Chapter 8

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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 8
Chapter Title: The Broker of Pomnos
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Without so much as a goodbye, Rutherford strode quickly down the corridor. Walter watched his retreating back, let out a soft sigh, and turned in the opposite direction.

A week had already passed since the king's death.

Walter knew well that this was no time to be complacent. The king, who had seemed poised to reign for another decade, had died suddenly, and the royal line that followed him was all but extinct.

The nobility was anxious over an unknown plague, and the two nations bordering the kingdom were preparing to tear each other apart, eagerly awaiting the right moment to declare war.

It was no wonder the lords were growing impatient. It had only been a week—just one week since the throne had been left vacant—yet the political turmoil was escalating by the day.

Had Walter been a lord himself, he would have endorsed a suitable candidate from among the Council's elders to be king. But alas, he was the Grand General. Knowing his position was akin to that of Parnas's royal scepter, Walter had no choice but to be cautious in the selection of a monarch.

But…

“Arsinoe.”

He had uttered her name before the lords as if it were nothing, but he regretted it almost immediately. It wasn't that he doubted her suitability, but that he had failed to consider her wishes.

Four years had passed since he first met her at the military academy.

…And a year had passed since their chance reunion in Pomnos.

She, who had vanished without a trace along with her mother, was living on the eastern coast of Pomnos, working a job he could never have imagined.

Arsinoe Thea Neoparnas was a criminal.

“……”

As Walter mulled over the reality of the situation, he recalled Arsinoe's current whereabouts and realized he had uttered something utterly absurd to the lords.

But funnily enough, at the same time, he was struck by the conviction that there was no one else as suitable for the role of monarch as she.

“Oh, Grand General!”

His feet, which had been moving unconsciously, came to a halt at the coarse cry.

Lifting his head, Walter realized he had arrived inside his commander's office and blinked as if in a daze.

His dark eyes took in the unsightly image of his adjutant preening himself. Zen, who had been sitting on the floor licking near his thigh, scrambled to his feet with an awkward kick of his hind leg.

“When did you get—*hack, cough*…!”

He coughed and sputtered for a long while, as if some fur had gotten caught in his throat while clearing it, before finally composing himself and standing at attention.

“Uh, um. Good, you’re back earlier than expected. An urgent letter arrived for you. You should take a look.”

“An urgent letter? Where is it from?”

“Judging by the seal on the letter, it seems to be from Pomnos.”

“Pomnos?”

At the word Pomnos, Walter's expression soured as he glanced at the letter.

He rarely received correspondence from there. Why now, of all times?

Suppressing his unease, he picked up the letter. After quietly reading it, Walter let out a long sigh and folded the letter. He then took his robe from the hook on the wall and said,

“Contact Whees. I must go to Pomnos at once.”

⚜ ⚜ ⚜

Lucy, who had been staring at the ceiling, shot up at the sound of clanging iron bars.

Through the frosted bars, she could see someone holding a food tray. Since Lucy was the only prisoner, there was just one tray.

Soon, a large bird-like man came into full view and let out a shrill cry.

“Hey! Get up!”

The guard shoved the wooden frame open with a rattling bang, as if to break it, then pushed the tray through a small opening at the bottom of the cell.

The Raphi guard, old and missing feathers in patches, clacked his yellow beak and shouted.

“Arsinoe! Brought your food!”

“You don't have to shout, I can hear you just fine. What is it today?”

“What’s that?”

“I asked what the food is today.”

“The weather? Same as always! Isn't it winter all year round for you?”

*Sigh*. Lucy gave up on the conversation.

The guard never understood her on the first try. Communication wasn't impossible, but just as with humans, a Raphi's senses dulled with age. The old guard was so hard of hearing he probably wouldn't notice a thunderclap right beside him.

Deciding to just see the menu for herself, Lucy took the tray from the old man.

“Last time you were caught for smuggling or illegal immigration or something. What did you get thrown in for this time?”

As she was warming the hard bread with her hands, the guard spoke, his voice tinged with amusement. Lucy hugged the bread to her chest and raised her voice.

“It wasn't smuggling. I was just helping some refugees. I got caught because I took money for it.”

“Helped a thief? What money does a thief have to help you?”

“Not thieves, refugees! I was helping Lycan refugees! For money!”

“Ah… Ahh! So that’s what it was. You got caught playing broker or something.”

The guard, who had been sitting on the floor, cackled as if he finally understood and looked back at her. The dense scratches on his beak hinted at the old man’s age.

“What do you get out of helping Lycans? That’s their lot in life. To be cooped up in the Empire, quietly suffer persecution, and then die—that’s what it means for them to live a full life.”

“You’re being awfully harsh.”

