The morning light was warm.
The wind brushed against the grass and trees. Creating a soothing rustling sound. A balm for the weary.
It's still early morning and already, the minds of the Guards were already frayed.
"I can't believe we're actually about to do this again..." mutters one of the guards.
His whisper was heard by everyone else present. But none reprimanded him.
"... it's still a month away. Should be enough time-" tried to reason one.
"Time for what?" interrupts another. "To sharpen a wooden pole's end so we actually have weapons to skewer those Imperial horse riders instead of being trampled down to death?"
"Pah!" scoffed another. "That's stupid. They'll just take what you already made, give it to their men, and then tell you to make another."
The man's jest received laughter all around. But the heavy atmosphere barely abaited. Remaining heavy in their hearts.
"...still.. war with the empire huh... Again?"
"During harvest season too... *sigh~ famil's gonna have to settle for porridge again."
"Still... Makes you wonder if it's coincidence."
"Pfft! Of course it is! They attack during harvest so we'd have to ration! Can't maintain so many people fighting if everyone's hungry!"
"You mean if the commoners are hungry. I swear I thought I saw a half eaten chicken at Lord Rettenmaier's kitchen last night. I was just bitten to the punch by one of the maids, is all."
"Either way, this sucks... I guess we'll have to rely on next harvest then."
The last statement received plenty of nods and encouragement. But many decided to drop the topic after that. After all, how could uneducated commoners understand what any lasting damages of a missed harvest could do to a Kingdom.
"Oi. Someone's approaching." said one guard, as he held a farsight tool to look into the distance.
"In case you're drunk again, this is a Gate. Someone's always approaching... " remarks another receiving snickers and laughter.
"I'm not drunk!" the man answers indignantly. "...and you might want to see this."
Their superior stepped in and frowned at the single cart approaching them.
"I remember the kid and the man with them sir." said the guard. "Nfirea Bareare. Left seven days ago for the Forest of Tob with a Gold Adventurer Team, SkyWolf. Now–"
"–their returning the with only one member, a noblemen, and a maid while donning the flag of the Royal Family."
Silence remained all around, many shared looks at each other.
"Has the Princess arrived?"
After a brief silence, weight slowly pressed on their shoulders and horror slowly growing into their faces.
"... bring me the Logbook."
"S-Sir?"
"They're gonna look someone to blame. I won't give them any. I will burn it if I have to, being me the Logbook."
A couple of men immediately scrambled to action while the rest tried their best to hide their faces to everyone present.
Tension slowly climbed, and when the order was given, it snapped into fragile silence.
"Raise the Gates! Let them through!"
The cart barreled through the gates unhindered. With the lone adventurer holding a war axe jumped down and ran for the Adventurer's Guild.
But it was the cart that the guard's eyes kept affixed to as it kept on going straight to the Central Mansion, where the Lord of the land resides.
•
•
—.—.—.—.—Break—.—.—.—.—
3 Days Later
°
Mid day, and already, the minds of the Adventurer Team, SkyWolf, is frayed.
They sat at the pile of rubble. Watching as a hundred adventurers clambered around the former base of Eight Fingers.
One among them, is Momonga holding a dagger with seemingly frayed focus.
*ting~ the sound grabbed the attention of everyone nearby.
And saw the dagger now fallen to the ground with the Black Knight, looking at his slightly shaking hands. And as he clenched his fists, he seemed to gather his strength and wits, while his head turned body of the Princess.
Her body being wrapped in white linen by Albedo.
He the returns his focus back to his hand. And slowly he wrapped his fingers around the handle.
"...even Heroes feel the weight of failure it seems..."
Belotte's whisper received nods from Mave, Arkis, and even Britta.
—.—.—.—.—
'Interesting' Momonga thought as he explored the unseen mechanics of Yggdrasil.
Just like the original Momonga, he can't wield any item that is outside his build. He could use various large weapons, from pole arms, axes and swords due to the classes Death Knight and Doom Lord.
