CHAPTER 5

This was truly the worst journey of all time!

With his sword drawn, Lord Wolfram von Bielefeld ran towards the stern. What was pelting down from above wasn't rainwater, but seawater. The ship tilted strongly to the port side. The passengers slipped and slid on the wet deck, tumbling back and forth.

"Hurry! Anyone unarmed get below deck! Hold on and stay calm!" roared a voice.

Wolfram had experienced sea voyages affected by catastrophes before. For example, there had once been pirates who wanted to sell all the passengers into slavery. Another time, he and Yuri were mistaken for a married couple who abused their child.

"But this is the first time I've come across an attack by giant squid, damn it!"

Wolfram lunged with his sword and hacked at the gray squid arm that had wrapped itself around the stern. It was as thick as a hundred year old tree trunk; a single sucker was bigger than a toilet bowl in Blood Pledge Castle.

The people around him had all armed themselves with diverse cutting tools and fought against this enormous piece of seafood. A soldier on leave wielded a sword in each hand, and one adventurer had an axe. The head cook swung his giant knife; his two colleagues stabbed with butcher knives and iron skewers. A quiet guy fought grimly with an exceptionally sharp sword.

Even the women were competently putting their backs into it. Only the younger ones enrolled in their first cooking class seemed hesitant. Should they really cut into the flesh of the squid with their cooking knives?

"We've almost got it! Just keep at it! The squid is dangerous, but it's also important for our provisions!"

When a tentacle wrapped around the stern again, the ship began to sway so violently it threatened to go under any moment. If the squid were to pull up the planks, the fate of the humans would be sealed.

"I did it!" one of the young maids called. "You see, Sir Kitchenmaster? It's the first time I've dismembered a squid! Isn't it wonderful!"

At that moment, the monster disappeared back into the deep sea. It left its severed seventh tentacle behind on the flooded deck with the broken mast.

The people left the deck loudly bragging about their own heroic deeds -- with fresh pieces of meat as souvenirs. There would be plentiful squid for dinner.

"Would the ladies and gentlemen who sustained only light injuries please come to me under your own power!" Gisela von Kleist called to the injured in the cabins, as danger was finally averted. "If you have a head injury, please wait where you are until I come to you!"

Her companions ran from one end to the other to determine the number and location of the injured. Lord von Bielefeld, who'd done a lot of hard work, wiped the sweat from his brow. He wanted to talk to Gisela, but he didn't manage it.

"Hey, you lazy ducks!" she yelled. "Get your asses in motion! The wounded can't wait, so get a move on!"

Wolfram stared at his old acquaintance, dumbfounded. He had never known her to be like this.

"Hey you! Did you sleep through your training? What've you got legs for, hm?!"

"To transport the wounded, Field Marshall!"

"What?! You've got time to answer?! Get to work instead! There'll be no napping here, so run, you turtle!"

All at once, Gisela's tone changed: "So, young miss, please show me your forehead. Everything's going to be okay, there won't even be a scar... Oh, Your Excellency!" She noticed Wolfram and smiled.

"You did a great job. There's still a piece of sucker stuck to your face," she observed.

"A question, Gisela... does this mean your rank is only Field Marshall?"

"Oh no, Your Excellency. I can't boast many heroic deeds, but I do hold an officer's rank. That's hard to avoid, when one has served so long. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, it's nothing. Forget it."

"Field Marshall is Lady's Gisela's nickname, Your Excellency," the bald Dacascos explained, completely out of breath. He'd come running from the ship's cargo area.

"Because she -- always orders -- her subordinates -- around like that," he gasped.

Wolfram hadn't known that.

Dark green eyes that shone with compassion, an expression full of motherly love, healing hands -- who would have guessed that this talented healer with the pale fingers could transform into a devilish Field Marshall? Although Wolfram had known Gisela since childhood, he had never once noticed that trait in her. He was bewildered.

"I have to tell Yuri about this," he stammered.

"Dacascos, we don't have time for meaningless chatter. Are there still wounded below?"

"No, Field Marshall! Only a few scrapes. But Kinan has disappeared."

"What? Since when? Maybe the squid caught him and dragged him into the sea? Although, I find that hard to imagine..."