“What’s that? A talking horse?”

Sighing, Lucy bit into her bread instead of answering. Chewing the now reasonably soft bread, she continued in a low tone, as if talking to herself.

“Those people did nothing wrong. The people of the Empire just hate them for being Lycans, so they fled because they couldn't bear it anymore. How could anyone live in the Empire with that kind of persecution? Even I would want to seek asylum in another country.”

“Their very birth is a sin!”

The guard, who couldn't understand a compliment spoken half a step away, heard the topic of Lycans with uncanny clarity, and his eyes lit up.

“Every full moon, they smoke some strange herb and make a racket, howling and carrying on. They eat every beast in sight, I tell you. And they're so rough, you just can't associate with them.”

*Tsk.* The guard clicked his tongue and tapped his crossed knees with his fist.

At his excessive remarks, Lucy scowled and tapped on the iron bars, causing the guard to slowly raise his head. Belatedly realizing he had gone too far, the guard sighed and continued.

“Oh, alright, alright. I suppose they didn't ask to be born that way. Still, aren't you being a bit too meddlesome? What's so special about them that you'd change their identities and send them to another country?”

“I'm not just helping them for free. They pay me, so I launder their identities and send them to another country.”

“So? Did you make a lot of money?”

Lucy mumbled and shut her mouth. The guard clicked his tongue with a smug, I-told-you-so expression.

“You think there’s any race treated more like a nuisance than the Lycans? They're all dirt poor. What money could they possibly have….”

“…So many of them are poor, it's hard to get paid. Not that I started this for the money, anyway.”

It was true; she hadn't started it for the money. Her first foray into being a refugee broker was because of her mother's meddling.

It all began when Ansilla, taking a walk on the beach, happened upon a small boat. Onboard were a Lycan mother and daughter who had fled the Empire's oppression, and Ansilla couldn't bring herself to turn them away.

“Lucy. Isn't there some way we can help these people?”

She wracked her brain, but there was no obvious solution. They were Lycans, and this was Pomnos.

If their boat had luckily drifted elsewhere, they might have been able to settle down anywhere. But of all places, their boat had headed north.

Could a Lycan mother and daughter survive in a city of Raphi, who considered Lycans their mortal enemies? Anyone, not just Lucy, would have shaken their head.

Ansilla, naive to the ways of the world, had no means to help them, and the Lycan mother and daughter could only weep at their bleak future.

“We suffered so much in the Empire, only to escape to a city of Raphi… We’re fated to die….”

They were such a pitiful sight, crying like that.

Lucy tried to turn a cold shoulder to them, but sadly, she saw herself and her mother in the Lycan pair. Fleeing their country to seek a new life—their situation was the very image of Ansilla and Lucy.

“There has to be a solution. Just wait.”

Meddling must run in the family.

In the end, unable to stand by and watch, Lucy took it upon herself to help them seek asylum in a third country.

That part was a happy ending.

…If only it had ended there.

Unfortunately, the Lycan mother and daughter were apparently quite the talkers.

“Did you hear the rumor? They say a benefactor lives in Pomnos.”

“I heard it too! They say this person secretly sends people to other countries and even helps them find jobs. To think someone so kind exists… It gives you hope for the world.”

A rumor began to spread, unbeknownst to her, that someone in Pomnos was helping Lycans seek asylum. The Lycans living near the border between Pomnos and the Empire heard this rumor and began to hold onto hope.

The Lycans who managed to cross the border and make their way north searched the city, asking around for the refugee broker.

Sadly, the only refugee broker in Pomnos who helped Lycans was Lucy. She refused, and refused, and refused, but in the end, she began to help them.

And the more she helped them, the more her infamy grew.

“*Sigh*… If I’d known it would come to this, I never would have started.”

Recalling her foolish history made her throat feel scratchy.

Lucy forced down the bread and glared at the tray. A couple of dried fish pieces and a cold soup seemed to represent her own sorrowful state.

To think I started such a foolish endeavor….

How did I end up in this mess?

The reason she'd been thrown in jail was just as absurd. *A long tail is bound to be stepped on*, as they say. Whether human or Lycan, tails were always the problem.

Yesterday morning, Lucy had instructed her Lycan client to prepare the necessary items for his asylum.

The Lycan, having left her place, happened to encounter a swindler's wares at the market entrance: 'the tailbone of a forgotten dragon.'

To a Lycan, who considered bones the ultimate delicacy, a dragon's bone of all things….

Lycans wore robes to hide their appearance, but their blasted tails would pop out at any given moment, whether they were happy or sad, announcing to the whole world that their owner was a Lycan.

As a result, the Lycan, excited by the sight of the bone, began to wag his tail, revealing his identity with his entire body.