But the moment he held the dagger as his primary weapon, he felt a jolt on his hands that made his fingers numb. Knocking the dagger out of his grip.
But there is a loophole to the system. What if he didn't see them as a weapon? Instead he looked to his hands and focused. Reducing the dagger from a weapon to a mere accessories or a utilities tool to be used when necessary.
Just as the image solidified in his palm, he closed on it physically and mentally holding the image in his head.
A soft sigh suddenly reached his ears, and slowly, he turned to Albedo just as she placed the final wrap around the princess.
'I'll have to do something nice for her after this.'
Setting those thoughts aside, he tried once more and succeeded.
He felt so excited at the prospect, that he had to hold himself back from jumping around like a kid high on sugar.
Suddenly, noise and chatter reached the ears of everyone present.
And from the makeshift path, carved out by Adventurers, walked the King and his retinue.
And as soon as his eyes landed on the face of his daughter, a scream of agony echoed through.
And Momonga knew, this was no place for anyone to be. He held Albedo's hand and gently guided the woman away. A grieving King is not someone an outsider should be dealing with.
—.—.—.—.—
As soon as the King gathered hinself, questions and accusations immediatly rains.
Within he very maze of caves, they found a large empty hall.
And within, a makeshift court was immediately convened.
A court hosted in barely held silence.
Neither the respectful kind, nor the tense kind, but simple the bubbling kind.
This was the restraint of too many people who wanted blood but had yet to agree whose.
The chamber was filled wall to wall with nobles, their finery a mockery against the grim colors of the room. Every whisper died the moment it formed, crushed beneath the presence standing at the hall's center.
The King.
He stood rigid, hands clasped together atop a desk, gaze fixed forward but unfocused.
Before him stood the Guild Master of E-Rantel, Pluton Ainzach. He stood with straight posture, hands folded calmly behind him.
To one side stood Belotte, helm removed, shield resting at his side. His armor bore signs of battle and dents that had not been polished away.
Beside him stood Mave, SkyWolf's ranger. Hood lowered. Eyes angry but silent.
And just behind them, half a step removed from the proceedings, stood Momonga and Albedo.
Both stood side by side with Momonga's arms crossed and Albedo holding on to an arm and leaning her head against it.
Several nobles stared openly, while others glanced. Some of the younger ones started posturing as if to try and grab her attention only to fail with the giant muscle bound warrior right beside her.
Then, the King spoke.
"Explain." he commanded.
Pluton inclined his head. "Your Majesty. SkyWolf was contracted to escort Nfirea Bareare, herbalist of Carne Village, during a gathering expedition near the Forest of Tob–"
A noble scoffed. "An escort for herbs," he sneered, "while the Princess rode the same roads."
But Pluton did not react and continued.
"During the escort, SkyWolf's ranger detected signs of an ogre horde moving toward settled land–"
Murmurs rippled through the nobles.
"Ogres are common," one said sharply. "You expect us to believe that justified abandoning their route?"
Pluton looked to Mave and nodded, and the ranger spoke calmly. "This wasn't common," he said. "Numbers. Direction. Speed. If left alone, a village would've been hit and flattened in minutes."
"And you assumed you could handle it?" another noble snapped.
Belotte answered this time. "Yes," he said evenly. "Because that is what we are trained to do."
"Despite your escort being your priority?" asked another to which Belotte smiled and answered.
"We asked him, he was the one who agreed."
The words landed harder than raised voices, allowing the Guild Master to seize the moment.
"SkyWolf is classified as a monster-slaying adventurer team, not royal knights. Their own field assessment determined that they could eliminate the threat quickly and return, is consistent with their role, experience and history."
A noble leaned forward, eyes sharp. "And while they were playing heroes… the Princess vanished."
Belotte's jaw tightened.
