Karl. Ring any bells?"
*Doctor Carlo Mano Pavilos... Big fish.*
"Thought he was vampire slayer—grabs everything?"
*Hunting schools were versatile back then.*
Vampires: night nobles, undead kings. Ither race, devil-unrelated, yet Holy Pantheon foes...
Professor Pavilos solo-wiped top bloodline 'Seldenburg' house. Humanity's hero.
Pre-Fernandez's black mage days, but legendarily famous. Heroes popped up everywhere this era—Fernandez griped.
"Master's bound to experiment with lycanthropes. Messy."
*We might've missed it. If Carlo bagged the werewolf early, case closed before we noticed.*
"True. Ditch the master hunt?"
Fernandez pondered. Prime goal: smash Bronze Scales. Finding master or wrapping lycanthropes? Side quest.
But master had [Secret Sight]. Near pinnacle of modern magecraft relic. No copies. Past life, never claimed it—didn't need to. Now, magicless Fernandez? Essential.
[Mana Sense], [Sense Amp], [Spell Probe]. Peerless for tracking black mages and demon summoners.
"GYAAAAAH!!!!"
A horrific scream pierced distant alleys. Fernandez bolted toward it.