If I had thought more highly of money and kept some with me, could I have exchanged it for the local currency and bought my way back home?
It was already too late to think about these things. In such a stressful situation, Surumi didn’t have that much brain power to waste.
If that Monster keeps her word, I’ll be paid at the end of the month. It seems like the amount will be enough to buy my way home. In that case, for the next forty-four days, she will be doing her best either to make me want to stay or to otherwise bind me here. I cannot assume any of our interactions are sincere.
Surumi went over his first impressions of the female Orc Lord. She had a good enough moral disposition to ban slave raiding, and she had a reputation for valuing intelligence. She frequently compared herself to the descendant rulers, and she was able to keep order in a city where multiple races lived, meaning her cultural sensitivity was quite high. Though, she might be the type to throw away traditions which were inefficient in favor of better techniques. That would have to be monitored carefully.
Given her statement on ignorance, she values ability over opportunity. She might not be able to reconcile with a noble’s way of thinking. Rather, she might be directly opposed to hereditary titles. The dwarven empire’s governing style is probably the closest to hers, so I’ll use that as a reference when I’m teaching her.
Without him realizing it, Surumi’s brain had shifted gears to teacher mode, but he had a new student, so what else was there for him to think about? He even went so far as to pick out useful textbooks from memory, only to realize he wouldn’t have access to them here.
I’ll have to limit the list to only the books I have memorized and start again.
There was a knock at the door, and a rumble from the Beastman’s stomach reminded him what time it was.
The same High Orc as before smiled when Surumi opened the door. The Beastman held the door half open and hid his face behind his fan.
“Pardon me, but are there no other servants in this palace?”
“There is a reason only I’ve been sent,” Nerun said mysteriously. “Shall I explain it on the way to dinner? It’s probably important that you know.”
Surumi followed closely while the Orc Lord’s assistant explained that Beast People weren’t well-liked by Orcs and why. He was shocked to hear about it, but he had a few guesses that made the story much more plausible. He understood now why he had received such hostile looks from some of the Orcs when he was dragged across the city.
“Do you think that will become an issue with my living here?”
Nerun smiled. “Who knows? Lord Vyra’s mother was attacked at that time, though she survived. Her father’s mother was attacked and killed, and her sworn sister’s mother died as well. She’s lost quite a lot of family to your kinsmen, but she herself hadn’t been born yet, so she doesn’t have any personal memories of that time.”
“Excuse me, but you said that this happened just this past winter. What do you mean she hadn’t been born yet?”
Nerun looked over his shoulder and chuckled. “Brace yourself, Lord Scholar. My Lord is one-hundred thirty-six days old today.”
Surumi almost laughed. He carefully hid his smile behind his fan. “Are you telling me the giantess I was just drafting local policies with is only two months of age?”
“It’s true. Considering the new mothers haven’t given birth yet and Lord Vyra was conceived outside of mating season, she is the youngest Orc that currently exists.”
They kept walking for a while longer and nothing else was said on the matter.
Wait, is he serious?
“We’ve arrived, Lord Scholar. Regarding dining etiquette, please just do as everyone else is doing.”
Nerun pushed open a pair of stone doors and directly went to join the meal. The room didn’t have a single window to the outside, as it was practically in the heart of the palace. The light of many fires dyed it orange. A large, low, circular table took up much of the floor space and was piled high with food. Each Monster at the table was seated on a simple cushion with their legs crossed.
“Ah, you made it. Everyone, this is the Beastman I was telling you about: my new teacher.”
Surumi’s vision snapped to the largest person at the table as she introduced him. His attention shifted to the fire-red Orc woman sitting to her right when she spoke up. “Baby has been saying some nice things about you. Would it be fine for me to sit in on a lesson every now and then?”
Surumi folded his fan, “As long as you aren’t a disruption, that should be fine.” He stared, “What is your relation to my Lord?”
“Oh, forgive me.” The red Orc put a hand to her cheek and smiled. “My name is Oolga. I’m Vyra’s mother.”
The one who survived a Beast Person attack.
“Take a seat, Surumi,” Vyra gestured. “I’ll introduce you to everyone.”
Surumi saw two cushions left empty: one to Vyra’s left, and the other between that and Nerun. He decided to leave that little extra distance between himself and the giantess and sat beside her assistant. He unfolded his fan and only allowed his eyes to show over the top.
The Orc Lord just smiled and went on with the introductions. “You’ve already met momma,” she started. “Next to her is my father, Rigdam.” She pointed to a regular (if slightly large) Orc, then to an ordinary (if slightly large) Orc woman. “And this is his sister, my aunt Nira.”
These two lost their mother to my kin.
