Volume 1 - CH 2.1

CHAPTER 2: PARTING

Boris woke up in a grassy field.

It was bright. The sun was up. His face stung, perhaps because he’d been out in the sunlight for a little too long. He was holding a sword, but he had nothing else. There was no one around him. Boris sat up and looked around only to realize that everything about his surroundings looked completely unfamiliar.

Where was he?

He quickly recalled what had happened last night. He remembered standing back-to-back with his brother. He also remembered breathing so hard that he could feel his chin getting hot.

What had happened next?

The rest of his memories were fragmented, as if someone had taken a spoon and swirled everything together. He wasn’t used to not being able to remember things, and it bewildered him. Had he passed out? He felt like he had seen something terrifying, but…

“Boris! Are you awake?”

Boris startled and jumped up to his feet. He saw Yevgnen walking over to him while holding a wooden bucket filled with water.

“…Brother?” Boris asked hesitantly. The word had barely fallen from his lips.

Yevgnen handed his disconcerted little brother the bucket and grinned.

“Yeah, it’s me. Unless you have other brothers that I didn’t know about, that is.”

Boris stared up at Yevgnen’s face in a blank daze. It didn’t even cross his mind to take a drink. Tears suddenly began pouring out from his eyes, though he didn’t quite know why.

Puzzled, Yevgnen asked, “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” He brought his hand up to Boris’ forehead to check for a fever.

Boris dropped the bucket and hugged Yevgnen tight. Before Yevgnen could say any more, he said, “It’s nothing… I-I’m just really glad…”

Boris didn’t know why he was acting like this. It probably had something to do with what had happened last night, but he couldn’t remember the most important thing that had happened. The rest of his memories were just fine, so why was it just that one piece that was missing?

Yevgnen patted Boris’ back in silence. Then, he got down to his knees so that their eyes were level. He caressed Boris’ cheek as he asked, “Jeez, you were really shocked, weren’t you?”

They picked up the bucket and trekked back to the spring once Boris had calmed down. It wasn’t very far. The spring was small, but it was it was well-maintained and surrounded by a barrier of round rocks. Perhaps someone was taking care of it. There was a stake placed next to the spring with the broken end of the rope that had once been tied to the bucket, which Yevgnen had cut earlier.

The brothers retied the bucket to the stake once they had drunk their fill of water. Boris surveyed his surroundings. They were surrounded by grassy fields in every direction. It wasn’t too different from Longorde.

“Anyway, where are we?”

“We’re in the Hatta Plateau, which is House Guirem territory. We’re a little north of Longorde. You’ve heard of the Hatta Plateau before, right?”

Yevgnen was smiling awkwardly. Boris tilted his head quizzically to the side.

“How did we travel so far overnight?”

Yevgnen pointed toward the trees behind the spring. Boris saw that there was a horse tied to one of them. He was bewildered anew when he realized that they had been travelling on horseback all night long. How had he not woken up while riding the horse? Had he really been unconscious for that long?

There were a myriad of questions that he wanted to ask. Yevgnen seemed cheerful, however, and everything seemed so peaceful. Boris didn’t even dream that he’d get a negative response when he asked, “Where’s Father?”

“Oh…”

Yevgnen opened his mouth to reply, but he didn’t say anything. Then, he saw Boris’ eyes widening and scrambled to say, “Er, well… He’s not here. He went somewhere else. With Tulk, the butler. But I don’t know where they went exactly. We got separated in the midst of all the confusion… and I just ran.”

“Then, how are we going to find him?”

“Sir Tulk will contact us through magic.”

Boris simply nodded back. I see.

“Then, is it going to be just us two until we hear from him? Does that mean we can go home? Then… what’s happened to Uncle Vlado?”

“I don’t think we’ll be able to go home…” Yevgnen said. His voice trailed off at the end.