Wolfram knew what she meant. Kinan was the man with the aloof face and cold glance. Wolfram had also imagined him to be the strongest fighter among the four.

"His possessions are also gone. His clothes, arrows, and sword. And his quiver, of course."

Kinan had never let the thick, sturdy quiver out of his grasp.

"What about the rescue boats?" Wolfram cut in.

"No, I don't think there are many rescue boats on this ship... Wait a minute, Your Excellency! You don't think he really...! How far is it now to shore? The distance is much too great, a single person, rowing alone, could never survive!"

"Not alone, perhaps."

"But why would Kinan sneak away?" Gisela wondered.

A very good question.

--

Meanwhile, Gwendal von Voltaire felt so exhausted that he didn't even have the energy to listen to dispatches and give orders.

He couldn't complain about a lack of information -- more news came streaming through the door every moment.

The only thing Gwendal could say in response was: "Continue the search mission."

The advance guard had already arrived in Simaron, but that empire covered about ten times as much surface area as the Demon Empire. Without a concrete lead, it was like searching for a needle in a haystack. To increase the probability of success, the search area urgently needed to be reduced.

Gwendal threw a small white card into the fire and watched it go up in flames. Despite the fact that his long legs were crossed with his toes pointed towards the fire, he didn't feel an ounce of warmth in his body. Was the boy equipped to handle the cold? In Simaron, the onset of winter was imminent.

Whether human or demon, everyone was sympathetic to Yuri. Luckily, he'd been brought up as a commoner, so he shouldn't have any difficulty going to ground in a city. That was a small consolation, at least.

Noblemen often let themselves be ruled by pointless pride. It could sometimes drive them to reject any helping hand offered to them in the enemy territory of the humans.

Yuri, however, knew no shame when it came to contact with humans. As long as he continued to be receptive when it came to foreign aid, at least Gwendal wouldn't have to worry that the boy might freeze.

"Where the hell is he?" Gwendal muttered irritably, once he'd convinced himself he was alone in his office.

Hopefully Yuri hadn't forgotten who he was and what dangers he would face as a double black. Had he managed to hide his identity? Was he aware of the problems between the two Simaron states and the Demon Empire? Had the Schoolmaster adequately educated him on that topic?

Why had he ever surrendered the duties of King's Advisor and Schoolmaster to Lord von Kleist? Gwendal was beginning to regret that decision. He'd have brought more strength to the matter if he'd been involved himself. It probably would've been for the best if he'd taken complete control of the reins there.

Swift steps reverberated through the hall; they slowed as they approached Gwendal's door. Even the soldiers tried not to waste a single second. They too wanted to bring the king's whereabouts to light as soon as possible.

"Request permission to enter, Your Excellency!"

"It's not necessary to feign calm! I've already said that running in the hallway doesn't bother me."

"Yes, sir!"

The color of his collar pin identified the soldier as a palace guard, but Gwendal didn't recognize his face. Did he belong to a different sector? The gaunt soldier stepped up to the desk. With his gaze lowered, he handed Lord von Voltaire two pieces of paper.

"I have a report, Your Excellency! This afternoon, we received these two messages from a civilian newshandler in the city. So they don't come from one of our outposts."

"A civilian newshandler?"

"Yes, sir, Your Excellency! It's a business venture for news delivery by the name ofFly, White Dove, Fly. Doves are sent out with correspondence, and the fees are calculated according to the respective distances traveled. I have to say, it's a well thought out operation."

"I'm familiar with it."

In comparison to the military communication networks of the individual nations, there were large advantages to the private ventures in the areas of speed and security. The advantage ofFly, White Dove, Flywas the fact that they had branches covering the entire world. In the last few years, the demand had risen continually. Today, it was safe to assume that this company had an office in almost every important city.

The workers were very familiar with the flight paths of their doves. The animals were exchanged at countless intermediate stations so that the messages could reach any city in the world.

"Aha, the doves were changed eight times since Small Simaron. This message is from Carolia," Gwendal established. "Why Carolia, of all places?"

