“Four shots—and with it, history changed. A fair Virtus noblewoman in a steel mount, and a Vanus knight in gray, both claiming to hail from a distant land, killed the demon with utmost efficiency and accuracy. The continent had not seen such a show of force with mere weapons of technology.”
- Account from the Battle of Belancon Hill, 1538.
+++
+++ Lieutenant Hans Hoffman +++
Belancon Hill
JUN 27, 1538 CE
“...So it’s a he,” Hans muttered. Much of the common soldiery had already returned home, outside of Hans, Captain Strobel, Adelyn, and of course—Father Olbrich. It was already afternoon, with the cleanup of the battlefield taking a few hours.
The only real good news, however, was that all of the undead suddenly died. All of the infested towns were now filled with corpses and unmoving bodies. Almost as if the disease really was more magical in nature than anything.
And without the puppeteer…there were no puppets.
Father Olbrich finished his solemn prayer. “May he rest well. The gods know, he suffered enough as it is….”
“So that’s him?” Adelyn asked.
“Yeah,” Captain Strobel shook his head with despair. “The rumors…it’s damned true. People are turning into these things. Father Courbet…he…why would someone who hated diseases to the heart spread such a thing in that fashion?”
“The company failed him,” Father Olbrich muttered. “Any man would snap at such a thing. Perhaps, he lost faith in the idea of medicine. The death of one’s mother when he was one of the finest practitioners of medicine and healing magic…I knew it would be too much for him.”
“So that’s that then?” Adelyn muttered. “Daniel Specke’s hypothesis could be true?”
“Misery of the mind,” Hans shook his head. “Goddamnit…”
“Nothing is set in stone yet,” Father Olbrich answered. “It’s all just theorizing. For all we know, he had only suffered enough that his soul was weakened for demonic influences to take control.”
“...He’s one of the few good Vanus I knew,” Captain Strobel kneeled down and removed his hat to pay respect. “Rest well, old man.”
Shakingly, Father Olbrich stood up and looked back at Hans and Adelyn.
“I have nothing but words of thanks to the both of you,” Father Olbrich said. “You’re both heroes of the day.”
With that, Adelyn suddenly awkwardly chuckled. “Ehe…that’s quite the tall credit, Father. I believe all of us participated in the battle. I only fired a shot.”
“And all I did was run and fire three shots,” Hans smiled. “Father, this is the work of the 4th Holy Ygeia Regiment. They stopped the Rodent of Pestilence well.”
“You can both say whatever you want. But tomorrow, you both will be given a hero’s honor for saving the County. Not just from any threats, but from a demon. Something which has rarely been killed ever since they appeared. The Countess already prepared medals for you two, so you both better come to the festivities well-dressed.”
Hans now finally spluttered backward. Damn it. More decorations? He already had enough trinkets he acquired in his years of service for killing Flandrians. He didn’t need more.
He looked to his side though. It seemed that his Captain however had different ideas on the matter. Her eyes seemed to be shining in glee.
“Medals!?” She smiled widely and turned to Hans while shoving him with her elbow. “Lieutenant, this is good! Medals. Reputation in these societies is massive. Plus, recognition. Think about it. From a foreign nation!”
Hans however only groaned. “Ah, get off me. Trinkets. Nothing more.”
“Just accept it! This guy, Father. All because he’s received a lot of medals from his homeland, he already started hating it.”
It’s not even worth anything. Hans simply grumbled as he watched Father Olbrich and the now overly excited Adelyn. He looked back at the corpse of the fallen Vanus-turned-demon. He certainly looked to be in great agony when he died.
…Hans wondered now…would it be possible to end up in that way too?
He shook his head.
Never.
“Alright, alright,” Hans spoke. “Time to end the charade, everyone. Let’s get the old man to a proper resting place. We’ll just spin it as him being one of the undead victims.”
“Aye,” Captain Strobel said. “This man’s popular. Even if he’s a Vanus, all because of his contributions to the city. We could use him and those he killed to rile up the people against demons.”
“Yeah…” Hans said. “Yeah, I guess.”
He killed me many times. Hans soon looked away. But I guess…well…I don’t know. I hope he really is just a victim too.
I hope…
+++
+++ Lieutenant Hans Hoffman +++
Rousselot City
JUN 28, 1538 CE
Been a while since I even wore this thing.