Boris nodded back knowingly. He had only been five the first time he had experienced just how truly frightening their uncle was. He had been playing in the front yard that day when Vlado had suddenly visited alone. Vlado had picked the young Boris up, carried the boy under arm, and walked up to the well. Their uncle had grinned while pretending to drop Boris in the well when their father had come to greet him.

Boris hadn’t been afraid at first. After all, Vlado had been smiling, and Boris had thought that they were simply playing a game. He had even been giggling along. Yet, their uncle hadn’t stopped playing that ‘game’ even as the dark well had started to frighten the young boy.

Boris didn’t remember how Yulkan had driven Vlado away later that day. All he remembered was that the two of them had discussed something complicated while standing on opposite sides of the well.

“Should we go to our great aunt’s?” Yevgnen proposed out of the blue. Boris blinked. They only had one great aunt, but Boris had never met her before. She was their father’s aunt, but she was no better than a distant stranger to Boris because she was not in the same political party as their father.

Did Yevgnen know her better?

“To Great Aunt Janine’s?”

“Yeah. She’ll probably be in Elmer. Senator Schmullen of the March Senate is the mayor there. It’ll take some time for us to get to Elmer, but it’s not too far away.”

“Will Great Aunt Janine be happy to see us?”

Yevgnen’s hair tickled his shoulders as he tilted his head from side to side. Then, he smiled bitterly and replied, “I can’t say for sure. But Father, he… We don’t really have anywhere else to go until he comes to find us. The March Senate isn’t a political rival to Father’s political party. Oh, and I guess we do have an alternative…”

“An alternative?”

Yevgnen shrugged while looking like he was talking about the most troublesome thing in the world as he replied, “Elector Katsya.”

“Oh.”

Boris didn’t have anything more to say. That was simply the extent of his thoughts regarding Elector Katsya, the nobleman whom their father served. Yevgnen had visited the elector a few times with their father. Boris, however, had never met the man and only perceived him as someone scary who made him uncomfortable. Besides, he had heard a lot of bad things about Elector Katsya as of late. It was unlikely that the elector would be very hospitable to the brothers now that things had come to this.

“Can’t we just not go anywhere?”

Yevgnen was taken aback. He hadn’t expected his little brother to suggest this.

“Why do you ask? Is it because you don’t think they’ll be happy to see us?”

“There’s that too, but… We could always just pretend to be commoners for a bit instead of asking strangers to take us in. Besides, didn’t you say that Father was going to come looking for us soon? We’d only have to wait until then, and…”

Yevgnen looked both depressed and frustrated as he looked down at his little brother. He wanted to avoid responding if he could. Alas, he could not.

“Living as a commoner isn’t as easy as you think it is, Boris. You and I have lived our whole lives in the manor, where the servants were always waiting on us. Neither of us are familiar with how commoners live. We also don’t have that much money. You’re probably too young to really get it, but it’s extremely hard to live as a commoner if you don’t have money.” Yevgnen smiled bitterly again before continuing, “Uncle Vlado occupied the manor. He won’t be able to come after us for a while because he probably has a lot of things to take care of first. But he’ll come after us eventually since we have the Winterbottom Kit. And he’s not even the only threat out there.”

Boris was listening to what his brother was saying, but he still didn’t fully comprehend the gravity of the situation. After all, he still had a trustworthy older brother to rely on. What reason did he have to be afraid? Besides, their father would come find them soon too.

“I’ll be okay. It’ll only be for a bit anyway. Father will scold me for not being worthy of the Jinneman name if I can’t put up with even that much,” Boris said while smiling sunnily. He wanted to reassure his brother. He didn’t want to cause his brother worry.

In the end, Yevgnen had no choice but to say, “I guess it might not even really matter where we end up going. Let’s head over to the nearest village for now. We can take some time before deciding what to do from there.”

It was just about dinnertime when they finally found the nearest village. The brothers took an inventory of their wealth along the way. For starters, they could not take Yevgnen’s armaments, the Winterbottom Kit, into account. After all, the Kit was something that they had to keep safe.