The writing on one of the messages was difficult to decipher. The wind and weather had probably contributed to that. The king was sighted with one companion in the autonomous region of Carolia in the colonial territory of Small Simaron -- so said the message. In addition, it contained a question:His Majesty is as enchanting as ever. But why has he been allowed to travel without any protection whatsoever? I request a reasonable explanation!

The second letter had been sent from Small Simaron, one day later. The message said:Isn't it a little irresponsible to send two children out traveling alone?

The sender's name was not legible, but a symbol at the bottom right corner was familiar to Gwendal. Lord Adalbert von Grantz! The man who'd betrayed the demon race and turned his back on his homeland.

"Damn it, the boy had contact with Adalbert?!"

"But Your Excellency! Isn't that man extremely dangerous?"

Gwendal didn't agonize so much about Adalbert as about the phrase "two children" that had been used in the letter. Was the boy traveling with someone about his own age, or was his companion possibly even younger than he was? Yuri was totally capable of something like that. In the end he had adopted the human child he was caring for. That would be nothing new.

Gwendal's worry only grew with this letter. But at least the first letter implied that Yuri had been in Carolia. There weren't many routes out of Carolia. It wouldn't be easy to get from there to Big Simaron.

Gwendal stood, his boots echoing against the floor as he walked. He spread a map out on the desk with a sweeping motion. In the middle of the heavily annotated continent sat Carolia.

"An announcement to all troops on their way to Small Simaron. Immediately upon arrival, all paths to Carolia must be monitored! From the territory of the Steppe Brotherhood all the way to the bordering districts, we cannot allow even the smallest clue to slip through our fingers!"

After the soldier left in a hurry, Gwendal let his eyes wander over the messages a second time. This time he didn't throw them in the fireplace, but rather tucked them safely away in an inner pocket of his jacket.

Adalbert von Grantz was, of course, dangerous, yet the man had gone to the trouble of sending this message. That didn't seem to imply he had any intention of harming Yuri at this time.

But couldn't he have simply caught Yuri and protected him until Gwendal's people could arrive on the scene?

"Not willing to go so far for love after all," murmured Gwendal.

Finally he too left the warm, lonely room.

--

Lady Anissina von Kavernikov's new tailor-made laboratory was located in the cellar of Blood Pledge Castle.

Since time was of the essence, many parts of the laboratory were hurriedly thrown together. However, the noise protection was flawless. After all, the castle's inhabitants shouldn't be woken by screams in the night. For this reason, the door was especially thick and heavy. As soon as one opened it, one was inundated with noise.

"No, I don't want to! She's going to kill me!" a child's voice howled.

It was anything but peaceful in the laboratory.

After Gwendal pressed the door shut with his back, he looked for the source of the screams.

Hollering and crying, a child he wasn't familiar with had latched onto the knees of an older woman. The nanny was completely at a loss. She didn't want to go against Lady von Kavernikov's instructions, but should she really deliver her young charge to his tormentor, just like that?

With an unconcerned smile on her face, Greta stepped up to the child. It had been a very long time since Gwendal had seen Greta smile. Faced with the younger child, the girl instinctively fell into the role of an older sister.

"You look very young, how old might you be? Three?" Greta asked.

"Twelve."

"Whaaaat?! Twelve? That can't be! You're older than me?!"

"The physical development of demon children varies significantly from child to child," Anissina explained. "But this boy is about average. Ah, Gwendal, you're just in time!"

When Anissina caught sight of her childhood friend, she set off towards him. Her red hair, bound in a pony tail, glowed like fire. Her eyes, the bright blue of a summer sky, sparked like dew.

"May I introduce Rinji, the second in rank of the Wincotts. He's Susanna Julia's nephew. I invited him here for an experiment. His blood is the strongest of all the living Wincotts. I hope that with his help, I can bring the Wincott Poison to its full effect!"

Although the laboratory was located in the basement, it had a window through which light shone. Madam Butterfly Gunter stood near it with half-opened eyes, shrouded in silence. If Gwendal strained his ears, he could hear strange breathy noises coming from the doll's body: "Bssssst, bssssst."

"What's the meaning of that?" Gwendal wanted to know.

"He's just sleeping," Greta answered.

The doll's half-open eyes didn't seem quite normal to Gwendal. That sight would give people nightmares.