"No," he said. "She was already gone. Despite saving the nobleman and the maid, we didn't even know about the Princess till Mave returned to give his report."
"And what did he report?"
The hall stilled and Pluton nodded to Mave who continued. "I identified three people escaping through the forest. One was a large warrior, but the other two I recognized. A necromancer of Zuranon, and Edström."
"Convenient," the noble hissed. "An Adventurer Team failing to catch a former Mithril Ranked Adventurer. Unless of course you accidentally misplaced the body. Then again... you arrived too late to save her from one of your own."
"Formerly, Marquis Raven." Pluton strongly adds.
Belotte bowed his head. "Yes."
The word carrid the tone of finality, but the voice of another nobleman cut through.
"So let us be clear. No guards survived. Two royal witnesses remain. And the only testimony you try to scrutinize are those that comes from adventurers who chose to leave the road. Chase bandits, brigands, and criminals of Eight Fingers, fought Necromancer and a skilled fighter alongside a mythical creature known as a Skeletal Dragon. Am I getting this right?"
The accusation hung naked and sharp.
The Guild Master did not raise his voice, but he answered calmly, "Correct," he said. "And that is precisely why conjecture must not replace evidence."
He placed several documents on the table.
"My King, The Eight Fingers facility was confirmed. Necromantic residue was and is still present. A skeletal dragon was destroyed. Undead remains littered the site."
Murmurs grew louder.
"Are you suggesting—" a noble began.
"I am stating," Pluton interrupted, "that SkyWolf did not enable the crime. They responded to it."
A noble sneered. "Or arrived late by design!"
Belotte lifted his head, and nearly shouted,
"If we wanted her dead, we wouldn't have bled trying to save her!"
Pluton gripped the young man's shoulder and pulled him back while sending a reprimanding glare.
Silence followed as the Guild Master turned to the King. "Your Majesty. SkyWolf failed to save the Princess. That is undeniable. But failure is not guilt."
The King's shoulders trembled. Anger and doubt clouding his judgement. That was when Marquis Raeven decided to make a push.
"And still we cannot set aside that this may be a hoax." his words gathering the attention of those present. "My King, I have taken to interrogate the prisoners and all said the same thing... this very hall, was actually a fully stocked treasury."
Murmur and surprise filled the hall with people actually looking around and noticing a few pieces of coins lodged in the small cracks of the rocks. "There is no treasure. No coin. Not even stocks and provisions. But we do have arrests of their most insignificant members. None possessing proper authority except one former adventurer who is still missing and is potentially hidden–" Pluton bristled at the accusation. "And a Necromancer who's identifying tool is yet to be found.
"We have proof of their battles as they so eloquently provided but... how could they have won? If you must know your Majesty, a Skeletal Dragon is said to be a rival faced only by those who had stepped on the Realm of Heroes. And I highly doubt a Gold adventurer is at the same level.
"We have an empty base, with grunts, and expendable members while they present us with heroes who fought a horde of ogres, a hundred men, creature of Myth and all the while trying to save a Kingdom's Princess. Makes for a fine tale I admit."
"At what behest? For whos gain?" Pluton asks. "You throw accusations and with exinuating circumstances but provide no proof–"
"Proof is on our side Guild Master." said Marquis Raeven. "Do not twist my words any more than it already has. Let us not spread more lies while the body of the Princess is still warm. She deserves Justice, far more than anyone ever did."
"Then let us provide our proof."
Her voice was soft, yet strong. Enticing for those who heard. And all attention shifts to her immediately.
Albedo stood with yellow glowing eyes, chin up and a poster that remained unbent.
"You wanted proof, then my Lord will give it to you." she then turned to the King and said. "Your strongest warrior. Your finest man. Against my Lord and you will have your Proof."
"Let it be with your own eyes and ears, with all of you as witness. To hold no lies, veiled as accusations and bare no falsehoods. To see for yourself, that there was indeed someone here who had stepped in the Realm of Heroes."