The Punitive Force

Among all titles, "Sage" is one that can never be claimed for oneself. Its standards are applied with merciless rigor.

Of all the sages known across the Serdes Continent, Helus Fobidas had taken a path so exceptional it bordered on the absurd.

He was neither a product of the scholars' city of Escoleia nor a prodigy whose genius had been anticipated from childhood. He had been nothing more than a common-born mage of no particular renown.

Helus himself left behind an anecdote about the moment he became a sage.

One ordinary night, while he slept, he awoke and found himself face to face with something absolute. That absolute presence took the form of a god, and it offered him a choice of two gifts.

The potential to ascend as a 7th Circle Archmage.

Or the wisdom and knowledge that embraced all things under heaven.

He could have chosen the seventh circle and the power to dominate everything—but Helus claimed he chose wisdom and knowledge so that he might aid all of mankind.

It was the most novel load of nonsense imaginable.

Yet not a single soul dared challenge the story.

After all, the man was called a sage, and he possessed knowledge and wisdom that bordered on the miraculous. Though he was a thoroughly worldly creature, that wisdom of his never wavered; in some sense, people called him a superhuman.

In truth, Helus Fobidas was no superhuman at all.

He was a man every bit as honest with his own emotions as any ordinary person.

And right now, Helus wore a face dark with foul temper.

His gaze looked down upon a woman kneeling before him. Fury filled both eyes, as if she herself were the root of every evil in the world.

The middle-aged woman had once been his personal servant.

Helus had spent half of every fortune he had ever amassed simply to find her. Skilled mages and trackers had followed her trail, and at last they had succeeded in dragging her back to his estate.

The moment she first set foot inside the mansion, she had been beaten like a dog. Through an entire night of thrashing at the hands of the servants, they had broken her body until she could barely hold herself upright.

She kept her head bowed to the floor, trembling in terror.

Her lips parted.

"M-Master, please spare me…"

"Master?"

Helus gave a short, contemptuous laugh.

"Yes. I was your master, wasn't I? That's right. And do you know what becomes of a servant who abandons her master and runs?"

He tapped the club in his hand lightly against his open palm.

"She gets beaten like a dog."

"P-Please spare me. I beg you…"

Somehow, with her broken hands, the middle-aged servant managed a clumsy prayer gesture and pleaded desperately. Between her slightly parted lips, only a few teeth remained.

"Fine. I'll forgive you. All you have to do is tell me where that little brat you stole from me is."

"I don't know! I was tricked—someone took the child from me!"

Helus drove his foot into the side of her head.

"Do I look like an idiot to you!? Two gold coins came tumbling out of your pocket, and you think I don't know where those came from!?"

"Aagh! Please, just spare my life, I beg you!"

"I said I'll spare you. As long as I find that brat! So dig up every scrap of wisdom you have—and the ones you don't—and start thinking! Think! Think!"

Helus barely restrained the urge to simply crush her windpipe then and there.

But he could not.

For better or worse, this woman remained the only remaining thread that might lead him back to "it."

Just then, someone knocked on the door.

A man wearing a black hood stepped inside.

"Sage. The commission you entrusted to us has been completed."

It was the best news Helus had heard in ages.

Like a child presented with a new toy, he hurried over with a bright, unguarded face.

"Ohh! Show me. What in the world was the result?"

"Using the composite sketch drawn from the servant's description, we made inquiries. The conclusion is that the man is the Regent of Baldrova."

"Baldrova… the Regent?"

"We expected you would be surprised. We ourselves never anticipated that particular individual."

Helus was not surprised by the identity itself. He knew Baldrova was a dragon; what he did not understand was the word "Regent," and that was what had drawn the startled sound from him.

"We confirmed it on the far eastern frontier. They called them the Regent and the maid. It is certain."

"And what exactly do those people do?"

"As you know, after recently becoming the consort of the Grand Duke of Baldrova, he began administering the Grand Duchy, and—"

"Ahh."

Helus waved a hand dismissively, cutting him off.

"Enough. So those damned people took what belongs to me. Is that the long and short of it?"

"That is correct."

Helus understood well enough.

The one who had taken it was the consort of a sovereign, was he not?

They came all the way from the far east and took it? Why? Could they have realized its purpose?

Helus chewed his nails in rising anxiety.

That child was the very reason he had become famous—and the source of his fortune. That was why he had cherished her even while working her as a mere servant. The best place to hide a tree was in a forest, after all.