When Anissina advanced towards the young Rinji von Wincott, the child let out a deafening howl. His light brown hair was long like a girl's. Wet from an abundance of tears, it clung to his cheeks. He screeched with an unnaturally shrill voice that caused the nanny to hurriedly rub his back with her hand.

"Waaaaaah, that's the Devil-woman Anissina, waaaaaah!"

"What's this?! Twelve years old and still scared of the Devil-woman Anissina?" Anissina said with a grin.

"The Devil-woman rips the guts out of children and eats them!"

Anissina had never anticipated that children would hate her so much, just because she'd made herself the protagonist of her own books. Gwendal observed his childhood playmate's back, which was bristling with vitality. Even today, she seemed full of drive. To be honest, she took great delight in spreading terror in small children. Lady Anissina propped her hands on her hips and commanded in a forceful voice: "Be still, boy! Otherwise I might still shave your head and peel off your scalp!"

"Waaaaah!" Rinji sobbed, burying his face between the legs of his nanny.

Anissina bent over him. "Don't you want to know what would happen to you after that?" she asked.

For a moment, the childish wails cut off. Timidly, Rinji lifted his head and focused his frightened gaze on Anissina. "What would happen then?"

"Then I would cut open your skull with a saw, like a flash!"

"Waaaaah!"

Anissina sounded so terrifying, as if she might really make good on her words. She did already have practice using her magic-driven saw on corpses.

For a while, the child gave himself over to the fantasy and tried to imagine the pain. Then he lifted his head again and asked: "And what would happen then?"

"Plop! Then the sawed-off top of your skull would be lifted like a lid, and your brain would be placed in salt!"

"Iiiiiieh! Salt! And then?"

Anissina was a masterful storyteller.

While Rinji von Wincott was listening to her, his tears finally dried up. This boy was the descendent of the Wincotts that the humans were looking for. Because he was still a child, Anissina had to be a little more careful with her experimentation.

Anissina led Rinji to Snow Gunter. She wanted to test whether the Wincott Poison really functioned as described inThe Handbook of Murder by Poison.

Since the poison had only half-spread through Snow Gunter's body, a perfect reaction could not be expected, but she assumed that he would obey the boy's commands.

Rinji stretched his hand towards Snow Gunter, who sprung into an upright position, light as a feather. His body swayed to and fro.

"Await -- orders -- please!"

"Waaaaah..."

Immediately, tears returned to the child's eyes. The frozen beauty had suddenly come to life before his eyes -- that would have frightened anyone.

Unfortunately, Snow Gunter was also still stark naked. For this reason, tears also appeared in the eyes of the nanny -- tears of joy.

"He'll do everything I want now?" Rinji asked.

"As you can see," Anissina confirmed. "It's really fantastic! SoThe Handbook of Murder by Poisonwas right. Anyone brought to a death-like state by the Wincott Poison is completely submissive to the Wincotts."

"May I give him a command?"

"You may. But don't take it too far."

Rinji von Wincott began with a harmless attempt: "Sing!"

Snow Gunter hummed an avant-garde melody to those in attendance. Unfortunately, this brought to light his tone-deafness, which he had successfully kept secret up to now.

Rinji was seized by overconfidence. He felt like he'd suddenly been made king, and let himself get carried away with a very audacious command: "Snow Gunter! Kill the Devil-woman Anissina!"

"Under -- stood."

"Damn it!"Gwendal thought, but it was already too late.

The massive Snow Gunter had already toppled awkwardly onto Anissina. His speed was admirable considering he'd been lying in ice up to now.

Gwendal tried to throw himself between them to protect his childhood playmate, but he was a step too late. The soulless body already had Anissina by the neck.

Anissina crossed both arms in front of her chest and pulled apart with all her strength, so that Snow Gunter's hands were forced to let go. Using her petiteness to her advantage, she jumped right under his nose and punched him in the chin. Rinji's marionette stumbled backwards and Anissina delivered a forceful kick to his neck. This kick catapulted her opponent all the way to the back corner of the room.

"Awesome! Brilliant! The Devil-woman Anissina is the strongest!"

The child did a dance of joy.