WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: HidingTurtle

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◈ The Wandering Knight and the Moving Castle ◈

Chapter 7: The One Who Understands Three Worlds (7)

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The last day before Eugene came of age.

“You’re here again!”

“You keep coming back without getting tired of it.”

Grrrgle.

Before the girl could finish her displeased response, her empty stomach answered first.

“Are you still going to be stubborn? Aren’t you hungry?”

“I have no need for it.”

Having been brought food several times, the mother and daughter seemed to have learned. They knelt and waited before the bars.

Perhaps they had regained their physical and mental composure, returning to their usual bearing. Their posture was neat and composed. It did not feel like the surrender of the weak, but refined, formal kneeling.

“Do you usually attend to that young lady like this?”

“Yes, my lord,” Lara said.

You could tell a master’s standing by the attitude of those who served them. If even a maid normally served with such respect, it could not be a minor house.

“You must be hungry. Dig in.”

Lara politely accepted the food.

“Thank you, Sir Knight,” Lani said with a smile.

“Did I say I was a knight?”

“You’re not a priest, and you look strong, but you’re kind. Doesn’t that make you a knight?”

“Oh.”

It was simple, but it was a three-part syllogism.

“I am a knight.”

“My lord, my child is still young...”

“She didn’t say anything wrong. Why are you so worried?”

Eugene reassured the needlessly tense Lara, then stepped back.

When they unwrapped the clean leaf wrapping, a fragrant, slightly sharp scent wafted out.

“Wow!”

Lani let out a cry of delight.

“Today’s a special meal.”

He had cut a long slit down the middle of a freshly baked oval loaf. Inside, he had tucked goat cheese, vegetables, and roasted rabbit meat.

The sauce was ketchup. He had made it by simmering tomatoes, rock salt, button mushrooms, honey, and vinegar. It was a rough imitation, but the sweet and tangy flavor was enough to call it ketchup.

“It’s so, so delicious, Sir Knight!”

Lani gave her happy review, while Lara quietly chewed as she watched her mistress’s mood. Still, Lara’s face was bright as well.

“I’ve never seen food like this. What is it called?”

The girl seemed rather interested too.

“A hot dog. Though I altered it to suit the circumstances here.”

“I’ve never heard of such a dish.”

“Want to try it? I made one for you too.”

“No.”

“You’re incredibly stubborn.”

“It is not stubbornness. It is pride.”

“Well, I can see your resolve is impressive.”

If Eugene had been in her position, he would have accepted the food without hesitation.

“I wasn’t expecting much anyway. I brought something else instead.”

Eugene rose from his chair and stood before the iron bars.

“My lord, if there is something you wish to give my lady, please allow me to...”

“I understand how you feel, but I need to give this to her myself. Step back.”

“Yes.”

Lara obediently lowered her head and moved away.

“You say you’ll give it to me yourself. Do you have the key?”

“Of course not. You’re a valuable prisoner meant for an important event soon. Do you think they’d give a key to someone who comes down here to clean?”

“Then forget it. Nothing you take out will shake my resolve. I will not go to you of my own accord.”

As always, the girl had her back against the wall, far from the bars.

“Being captured by the dogs of the Church of the Absolute is humiliating enough. I would rather starve to death than survive on your pity.”

“Then what does that make those two?”

“Lara and her daughter are excellent servants. Their duties are simply different from mine. I did not insult them.”

At those words, the mother and daughter bowed respectfully.

Priests, knights, nobles.

Each had their own firm system of logic, and they did not doubt for a moment that what they believed was right.

“We’ll see about that.”

Eugene grabbed the two iron bars directly in front of him. The gap between them was wide, but the bars themselves were thick.

“What are you...?”

For the first time, shock crossed the face of the girl who had remained cold the entire time.

Kiiiing.

The thick iron bars bent easily and pressed against the bars beside them.

Lara hugged her daughter, staring in disbelief.

Having displayed his monstrous strength, Eugene calmly pushed his upper body into the gap.

Thud!

“Well. I can’t fit.”

Even though he had spread apart two bars, his broad body got stuck.

He stepped back and gripped the two pairs of bars that had been pressed together. His hands were as large as his frame, easily grasping two bars at once.

Kiiiiing!

As he applied force, all four bars were pushed aside.

Ping!

He stopped when he saw a metal pin fixed to the ceiling pop loose. The opening was already wide enough.