And all because of that stupid bitch…

He had never imagined the servant would sell the little one off.

Helus looked down at her with eyes still burning with rage.

The middle-aged servant sobbed brokenly.

"C-Congratulations, Master. N-Now you know who it is, don't you?"

She forced her broken fingers together in another prayer and begged and begged again.

"Please, spare me now. I beg you. Wherever I go, I will never speak a word about you. I'll live quietly. Please…"

Helus regarded her with flat, empty eyes.

A change of heart.

They said a man's heart going into the privy was different from the one coming out. Now that the thread of information had become concrete, there was no reason to leave a potential nuisance alive.

Helus turned his head toward the black-hooded man.

"You."

"Yes."

"Kill her. That useless woman."

"Y-You said—! That wasn't the promise!"

The black-hooded man drew his sword and approached the servant.

Inescapable death closed in.

The servant who had only wept and begged until now finally lashed out in last, desperate fury.

"You filthy bastard! I know your truth! I know what you did through that little girl! You're no sage! You're—"

The old servant's head dropped to the floor.

Still twisted in the expression of her final scream, the head rolled pitifully across the boards.

The black-hooded man flicked the blood from his blade.

"With this, the mission appears complete. Will you provide the payment?"

"Of course."

A jewel box containing a sum equal to a quarter of Helus's remaining fortune changed hands. The man checked it roughly and stuffed it into a leather pack.

"We of the Black Bandana thank you sincerely for your patronage, customer."

They did only the work, took only the pay, and withdrew cleanly. That was the way of the secret organizations called the Black Bandana.

With this, Helus had spent three-quarters of his entire wealth.

It had to be done.

If he had been stingy, he would have regretted it.

Helus looked down at the two composite sketches the black-hooded man had left behind.

A tall, handsome man with gray hair, and a silver-haired girl with a high side ponytail.

Helus's fat face twisted with fury.

A pair of gutter-scraping mongrels dare to covet what is mine?

He vowed they would never leave this matter unscathed, and began to scheme.

"How do I take it back from these people…"

Methods were plentiful.

Who was he, after all?

A sage.

A man to whom every kingdom sent love letters, begging him to become their advisor. He was a national treasure; naturally, even the Empire contacted him from time to time.

I'll use the Imperial auditors. Call him Regent or whatever you like—before the Empire, he's still just a dog.

Even if the man was the Grand Duke's fiancé, it would not be a problem. Ever since the assassination of the Third Prince, Baldrova had not shown herself to humans. She had always been that way, and she would be the same now.

Helus placed his hand upon the crystal orb resting on his desk.

Responding to his mana, the orb began to flicker. After a moment the light steadied, and a voice rang inside Helus's mind.

—I greet the Sage of Water! I am Hans, communication mage of the great Arken Empire!

"Might I have a brief word with Sir Karl Harvest?"

—Sir Karl Harvest, you say? Understood. Please wait a moment.

After a short wait, a lively voice came through.

—Ohh, Sage! How do you do!? Have you been well?

"Haha, I have been well enough. And you?"

—I lose sleep every night! All I do is count the days until Your Excellency the Sage decides to join our Empire.

"Haha, is that so?"

The conversation already felt promising. Helus decided to get to the point.

"Listen, my friend. Lately there is one thing that has me rather unsettled."

—Unsettled, you say?

"I had a young maidservant. The poor girl was abducted by some scoundrel. So recently I wrung every drop of my knowledge and wisdom, and at last I found out who took her."

—Where is it? Just say the word! We will help.

"The Regent of Baldrova, they say."

—The Regent of Baldrova!

Karl answered in a voice sharp with surprise.

"What is it? Is there some problem?"

—Not at all. I merely thought what a coincidence this is! Just recently I heard that young upstart has been running wild.

"So he is rather well known, then?"

—As it happens, our Punitive Force was already thinking of going out to restore some discipline.

"Ohh, is that so? He is connected to a dragon, though. Will it not be dangerous?"

—Haha! Do not worry yourself overmuch! You know as well as I that dragons do not lightly interfere in the affairs of men, yes?

"Th-That is true, yes."

Helus had not known that at all.

—That young whelp will have to handle it alone. No matter how long he thrashes about, he is powerless beneath Imperial law! Besides, I hear even the local lords have begun to regard him with caution. It is high time we showed them who holds the upper hand!

Helus smiled.