“Beside her is my momma’s firstborn, my brother, Varoon.” She pointed to a somewhat small, but very burly War Orc with short, blonde hair, and then to an ordinary Oni woman. “And this is his reserved mate, Irsha. You already know Nerun, my personal assistant.”
“Someone seems to be missing,” Surumi mentioned, glancing at the empty cushion.
“Yes, well—” As if on queue, the doors opened again and a woman trotted inside, taking a seat right beside Surumi and putting her hand on her chest to calm her breathing.
“I’m so sorry I’m late! I was trying to—”
“We all know why you’re late,” Vyra’s brother muttered. “There’s only ever the one reason.”
The woman blushed and fidgeted. “Y-yes. I’m sorry.”
Vyra smiled. “Well, now I can introduce you two. Surumi, this is my sworn blood sister, Fiara. She’s also the driving force behind all of our magic engineering technology.”
Blood sister? Surumi hid his expression carefully behind his fan. Meanwhile, the Orc Lord addressed the woman, who was staring at Surumi in bewilderment, having apparently just noticed him.
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
“Fiara, this is Ye Surumi, a recognized Master Scholar, and my new teacher.”
“Oh, um, nice to meet you,” Fiara bowed her head. She was another Orc variant Surumi hadn’t seen before. She looked like a blue High Orc, with a slightly smaller body and pointed ears that grew out parallel to the ground. There was a small yellow dot in the center of her forehead. She looked half-starved and dead tired, but still cheerful. “Please teach me as well if you have the time.”
This one also lost her mother to a Beast Person attack. “I should ask the same. I saw one of those tablets, and I am very curious to know how you made it.”
With the introductions over, everyone simply ignored him and went back to eating. Surumi looked around to get a sense of the local etiquette. Each person seemed to get two bowls: a larger one which they periodically filled with food from the middle of the table, and a smaller one which they drank out of. The food was essentially roughly cut meat and vegetables that had been roasted over a fire, and it was eaten by hand.
Surumi put away his fan and lifted his bowl-shaped cup, sniffing it. He had suspected alcohol, but the clear liquid was really just water. He took a small sip and noted the clean purity of the substance. Magically produced, huh? I won’t be getting any parasites, then.
Even though he was starving, it still felt strange to eat food with his bare hands. He noted that the way the food was cooked was just about the simplest way it could be cooked, and it was even charred in some places. He could taste salt on some of the meat, but that was all as far as seasonings went. It was a meal he would expect of a poor farmer, not of the leader of a nation. All he could really say in its favor was that it filled his empty stomach.
After the food was gone, tea made from mint leaves was served to everyone. Surumi drank it and was forced to ask about a place to relieve himself. Nerun got up to show him to the “bathroom,” which had no bath in it. In stark contrast to the primitive meal he’d just eaten, the facilities there were highly advanced. He had to be taught how to use the toilet and sink, and he didn’t know what manner of magic they employed to make his hands smell so clean without using soap. His only complaint was that the weak, fibrous cloth he was meant to wipe himself off with was somewhat rough.
“What was that lever for?” Surumi asked after he was done. Before using the toilet, he had been instructed to pull a lever so that it was set to “non-Orc.” Nerun had helped him with this as he couldn’t read the local language yet.
“To separate the excrements of Orcs and other creatures,” the assistant answered in a way that explained nothing.
Surumi would continue to see things that were difficult to understand, or even downright bizarre, as he continued to live in Babylon. But these first oddies, he simply brushed off.
***
Marilyn walked under the gazes of countless portraits with her head held high. Her boots traversed the cold stone floor. They were as hard as her heart.
The little silver Wyvern on her shoulder cooed and rubbed its scales against her face. She stroked it tenderly and faced her eyes forward.
Soon, the hard stone transformed into a lush carpet, and more life abounded. Maids scurried in and out of rooms, and servant boys carried racks and trays to who knows where. Occasionally, statesmen walked by in soft but vibrant robes, chatting and whispering only with each other. Sometimes, Knights like herself would pass by in gleaming armor.
Marilyn repeatedly took deep breaths to calm herself.
She arrived at the heart of the palace, where a pair of massive wooden doors barred her path. Carved into the wood were heroic images of men driving back monsters and demons, while the king commanded them bravely under the light of the Gods.
She averted her eyes and bowed wordlessly to the Knights guarding the doors. The two strong men shared a look, and one shrugged.
“The king is expecting you.”
“I am ready to present myself.”
Each knight took a door handle and pulled on it, and natural light poured over Marilyn’s face. She saw her king at the back of the room, seated upon an ornate throne. Despite being larger than necessary, the king’s seat was positively dwarfed by the massive windows behind it. Every single pane of glass in those windows was made by hand. The collection was worth more than her family manor.
