Gun of Ashes

”This is today’s report. The King of Gaulunaro has passed away.”

”This… so what?”

Red Falcon couldn’t make sense of it for the moment, while Hebdo’s expression at his side had already changed slightly.

”Before his death, the King of Gaulunaro confirmed his heir to be his son, Cornel Garrell, and at the same time appointed the director of the Iron Law Bureau, Corey Ferre, as minister.”

Eve quickly explained. This counted as a political earthquake in Gaulunaro, and it had happened extremely fast—by the time they were reading the paper, the new King had already taken the throne.

”Corey Ferre? That guy?”

Red Falcon remembered the name, and the man that name represented.

”It’s him. Now he’s stepped out from behind the curtain, they must be planning something big,” Eve said in a panic. ”More importantly, before the old King died, a large number of old nobles and ministers were purged.”

As she spoke, Eve pointed to a corner of the newspaper. It only occupied a very small column, just a few short lines of text, but those few lines contained information far more important than the headline.

”Cutting off funds, threats from assassins, verdicts passed.”

A new voice sounded. Erin walked in from behind the door. As a barely-counts-as-one-of-the-team member, she too had been taken in by Black Mountain Hospital after they arrived in Ingwig. These days she and Eve were roommates, living in the room next door.

”In the years the old King has been gravely ill, on the surface his control over the country loosened. Nobles and ministers did plenty of shady deals in the dark, thinking no one would notice. In reality, all of it was under the Iron Law Bureau’s surveillance. At the very end of the old King’s life, he launched an internal purge. All that evidence, long since collected, was laid out in the open. With hardline measures they cleared out most of the old nobility. The ones who survived will only tremble and cower. They’ll submit to this new King, just so their families can survive his wrath.”

Erin looked at the paper, her expression grave.

”Just before he died, the old King unified the realm once more and handed it over to his son, intact.”

”They’re preparing for war—preparing to face our war. Only a country united like that can stand against us,” Hebdo said.

There was a hint of repression in his voice, making everyone in the room feel uncomfortable.

Red Falcon, Eve—everyone knew one thing very clearly: with Ivar dead, war was inevitable. And this time, they would be the ones to start it. Everything now was just the calm before the storm.

”Looks like I’ll have to leave.”

Hebdo said this as he turned and began packing his clothes.

”Where are you going?”

Red Falcon asked his temporary roommate. To be honest, having someone to chat with in the middle of the night wasn’t bad at all—though Hebdo really couldn’t stand it. He couldn’t understand how someone could be about to fall asleep and still have so much crap to say.

”The Viking countries. I should’ve left long ago. The doctors say my mental state is stable and I can leave anytime. But like you said, this kind of peaceful leisure is hard to come by, so if I can enjoy it for a few more days, I will.”

War isn’t a joke; it’s deadly serious. Hebdo had some things he needed to report back in person—for example, Ivar’s death. In the end, that man had also been the King of the Ice Sea’s son.

”I’m taking these books with me.”

Hebdo said, grabbing a few volumes he hadn’t finished reading yet.

”The Rhine Alliance, the Viking countries, and Ingwig—the power of unity… This is going to be a war that sweeps across the entire western world!”

A shriek rang out. Only then did the others remember there was still another person in the room.

Heracles was tied to the bed. He lifted his upper body with effort and screamed at them.

”Conspiracy! It’s all a conspiracy! They’re going to kill everyone!”

It was as if a chaotic storm had burst inside his skull. In an instant, Heracles had extrapolated a catastrophically bad future, with the whole ocean stained red by countless deaths.

”What… what’s wrong with him?”

Eve ignored Heracles’ words and instead asked this of his roommate, Red Falcon.

Red Falcon shook his head helplessly and said,

”I don’t really know either. Anyway, Heracles says he can talk to mice—more precisely, to Polo. He can understand what Polo says. Since he was supposed to undergo a psychiatric evaluation anyway, the doctors suspected he’d been contaminated, but he doesn’t show any signs of aberration… In short, he’s a pretty unusual case.”

Red Falcon remembered the follow-up and continued,

”The doctors did a lot of tests on Polo too and confirmed it’s just an ordinary chinchilla. Nothing abnormal at all. In the end they even did a little surgery on him while they were at it.”

”Surgery?”

Eve was a bit puzzled. Usually everyone gathered in the garden in the afternoons, like a group of elderly men and women. This was the first time she’d realized Heracles was here.

The cage shook violently, cutting off Eve’s question. Polo was ramming the bars in a fury, squeaking something.

”Screw you, did you just curse me? Who was it that bought you from that fur trader—have you forgotten?”

Heracles jerked his head up with effort. From the look of it, he and Polo had started trading insults.

”How’s that my fault? Can’t you see I’m tied up too?”

”Squeak squeak squeak!”

”They got itchy hands and neutered you. What the hell was I supposed to do about it?”

The squeaking stopped for a beat, then resumed with even greater ferocity.

Eve watched this odd war of words, her expression complicated.

”Are they always like this?”

”More or less. But the doctor said if he gets too noisy, we can give him a shot of sedative.”

Red Falcon raised his brows and pulled open the drawer.

...

Hebdo left, and Eve left with him. She was just as puzzled about the plot behind this operation. Her mental evaluation had stabilized as well, and she was allowed to leave. She had to go complete her internship, and go ask Arthur what the hell this was all about.

The room fell quiet—too quickly. It was like when he’d come back to Ingwig from Gaulunaro.

Everything had happened too fast, giving no time to prepare. All Red Falcon remembered was a bunch of people shouting his name, then bright lights flashing before his eyes. When he woke up again, he was in Black Mountain Hospital, his entire body wrapped tightly in bandages.

After a shot of sedative, Heracles quieted down, and Polo fell asleep too. The overly quiet room made Red Falcon uncomfortable, like the empty chill after a party ends.

”You’ve recovered pretty well, Moon.”

The voice startled Red Falcon. He turned his head and finally remembered Erin was still here.

To be honest, after all they’d been through, although Red Falcon wasn’t keen to admit it, deep down he’d begun to not quite hate Erin so much—just like he could now shoot the breeze with Hebdo. No matter what had happened before, by now they more or less counted as brothers who’d gone through life-and-death together.

These people had carried him back alive from Gaulunaro. But because of certain bashfulness and such, Red Falcon found it hard to show any real gratitude. At most he’d promised Hebdo that if his novel ever got a sequel, he’d mail it to the Viking countries—on his own dime for postage.

”Wh-what is it?”

Red Falcon looked at Erin and shrank back a bit in fear, but he was already up against the wall with nowhere to retreat.

”I just feel like there are a lot of people we might never see again in this lifetime.”

Erin said it with a touch of melancholy.

”Like Hebdo—do you think you’ll ever see him again?”

Red Falcon froze, not understanding what Erin meant.

”He’s gone back to the Viking countries—that far-off, frozen place. He’ll return to his post and join the tide of war. And you’re the same. You’ll go back to the Purification Mechanism and throw yourself into that enormous machine. Maybe that glance you two just exchanged was the last time you’ll ever see each other in your lives.”

Red Falcon opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but suddenly Erin walked over and grabbed his face.

There was nothing romantic about it, no intoxicating scene. Erin just roughly clamped Red Falcon’s head in place so he couldn’t move.

Expressionless, Erin stared at him. Red Falcon could even see his own reflection in her pupils. He could feel the force in that gaze, as if she were trying to carve the sight before her into her mind forever.