“Oh, Progenitor.”

Lara closed her eyes and murmured as Eugene entered through the gap.

“You believe in gods too?”

“Pardon?”

Lara asked blankly, then flinched.

“Oh, yes! We do believe! But the Progenitor is not a god. The Progenitor is our great ancestor, one who stands beside the gods.”

Lara’s already respectful attitude became even more cautious.

Held in her mother’s arms, Lani looked up at him with sparkling eyes, as though she were seeing one of the mythical heroes her grandmother had told her about.

Eugene stopped before the girl, dropped to one knee, and took a cup from his clothes.

“If you intend to tempt me with wine, give up.”

“I was thinking of offering you blood. I thought that might interest you.”

“Are you serious?”

The girl looked at Eugene with wavering eyes.

“You would give me your blood?”

The excitement in her voice made it seem as though her coldness until now had been a lie.

“Why? Do you want to drink it?”

“To refuse the blood of a knight as strong and merciful as you would not be noble pride. It would be foolishness.”

Apparently, what moved this noble girl’s heart was not kindness, but a display of monstrous strength.

“Sorry, but I have no intention of doing that.”

The girl’s disappointment was obvious.

Gopri had told him that exceptional vampires could even use magic through bloodsucking.

Even if she was only a Dhampir, she was still a noble. There was no telling what trouble might arise if he gave her his blood.

“Then whose blood are you offering?”

“How about this?”

Eugene pulled a field mouse from inside his clothes. Homi had caught it in a trap, and it was plump enough to have plenty of blood.

“...”

The girl’s face, which had just shown him goodwill, froze stiff.

“It isn’t a dead mouse. It’s fresh, just put to sleep with medicine. I washed it clean too, so it won’t stink.”

“Are you trying to insult me? How dare you present a filthy creature that crawls through gutters to a noble of my standing!”

Despite starving for so long, her voice rang through the room with surprising strength.

“Calm down. I’m not planning to give it to you like this.”

Vegetables had to be sliced and dressed into a salad before they became a proper dish. If he simply threw someone raw vegetables, that would naturally be insulting.

He had never intended to make her suck the field mouse’s blood directly.

Yet the enraged girl did not answer. It seemed the goodwill he had worked so hard to build had vanished in a single blow.

Eugene took a dagger from his clothes. It was a ceremonial tool used to offer young lambs during monastery feast days.

Flash.

A streak of light cut through the dark underground prison. The field mouse’s head fell away, and fresh blood poured out.

“Oh!”

Lara, who had often cut meat in the kitchen, was amazed by the clean cross-section. It was not easy to cleanly sever something so small and soft while holding it in one hand.

Trickle.

A red spring filled the cup.

The girl’s anger rose again as she watched the upside-down mouse’s feet twitch.

“The value of cooking depends on skill and care as much as the ingredients. Even common fish and eggs can become ten or a hundred times more valuable in the hands of a master.”

Eugene remembered the omakase meals that had been popular in Korea. He had heard that in China, there was even an exquisite dish made by simmering a chicken for nearly a month.

“What nonsense is that? Fish is fish, and eggs are eggs. The quality of a dish is determined by its ingredients!”

The girl spoke angrily.

“Well, perhaps that is true here.”

This world’s food culture lagged far behind Earth’s.

“I’ll say it again, I have no intention of insulting you. A mouse was the only creature I could capture alive on short notice that had plenty of blood and was small enough to hide and bring here.”

The girl sharply turned her head away. That excuse did not seem enough to calm her anger.

Once he had collected all the blood, Eugene held the cup with both hands. He made the Witch’s power, his mother’s legacy flowing through his veins, surge.

“The world beyond is full of mysteries. It is a dreadful place that cannot be reached while preserving the human body and mind.”

He recalled the words he had heard before bed as a child.

Ordinary mothers sang lullabies or told fairy tales to their young children, but Eugene’s mother had been a Witch. She whispered secrets and mysterious knowledge to him.

“Fear it, but do not avoid it. Revere it, but keep your distance. Then the Otherworld will reward us with its mysteries. That is why we can see more freely and deeply than the servants of a narrow-minded god.”

But had Eugene’s mother known?

That her son was a soul that had pushed through the deepest reaches of that dreadful, mysterious place.

The great Witch who had cured even leprosy.