Next, were the gold coins inside the leather pouch the Yevgnen had prepared before escaping the manor. He had ten gold elso coins, which were worth 100 elso each, and thirty gold goblun coins, which was were worth 100 goblun each. A goblun was worth approximately half an elso. It wasn’t exactly a small sum of money. They should easily be able to live off it for at least a month even if they weren’t being frugal.

Finally, they also had some goods that they could pawn for money if necessary. Neither of them were wearing anything expensive, but Yevgnen was carrying a small hand mirror with a sapphire-inlaid cover. It was a keepsake from their mother.

Boris, on the other hand, had nothing. The only things he had found after rummaging through his pockets were two pieces of dried bread that his nanny had given him to eat since he would probably miss dinner. The brothers gnawed at the bread merrily as they entered the village.

They didn’t know what the village was called because neither of them were familiar with the geography. Though, to be honest, they honestly didn’t care all that much either. Boris was excited. This felt like the start of a new adventure.

The village was rather large. They had already travelled through the fields for some time before arriving at the village entrance, but the roads leading deeper inside seemed to stretch just as long. They gave the guards standing at the entrance to the village normal, commoner names—they did not disclose their house or station—as they made their way inside.

The only other time that Boris had ever seen such busy streets had been in Kaznan Village, a village in Longorde, on market day. It wasn’t market day today, but the streets were just as busy as the streets he remembered. All kinds of people lived here. Boris tried his best not to look around everywhere like a country bumpkin, but he couldn’t help that he failed miserably.

“Excuse me, where’s the nearest inn around these parts?”

A street peddler informed them that the inn was a two-story building with a tall roof. The entrance to the inn was crowded by travelling groups with multiple horses and people who had come to the village in carriages. Just getting inside the building was a battle. The brothers, who were sharing just one horse together, were the inn’s least impressive customers.

“Come on in!”

Boris was startled by the booming voice, but it had been directed not at him or Yevgnen but at the party of four men behind them. The party cut in front of the brothers and crowded around the counter while bickering amongst themselves before eventually ordering two rooms.

“Does it cost a lot of money to borrow a room for the night?” Boris asked Yevgnen.

Regrettably, Yevgnen didn’t really know either. He had travelled before, but he had always stayed at nicer inns, and he had always been accompanied by servants and attendants who had taken care of all the monetary matters for him. He had never been up to the counter himself. House Jinneman was traditionally a house of warriors. They viewed money as something dirty and rarely touched the stuff, which was nothing to say about actively bargaining down prices.

“One room, please.”

The waitress at the counter brought over one of the many keys hanging from the wall without quoting a price. Yevgnen grew hesitant. He was only carrying gold coins, and he was truly unfamiliar with handling money.

The waitress stared at his face with a strange look in her eyes. Yevgnen realized that she was wondering why he was taking so long to pay.

“How much will it be?”

“Ten elso,” the waitress said as her lips twitched into an awkward smile. Yevgnen handed her a gold goblun, which was worth about 50 elso. The waitress responded by saying, “Gosh, you’re carrying a lot of money for such a young man.”

Yevgnen took the change of silver coins the waitress handed back to him an turned around to walk away, only to be stopped by the giggling waitress.

“Aren’t you going to eat dinner? And what about breakfast tomorrow morning?”

Yevgnen stopped dead in his tracks. Then, he handed the waitress a few of the silver coins to pay for the meals.

“You’re not even going to order what you want?” the waitress asked just as Yevgnen was about to turn around again. She wasn’t even trying to hide her contempt this time.

Yevgnen and Boris had only ever eaten whatever the servants had prepared for them back at the manor. They had no idea what they were supposed to order at the inn. Yevgnen did his best to keep his face from flushing bright red as he replied, “We’ll be fine with anything so long as it’s edible.”

“Oh my. And here I thought you young gentlemen were going to be picky eaters.”

The other waitresses near the counter began giggling too. But not because they found the situation funny. They were sneering at the brothers openly. It irked Yevgnen a little, but he exercised restraint and made his way over to a table. It only took Boris one look at his brother’s face to understand what was going on. He, too, decided that it was for the best to just stay quiet for now.