Marilyn pointed at the ground. The little Wyvern lowered its wings and ears and crawled down Marilyn’s arm, jumping off at her wrist and half-sinking into the crimson carpet. The two walked forward together and dropped to one knee (or the Wyvern equivalent) just within speaking range.
A moment of silence extended.
“Lady Sartiella,” a deep, heavy voice droned. “It’s good to see you again.”
“The pleasure is mine, my Lord.”
“Raise your head.”
She did so. Her king’s warm and stern face entered her sight. He still had a head of thick gold hair and a strong body. The two young men to his left were lively and promising. This was a peaceful and prosperous country.
A bead of sweat slid down the girl’s back.
“We were expecting you a week ago. What happened?”
“Yes, my Lord,” she bowed her head again, but the king raised his hand and she lifted it. “I accompanied two of my sisters on an expedition into the Black Mountain Forest, and it didn’t go as expected.”
“That matter delayed you?”
“Yes, my Lord. In light of those events, I bring news which is to be seen by you and you alone. I’m afraid the contents are urgent.”
The king raised one eyebrow. “Very well.” He waved one hand and the two princes made bitter faces while leaving the room. Even the statesmen and the guards left, though there were certainly shadow guards hiding somewhere. That much could not be helped.
Marilyn slowly walked forward, until she reached the foot of the throne, and knelt down again. She pulled out a roll of paper from the folds of her clothes and held it out with both hands. King Andorin accepted it, unfurling the roll with an inquisitive but serious expression.
His eyes gradually widened, then narrowed suddenly, and he started reading again from the beginning. After looking the contents over thrice, he held his head in his hand. “Marilyn,” the king dropped all pretenses, “what did I just read?”
“A proposed trade agreement between Andorin Kingdom and the Living City Babylon, sent by one Lord Vyra,” she responded flatly, “my Lord.”
The king sighed. “You know I cannot accept this. Even sending a response would be,” the king pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing, “simply impossible. Marilyn, you met this “Lord” directly and agreed to deliver this?”
“Naturally, there is a reason, my Lord.”
“I should like to hear it.”
She took a deep breath and revealed her hand. “She returned my brother to me, when even the gods would have said him to be lost. I think you would happily have her owe you a favor, my Lord.”
For a moment, the shocking revelation had him wavering, but the king soon leaned back in his throne. “Even so, I can’t see any way to accept. The logistics alone of leading supply shipments through the Black Mountain Forest are appalling, not to mention all the eyebrows that kind of activity would raise.”
For a moment, the king sunk into thought, then he waved his hand. “Be off. I need to consider this matter carefully.”
Marilyn slowly stood and left the throne room. As soon as she was gone, a voice echoed down from above, “I’m afraid your options are more limited than you think.”
What was probably a man dropped down from the high ceiling, despite there apparently being no place to hide up there.
“What do you mean by that?” The King wasn’t surprised at all that the person had been listening in, but he did seem a little addled at the fact that he had shown himself.
“I mean that you’ll have to go to war if you refuse this offer.” The king leaned forward in his throne, but the person continued without being asked. “Certain people in the church and the Ranger’s Guild have been aware of her for some time already, to varying extents. The guild has taken a neutral approach, but the church has opted to be hostile. So, if you don’t welcome this new “Lord,” the initiative will shift to them.”
“But it will mean war even if I accept,” the king agonized over his options.
“She knows. Take another look at that trade proposal, and I think you’ll understand.”
King Andorin unfurled the paper again and glanced down. The key line in question was [The products to be exchanged are: seasonings from Andorin Kingdom (including molasses, vanilla, honey, and cinnamon); raw metals from the Living City Babylon (including orichalcum, adamantium, angelite, and neofite).]
“She’s arming us?!” he suddenly realized how they were expected to use those raw metals.
The strange person’s face was covered, but he might have smiled. “Personally, I don’t want to fight against another nation that accepted this deal, or the city able to offer it.”
The king held his chin, “But weapons alone aren’t enough. There will be civil discord if I accept this proposal. I can’t just quiet the church with blades.”
“Yes, I’m not saying there aren’t serious risks with accepting. I’d like us to have a better understanding of this new city’s situation and strength first, so for now let’s just keep an open dialogue with them.”
“Won’t the church take that to mean I’ve accepted their proposal?”
The strange person probably smiled under his mask. “If I deliver your response personally, they’ll never find out about it, right?”
The king’s expression grew tense. “I’ll feel ill at ease if you’re not here in the castle.”
The shadow shrugged. “Just hear me out, alright? I thought it all through.”
Nearly an hour passed, but nobody was allowed back into the throne room. Finally, the doors opened and Marilyn was called back inside. She was prepared to give up her life, but was shocked when she received a promotion instead. Still, through her bewilderment, she was glad that things appeared to have worked out.
She sighed internally and reached her thoughts out to her Monster benefactor. I did my part.