The saint said to have spoken directly with gods.

The legendary mage who had raised an oasis in the desert.

He had observed the Otherworld more clearly than any of them.

Eugene remembered the abbot blessing water and turning it into holy water.

Now he copied that act, filling it with another will instead of reverence for a god.

“In nomine. Patris.”

Those few words changed everything in the room.

The girl, who had turned away in humiliation, widened her eyes and looked at Eugene.

“Et Filii. Et Spiritus.”

With every movement of his lips, the stench of the underground prison was driven away, like evil spirits before the radiance of a god.

“Sancti. Amen.”

The cold noble girl showed surprise for the third time that day.

First, there had been awe at Eugene’s prodigious strength.

Then, rage at the field mouse he had produced.

“In nomine. Infernum.”

Now, it was rapture at the scent flowing from the cup.

“Et amissa animabus.”

An indescribable power dwelled in the blood inside the cup Eugene held as he prayed.

It was not like the grace of a god shown by renowned bishops. It was far thicker, darker, and sweeter.

Wriggle.

A worm the size of a little fingernail crawled out of the cup.

Wriggle, wriggle.

A second and third worm crawled out and fell to the ground. Parasites in the field mouse’s blood had been swept up in the dark blessing.

Evil had entered the tiny parasites, remaking them as monsters.

As though honored by Eugene chanting a dark liturgy, the worms fled into the foul drainage channel.

They had no eyes, noses, mouths, or anuses. They were creatures that should never have existed in the first place. Even if left alone, they would not be able to harm the world and would starve to death.

Gulp.

The girl could not take her eyes off the cup in Eugene’s hand.

Purified by the dark benediction, it tempted her like blood spilled by a god. Its aroma seemed intoxicating enough to soak through her nostrils, lungs, brain, and even her soul.

“Drink it while it’s fresh.”

Eugene offered her the cup.

‘Can I truly accept something this precious?’

Unable to imagine taking it with her dirty hands, the girl only leaned her face forward.

“Haaah.”

Her dried lips parted, revealing white fangs. A long red tongue slipped between them.

She was far too seductive for a girl in her late teens. She truly was a noble of the night.

Drip.

Eugene delicately tipped the cup, and a single drop fell onto the tip of her tongue.

Her hollow eyes trembled, and her nostrils flared adorably. Her small, darkened bare feet curled tight.

When Eugene held the cup against her chest, she received it as though it were a sacred relic. The contempt she had shown toward the blood of a lesser creature had long since vanished.

Gulp, gulp.

She drank it carefully, as though she could not afford to spill a single drop.

Including the sleeping medicine mixed into it.

‘It worked.’

When he looked to the side, the mother and daughter were sleeping peacefully together. The hot dogs they had eaten had contained sleeping medicine too.

Today was the day he would infiltrate the Sealing Vault. To remove even minor interference, he needed all three women asleep.

Clatter!

The cup fell behind him. The girl, sitting back with a dazed expression, closed her eyes and slowly toppled onto her side.

Hunger made it easy to fall asleep. In her severely starved state, the sleeping medicine and exquisite blood had made her lose consciousness at once.

Eugene left the prison, returned the iron bars to their original position, and opened the secret passage in the corner of the basement.

‘Once I loot the Sealing Vault, there will be no turning back. I will never be able to return to this village.’

But he had already made his decision. Eugene entered without hesitation.

* * *

Meanwhile, Homi spotted something strange from atop an oak tree. Something was writhing on the eastern horizon beyond the village.

Hop!

Homi immediately jumped down from the tree.

The moment one left civilization in this age, countless dangers awaited. At the lesser end were wild dogs and wolves, then monsters of all sizes, bandits, deserters, and even bandit knights.

Even merchants who traveled with mercenaries avoided moving at night, so there was no reason for an ordinary person to be wandering around after dark.

Homi immediately recalled the Dhampir prisoners Eugene had mentioned. Heeding the warning of instinct, Homi raced to the hut.

Homi gathered Eugene’s sword, the money they had saved, and a bundle of medical supplies containing hemostatic medicine, bandages, and painkilling powder.

There was much more Homi wanted to bring, but reaching Eugene’s side at once came first.

Homi climbed the oak tree again to observe. This time, Homi could see the people approaching the village clearly enough.

A well-armed group of cavalry was galloping toward the village.

Footnotes:

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