It wasn’t long before their food was ready. Unfortunately, the food only served to make the situation worse.

“This should be ‘edible’ enough for you, right?” said another waitress as she placed a wide dish in front of the brothers. She was about Yevgnen’s age. Boris peered into the dish.

He thought it was soup or stew at first, but then he realized that something was squirming inside. He jumped back into his chair as he startled, making his chair screech against the floor. Several people began guffawing behind him.

Yevgnen was quiet as he peered into the dish too. Ten, twenty… Dozens of white maggots the size of his pinky were squirming inside the clear porridge. It was disgusting. The mere sight of it was enough to make him feel queasy.

“Oi, hurry up and dig in already. At least have a taste even if you aren’t hungry. We went out of our way to make you the house special, you know?”

“Guess you’re just not hungry, eh? But times are rough right now. You can’t just go around wasting food.”

“Looks like the young gentlemen don’t know how to eat. Want me to spoon-feed you?”

Boris looked up and saw that all the ruffians, who had been chatting amongst each other as they stood around the inn, were snickering at them. He couldn’t understand why they were laughing. Why was everyone being so mean to them? What had they done wrong? Did everyone have a grudge against them or something? But he was certain that they’d never even met before…

Yevgnen slowly got up from his seat. He did not draw Winterer. Instead, he glowered back at everyone who was sneering at them with his cerulean eyes. A few of the ruffians flinched when Yevgnen’s gaze landed on them, but most of them didn’t seem to care.

“Will someone kindly show us how we’re meant to eat this?” When he wasn’t returned a reply, Yevgnen continued, “By which I mean you should demonstrate it by eating a mouthful yourself.”

Silence fell. Eventually, someone broke it be snickering and saying, “I don’t think anyone’s hungry enough to take someone else’s food.”

It had happened in but an instant. Everyone doubted their own eyes for a moment. Yevgnen had grabbed the man who had spoken, dragged him over, and pinned him against the table in the blink of an eye.

“Kgh… The hell?!”

Calmly, Yevgnen said to him, “I’m inviting you to dine with us at our table. Please, help yourself and dig in.”

“Ugh…”

Yevgnen pressed down against the back of the man’s neck so that he couldn’t lift his head off the table and grabbed a spoon. His audience opened their eyes wide in shock. Then, Yevgnen plunged his spoon into the dish of maggots.

“Argh… No…”

The man hadn’t imagined even in his wildest dreams that Yevgnen, a slender young man with a pretty face, could be so strong. Yevgnen was only pinning him down with one hand, but he couldn’t escape no matter how hard he struggled. Yevgnen scooped up a spoonful of maggots and brought it toward the man’s mouth. There were three maggot wriggling in the spoon.

“H-have mercy! I was wrong! I was wrong, okay?!” the man yelled in a sudden show of servility.

Yevgnen bought the spoon all the way in front of the man’s lips. The man was sweating profusely as he clamped his mouth shut and continued shaking his head. He couldn’t move anything else. The maggots were wriggling right in front of his nose.

“Brother!” Boris yelled.

Yevgnen froze. Every last customer inside the inn had fallen deathly silent.

“Be grateful that I’m not iron-blooded enough to force maggots down someone’s throat,” Yevgnen said as he put the spoon back down. He was not the kind of person who would have gone through with his threat even if Boris hadn’t called out to him. Nor did he intend to put on airs to hide that fact.

The man staggered away as soon as he was freed from Yevgnen’s grasp. He looked furious as he rubbed the back of his neck while exchanging quick glances with a few different people. The people he exchanged looks with nodded back, and then the situation quickly turned on its head.

“Get them!”

Six or seven men jumped over the tables and charged straight for the brothers. Yevgnen was taken aback by the sudden situation and quickly tried to shield his little brother, but he was a bit slow to react. He would have been able to control the situation immediately if he had drawn his sword instead, but now he would have to slay several people to achieve the same effect.