Hans fixed himself in front of the mirror. It was nice that he had everything in his mech, even his issued officer’s ceremonial dress in Lotharingian gray. He stepped back and fixed his cap to its proper place. Adelyn absolutely drilled him to ‘fix yourself’ yesterday for some reason.
She wanted the “representatives” of her nation’s Army to be in absolute tip-top shape, he supposed. Hans was quite apathetic to her entire thing. Unlike a noblewoman obsessed with her image, Hans was a commoner and a penal convict at that. Then again, his crime wasn’t so severe that he ever was treated like a true penal convict.
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
It was why he was allowed to become an officer after all, besides the fact that he was an ace pilot.
To them, he was the ‘more decent’ kind who led the worst dregs of Lotharingia—the actual kind of people his nation wanted to rid of in the most useful manner. That was who he was.
Soon, he exited his room to check outside.
“There you are,” Hans looked to his side, hearing her voice. Her golden blonde hair was now tied in an elegant braid, and she too was wearing her dress uniform. And damn it, did she doll herself up for this event. Strangely enough, Hans noticed that her cap didn’t block her halo at all. It was still on top of her head. “There, see? You look like someone who could be in a fancy painting. That’s good, we have to look civilized to these people so they don’t mistake us for barbarians.”
“We’re in full gray, Captain,” Hans retorted. “Pretty much the reverse of wealthy nobility in this time period.”
“Ah, such a naysayer. I tell you what, this is a symbol of Lotharingian military discipline and uniformity. That’s something respectable for soldiers. As I’ve said, in this time period, it is not just wealth that matters. It is appearances. More than in our homeland. That’s how powerful people respect you. That’s how we’ll gain allies. And again, the Countess herself would be giving us decorations. Appearing to a noblewoman in a ceremonial moment with your battle dress and kevlar will be quite the insult. Don’t worry, we’ll look respectable.”
“Or we’ll look arrogant.”
“With the level of self-deprecation you go through, that’s practically impossible.”
“Alright, alright. I get it,” Hans sighed. “I see your wisdom. It’s why you’re in charge.”
She smiled. “Good. Also, you seem to be starting to grow a beard and mustache there, Lieutenant. While it’s unnoticeable, please be sure to razor it clean by tomorrow.”
“W-what? The hell are you, my mother?”
“Regulations, Lieutenant.”
“The regulations only say that I can’t grow my mustache beyond the edges of my mouth.”
“My regulations. Anyhow, I’ll go check on Alizée,” she soon turned around and went down the stairs before Hans could defend himself. All Hans could do was run his hand on his face.
To be fair, I always liked to be clean-shaven anyway. He frowned. But come on, why did she have to say it!? Damn it, that woman’s definitely messing with me.
+++
Both Hans and Adelyn were kneeling in front of the Countess.
The entire proceedings, quite frankly, only seemed like a blur to Hans. It was quite strange to be given this kind of recognition when they two were officers of a nation that didn’t exist here, and they were technically just foreign mercenaries (or in the case of Adelyn, a foreign noblewoman).
Still, just like Captain Strobel and some of his officers who participated in the takedown operation, Hans and Adelyn received recognition. Hell, the damned head priest of the St. Heka church even blessed the two of them, even if they didn’t believe in their religion. Of course, Hans and Adelyn never said that they didn’t believe in their religion.
In fact, one of the first things the two ever did was read about their theology and their gods and goddesses, or of their church. That way, they could blend in as normal “slightly secular foreign soldiers” instead of literal “foreign heathen barbarians”. While Hans initially refused, Adelyn’s argument when she presented him with those two options quickly folded him. There was indeed merit in trying not to look like a heathen in a backward land. Quite frankly, Hans would never have started doing all these blending in culturally without Adelyn.
Unlike Hans, Adelyn was meticulous at curating their image in an extremely positive light to these people. Hell, Hans feared she would soon drill him of etiquette at this rate. In contrast, Hans really wanted to just cough and piss off from this ceremony. He imagined if he was alone, he’d have already screwed up and disrespected something he shouldn’t.
“Rise, you two heroes,” the Countess said. She too seemed, well, just as serious as everyone else in the area. Hans and Adelyn stood up, having practiced the entire procedure of receiving it yesterday from Father Olbrich’s guidance. The Countess soon looked straight at Adelyn, as a servant carried the box that held the medals on top of red cushions. The Countess pulled one of them and pinned it to Adelyn’s chest.