"Then I shall leave it in your hands. While you are teaching him a lesson, bring that child back here to me! Do that, and I will join the Imperial side, just as you have always wanted!"

—Ohh! You will truly do that? Then of course I must gladly grant your request! Haha!

"Good. I will send one of the composite sketches. Simply bring the child. I leave it to you!"

—Of course! Leave everything to me!

Helus cut the communication with a look of deep satisfaction.

This is the power and renown I enjoy as a sage.

Once he had tasted it, he could never cast it aside.

If only I recover that child… I will no longer merely play the part. I will become a true sage once more.

That was why he had to reclaim her, no matter the cost.

"Your Excellency. A letter has arrived from the Empire."

"Hmm. So the thing that was bound to come has finally come?"

The aged lord, Ulvera Consilus, stroked his beard and lifted the letter from the tray. Seeing the imperial crest stamped upon it, he briefly hoped it might be an apology from the supply bureau.

"Hmm…"

The moment his eyes fell upon the sender field, Consilus felt the blood reverse in his veins.

"Heh heh heh…"

Consilus let the rage that clogged his chest spill out as laughter.

"Arwen."

"Yes, Your Excellency."

"A letter from the Punitive Force has flown into our domain. It seems even we have finally become something worth eating."

"Those filthy dogs dare…"

Arwen's hand already hovered near his sword hilt in pure fury.

Consilus tilted the letter toward the brazier before him, ready to cast it in unread.

"Hmm…"

Yet a sudden impulse whispered that he might as well glance at the contents first.

That intuition proved correct.

They were not aiming at Count Consilus. They were aiming at Ferda.

"These insolent whelps have set their sights on the Regent."

Arwen was startled.

"They would do such a thing to the man who is to become the Dragon's consort?"

"Have those creatures living inside the Empire's walls ever actually seen a dragon? They fear the trolls of the forest more than they fear dragons."

A distant sword was always less immediate than a nearby fist. People heard the warning to fear a dragon's wrath, but the generation that had actually experienced that wrath was vanishingly small.

"And if you think about it carefully, it is not entirely impossible."

"Is that so?"

"Have we ourselves not treated Her Highness Baldrova as if she did not exist until now?"

"Ah…"

"And we also made light of the Grand Duke's fiancé."

"That is true, but…"

Arwen finally recognized the truth of it and flushed.

"Even so, how could a mere knight dare send a letter like this, intending to fleece the Regent…"

"It is proof of how thoroughly the Arken Empire is rotting from within."

The nobility wallowed in pleasure; the swords of the knights had rusted. In order to hold the hearts of the capital's populace, they were sucking the provinces dry with taxes and slowly killing them. Attempts at uprising had been made more than once, yet each time they were crushed without a sound and left for dead.

The pillars our ancestors raised are solid enough that even when gnawed they do not collapse.

But when the time of collapse finally came, they would fall without resistance.

As nothing more than a single count, Consilus had intended to drift along with that current and live out his days in quiet obscurity.

But things were different now.

"Ferda Valdrova…"

A single shaft of light. A handful of salt.

When help was needed, he alone had given support without a single word of complaint—solely for the development and peace of the domain.

And that was why—

"Those contemptible dogs."

—Consilus could not help but burn with anger.

He might have been an old man who only walked the tightrope of politics, yet he was still a leader who protected the Empire and its people. At last something in the far east seemed to be turning in the right direction, and these whelps had the gall to throw sand in the gears. He could not forgive them.

"We shall put a ring through the Punitive Force's nose."

Not a mere check or a threat—complete subjugation. Creatures that could turn even a perfectly sound lord into a man marked for death could not be left unattended.

And the tool required for that was Ferda Valdrova himself.

These people have no idea how great a being the consort of Baldrova truly is.

So Consilus decided to pour abuse upon Ferda. More precisely, he wrote the entire story of how Ferda had intimidated the local lords, then added the judgment that the man was a villain who made heaven and earth cry out in outrage.

"Send this to the Punitive Force. A reply should arrive soon enough."

"Understood. Shall I inform the Regent of Baldrova in advance as well?"

Count Consilus considered for a moment, then shook his head.

"No. Let it remain between us alone. Once we arrive, everything will resolve itself anyway."

"Understood."

He did not say it aloud, but Consilus also wished to see for himself, one last time, exactly how Ferda would respond when he came face to face with the Punitive Force.

And his expectations were not betrayed.