Yevgnen picked up his chair and swung it at the first man who approached him, and then he threw it at the second. Both men collapsed. Unfortunately, he wasn’t strong enough to fend off the rest. Three men came flying at him from behind. One of them struck him squarely on the waist.

But Yevgnen made no noise. Boris ran up to his older brother and clung to him. The men pushed the brothers to the floor and began kicking and stomping on them.

“Be grateful? Bullshit!”

“Tch. Would you look at the mouth on this nobody?”

“The son of a bitch needs to get his mug messed up before he finally gets it!”

Yevgnen shielded Boris with his body and took most of the beating alone. The parts of him that were being protected by Snowguard were fine, but the rest on him was not. His clothes were ripped up. The men’s boots also tore his flesh and drew blood.

The man that Yevgnen had forgiven earlier was the most violent. He was smiling hideously—was the kicking not enough to quell his rage?—as he shouted, “Serves you right! What was that about inviting me to eat again? Sure, then. Why don’t you show everyone just how hospitable you really are and throw us a grand old feast or something?!”

The man then lifted Yevgnen up by the collar. His crew ran over and held Yevgnen up while bending his arms behind his back. Then, one of the other man picked Boris up, carried the boy under his arm, and pushed him down over the table.

The blood drained from Boris’ face when he saw yet another man picking up a spoon.

“One big spoonful… Gotta give you a nice, big serving, right?”

The man dipped the spoon into the dish. Seven maggots were wriggling on top of it when he scooped it back out. Yellowish porridge and a couple of maggots fell off the side of the spoon.

The man brought the spoon closer to Boris’ mouth. Boris struggled for all he was worth, but to no avail. The man who was holding him down was strong. He couldn’t even say no. He knew that the other man would shove the bug-infested spoon down his throat as soon as he opened his mouth.

Yevgnen shook off one of the men who were holding his arms and screamed, “Leave my brother alone! What the hell do you think you’re doing to such a young child?!”

Curiously, one of the men who had been holding his arm asked, “Are you gonna eat it for him, then?”

All the men stopped and turned to stare at Yevgnen as if he was some kind of circus animal. They watched as the young man’s brows furrowed from pain and as he bit his lip and looked back at his little brother. The men hadn’t seriously intended to make Yevgnen eat the maggots in Boris’ stead. They had only wanted to watch him squirm at the thought of having to make a choice.

Yevgnen, in the meanwhile, was tormented by an agony that the depraved lowlifes could never hope to comprehend. There was only one ray of hope left to him now. And there was only very little he could do for his sake anymore.

And so, Yevgnen calmly spat out, “Fine. Bring it here.”

“Wait… what?”

The inn fell silent. The men exchanged looks as they wondered if they had heard correctly. ‘Is this guy for real?’ they all thought.

A moment later, one of the men said, “Tch. Let’s drop it. I’ve always hated bastards like him.”

“You just killed the mood. Shit, we were only fucking around.”

The rest of them appeared to share the sentiment. Except for one, that is. It was the man whom Yevgnen had forgiven. His name was Guth.

“Wait, you’re all just gonna let the bastard go? You’re gonna make a laughingstock out of all of us! Finish what you started!”

Guth stomped over to his colleague who was still holding the spoon and snatched it from him. Then, he scooped up a fresh spoonful of maggots. He walked over to Yevgnen and glared at the young man with malice in his eyes. His gang was always harassing unfamiliar faces to the area and had made the harassment their pastime. However, he especially despised people like Yevgnen—his pretty face, his polite speech, his handsome outfit, and his wealth…

Was the young man a noble or something? Guth believed that nobles should just stay holed up in their manors and keep quiet. What reason did a noble have for coming all the way to this grimy inn?

What he loathed most, however, was the calmness in Yevgnen’s eyes. The young man’s eyes seemed to be saying, ‘I’m already familiar with how people like you act. People of your stock don’t know any better.’ Guth hated the composure in Yevgnen’s mien. Guth and his peers were always seeking for bastards like Yevgnen to be shocked and fall into despair before sinking down in resignation.