Adelyn respectfully stepped back. Soon, the Countess moved to Hans. Naturally, he didn’t give a crap and just stood straight. Well, at least until the Countess looked him straight in the eye. She merely gave him an understanding nod of respect, before pinning the second medal into him.
“You did well, Lieutenant.”
He didn’t know what to say, so, well, he only gave her a slight bow before stepping backward to Adelyn’s line.
The proceedings soon ended, and the actual festivities for the victory began.
+++
“Haha! You should have seen yourself over there, Lieutenant,” Adelyn laughed demurely as Hans tried to eat his chicken. “Were you really that badly spooked by all those religious priests?”
Spooked? Screw that. I’m apparently a Fallen Angel or a Calamity but I can get inside a church or work with a priest. Clearly, I am either so strong or all this religious nonsense is truly just a farce.
“Are you going to eat that thing or what? You barely touched your food.”
“Oh, a glutton in fine dining? Yeah, I think I have to expand my cultural training program for you. You can’t just eat like that, Lieutenant. Not in high society. You’re wrong, I’m right.”
Well, she did have a point. Unlike the nobles and wealthy city folk inside the Countess’ residency who ate with this overly elaborate social nonsense (and he swore these people were talking and laughing more with each other than actually eating!), Hans was eating like a goblin. Even Alizée ate much like Adelyn, and Hans knew that girl too was a hungry machine when outside. But so what? He was here to eat, damn it.
He straight-up ate faster instead though. “Sorry, Captain, I can’t hear you over this tasty chicken. Damn…there’s less meat than I expected though.”
“Of course, it’s not factory farmed with modern methods you dullard,” Adelyn carefully sliced her meat. “You know, you’re already on your third slice.”
“Well, these things are malnourished by my standards,” Hans stuffed more into his mouth. “I need more. Damn it. What even is the point of eating roast chicken without peas? This sad mashed potato isn’t enough.”
Adelyn snorted before laughing. “Goddess, you’re a pain.”
“Well, if I’m getting this world’s version of fine dining as a reward for finally fixing up the crisis that spooked their nobles and businesses, I better get the best bang for my buck.” Hans emptied his plate. “Damn, that’s good. I’d probably need more. Yeah, don’t care, I’ll shamelessly take more.”
“Is Sir Hans going to grab another full plate?”
Alizée, who was sitting on the side of the table, shook her head and pointed her fork at Hans with a laugh. “Bad.”
“Where the hell did she learn that word?” Hans asked, and Adelyn simply smiled.
“She’s picking up ‘Continental’ fast, Lieutenant,” Adelyn replied. “Then again, she needs to. She’s already rabidly reading her fair share of books to teach herself. That and the nuns are tutoring her. Seems like the Countess took some interest in the kid.”
“She did?” Hans asked. “Well…she is a noble after all. Think she’d adopt her or something?”
“I don’t know,” Adelyn said. “Plus…for some reason, she dislikes going too far away from me. That’s hard to deal with.”
“Yeah, I guess,” Hans sighed. “We have to find a way to deal with her. Can’t just leave her in unsafe hands after all.”
Adelyn then gave Alizée a few headpasts.
“Yeah. I won’t leave her in unsafe hands.”
She then turned back to Hans as she pulled up her teacup.
“Regardless, just like the last problems we faced here, I’m sure we’ll figure out a way through it. Right, Lieutenant?”
Hans hesitated for a moment. It had been…well…a journey for him, really, just to get to this point. It was painful. So damned painful just to get through it all so perfectly. For a moment…he could still remember her face—full of rage and blood as she attacked him.
But now, she, like him, was here, all fine and dandy. No blood on her…just the gentle smile of a noblewoman in a calm situation.
Was it worth it then?
That all of his struggles culminated to this point? A gentle peace, even if it was so brief?
Hans didn’t know yet, but he mustered a smile.
“Absolutely, Captain. I guess we will.”
“Great then. I’m glad we’re in agreement on that.”
Hans nodded.
For their sake, he’d believe it too.
Because for now—he was finally safe from the constricting maze of this debacle.
ARC II END: THE LABYRINTH