“Well? Open wide.”

Yevgnen didn’t respond.

“What? Are you gonna change your mind?”

Still, Yevgnen didn’t respond.

“Then I guess I’ll just have to give it to your brother.”

Yevgnen spoke up the moment that Guth turned around with much gusto. Despite Guth’s hopes, however, Yevgnen’s voice remained unshaken as he said, “Enough.”

This fucking annoying asshole.

Guth reached out abruptly and grabbed Yevgnen’s chin with his left hand. He forced the young man’s mouth open and crammed the spoon inside.

“Hnngh…”

Even Guth himself had to look away for a moment. He only looked at Yevgnen after he had pulled the spoon back only to be shocked speechless by what he saw.

Yevgnen’s jaw was moving as he slowly chewed what was inside his mouth. Then, with a small sneer, he swallowed. Cleanly.

“W-what… What in the…?”

The man who had still been holding Yevgnen’s arm loosened his grip in alarm. Yevgnen could have shaken him off and spat out the maggots if he had so wished. Yet, he had not.

Slowly, Yevgnen pulled his arm free and walked up to Guth one step at a time. Guth saw him reach for the sword hanging at his waist. Frigidly, Yevgnen said, “I formally challenge you to a duel. I am Yevgnen Jinneman, the firstborn son of Yulkan Jinneman, the Lord of Longorde. State your name.”

No one dared to lay another finger on Yevgnen. The men anxiously stole glances at the sword at Yevgnen’s waist. It was no run-of-the-mill blade. The scabbard was simple and undecorated, but it seemed to be shining faintly white in a way that they couldn’t quite explain.

More importantly, however, he was allegedly the son of a lord! That spelled trouble for Guth regardless of whether he won or lost!

Guth shuffled backward with replying. Everyone in the inn was staring at him. Unlike Yevgnen, who was a traveler, Guth was the village gangster. He would lose face if he submitted to Yevgnen now. Not only would he get kicked out of his gang, but he’d also become the laughingstock of town. He would lose his place amongst the villagers.

“I’m Guth… Filone.”

Yevgnen didn’t react. Instead, he shot a glance at the man who was still holding Boris up. That was all it took to make the man put his little brother down. Yevgnen beckoned Boris to come closer and kept him close.

“Naturally, I am going to kill you,” Yevgnen said as if he was simply commenting on the weather. The blood drained from Guth’s face. Yevgnen continued, “There is only one way for you to make me change my mind, and that is for you to concede defeat and prostrate yourself before I kill you during our duel. I’ll allow you keep your life if you do. But in return…”

Then, he pointed at the dish sitting on the table with his left hand and finished, “I will feed you every last drop of what’s left inside that dish. I swear this on my house’s name.”

There was no way for Guth to get out of this. His breathing grew ragged as he looked to his colleagues for help, but they all avoided his gaze.

Yevgnen turned to the arrogant waitress at the counter and asked, “May we use the backyard?”

Yevgnen was an amateur when it came to travelling. He had very obviously not known what he was doing as he asked for a room and paid for it. But things were different now. He had learned the art of swordplay and dueling ever since he was a child. This was his way of life. There wasn’t a drop of hesitation in him now that he had sworn upon his house’s name.

The waitress seemed to have lost her sharp tongue. All she could do was nod back in silence.

Yevgnen scanned the inn until he spotted a group of merchants who seemed to have nothing to do with Guth and his gang. He walked up to them and asked them to serve as witnesses. They didn’t decline, for they had also succumbed to Yevgnen’s sheer force of will. According to Travachess custom, killing someone during a duel was not a crime as long as two people had witnessed the duel—one person for each side.

Then, Yevgnen made his way outside with Boris and the witnesses in tow. A crowd of curious onlookers followed after them. It took some time before Guth and his crew also stepped outside. They did not dare run away.