The fortress of Spitzenberg stood tall on a high vantage point, offering a commanding view of the small city below.
As Keldric ascended the uphill road leading to the fortress, he couldn’t help but marvel at the majestic mountain range visible over the gently undulating buildings.
“Beautiful.”
“When the weather in the mountains is good, you get views like this,” Alyssa said, riding alongside him.
She, too, gazed at the mountain range with her mouth slightly agape.
Indeed, the sight of the pure white northern winds sweeping over the mountains from the distant northern lands was breathtaking.
Beneath the distant mountain range lay multiple peaks of the mountains surrounding Spitzenberg.
Spring had arrived, and the budding vegetation peeking out here and there made it evident that the weather had grown much milder.
‘The world is so vast. How much have I yet to see?’
Keldric reflected deeply on his own recent tendency to settle for comfort, chastising himself for his weakness.
The world remained wide, with countless places yet to be explored by him. When else but now could he witness such harmonious spectacles of enduring civilizations and magnificent nature?
As he continued to marvel at the scenery, Radomar, who was walking ahead as if escorting Keldric and Alyssa, suddenly turned his head and spoke.
“Sir Keldric, do you know the stories about the Spitzenberg mountain range?”
“Stories about the mountain range?”
“Yes. Stories I’ve heard since I was a child—scary enough to make you wet yourself in fear,” Radomar said with a chuckle.
Radomar was a man from Spitzenberg. Thinking back, it made sense that he would know the way here like the back of his hand, a familiarity not easily gained.
The Earl of Bogenberg had arranged for a mercenary familiar with Spitzenberg to accompany Keldric, a thoughtful and practical gesture.
“In these mountains, wolves have been spotted unusually often for as long as anyone can remember. Do you know why?”
“No, why is that?”
“Because there’s a demon that tears out the hearts of children and eats them raw. They say it’s a massive, jet-black wolf with the tail of a snake and wings.”
Keldric knew that wolves typically lived in packs centered around an alpha, but stories of the alpha wolf being a demon or monster were fascinating. He scratched his chin and slowly nodded.
“A demon, you say?”
“Well… some call it a demon, others a monster. But one thing’s certain: for decades, the alpha wolf dominating this mountain range has been anything but ordinary.”
According to Radomar, there was a time when the wolves’ aggression reached such heights that professional wolf hunters and knights were recruited to hunt down the alpha wolf.
Hunting was a pastime reserved for knights and nobles. Particularly for knights, capturing a prized hunt during events like hunting tournaments brought unparalleled honor.
A wolf with fine fur and large stature, a deer with beautifully grown antlers, or even rare magical beasts—such trophies often adorned the walls of lords’ manors.
If a knight could come to Spitzenberg and hunt the rumored monstrous wolf, the honor and glory they’d earn would be immeasurable. For a time, many knights took up the challenge.
However, the hunts frequently ended in failure, with the parties returning empty-handed. Disappointed and angry, the knights who had hoped for glorious spoils of war often stormed off in frustration.
“A tragic tale. The former Duke of Spitzenberg must have been greatly disheartened.”
“Indeed, the creature was a terrifying presence back then. But starting about a decade ago, the wolf attacks became rare, and nowadays, only a few nuisance wolves remain.”
No doubt, those few wolves were the ones Verna had spoken of. Keldric nodded slowly, deep in thought.
“Were they truly so ferocious?”
“Not these days. Back then, though, they were a real pain in the ah, my apologies. My lowly tongue slipped…”
“Watch your words more carefully. I don’t mind, but what if it had been another knight?”
“My apologies. I’ll think more before I speak.”
“That’s good enough.”
The atmosphere turned a bit awkward, prompting Keldric to clear his throat and compose himself. Radomar, now somewhat sullen, walked silently, focusing on his steps.
Keldric gently urged Aveline forward, his gaze fixed on the fortress that was growing closer with every step.
The family crest hanging outside Spitzenberg Fortress depicted a red wolf on a golden background. A wolf, of all things how fittingly ironic.
The combination of gold and red, and nothing more, signified that the Spitzenberg barony was a noble and time-honored house.
And rightly so. Spitzenberg had long been famed as a fortress guarding against foreign invaders.
While the northern regions had now been fully settled, with villages and communities thriving, it hadn’t always been so. In the days before the empire was truly an empire, such stability was unimaginable.
As they crossed the drawbridge leading into the inner fortress, Keldric glanced down at the deep ravines and valleys that encircled Spitzenberg.
It was impossible to guess how many northern barbarians had met their end there.
Still, one thing seemed certain: with an additional layer of moats encircling the small fortress, this natural stronghold had likely never been breached.
War it had always been about war. Spitzenberg had weathered countless battles over the centuries, standing firm through it all.
Of course, not all places had been so fortunate. Keldric couldn’t help but feel the growing heat of war’s fiery specter smoldering in the distance.
When the day came for Keldric to leave Spitzenberg, it was uncertain whether this fortress would be drawn into the flames of war on the side of Count Lassau or Count Bogenberg.
However, Keldric’s purpose in coming here was for the latter.
If he were to side with Count Lassau and recklessly charge into war, Keldric wouldn’t hesitate to find a way to breach even this natural fortress.
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“May the blessings of the gods be with you. It’s an honor to meet you.”
“Welcome. I’ve been expecting you.”
The Baron of Spitzenberg was an imposing figure.
No exaggeration he looked solid, as if he were made of stone. His muscular physique could make one mistake him for a knight, with a body honed to a remarkable degree.
His square jaw and impeccably groomed beard further emphasized that impression. The Baron gestured toward a chair at the table.
“Please, have a seat. You must’ve had a hard journey getting here.”
“Yes, then…”
As Keldric took his seat, he quickly glanced around the hall of the fortress.
It was different from the banquet hall at Bogenberg Castle. Smaller in size, with a lower ceiling, but its open wall, revealing the stunning view of the mountain range beyond the railing, gave it a far more open and liberating feel.
“It must feel unusual. This room originally had another purpose, but I repurposed it. The view here is excellent.”
“Oh…”
“Still, when the weather turns colder, I move to a different room. The wind blowing over the mountains can get unbearably cold.”
Keldric nodded slowly and tilted his goblet of wine to his lips. The wine was excellent, a clear indication that they were sparing no effort in hosting him.
“So, I hear you’ve brought a letter from the Duke of Bogenberg.”
“Yes, here it is.”
Keldric reached into his coat, rummaging briefly before producing the letter, which he handed to the Baron of Spitzenberg.
For a while, silence lingered. Baron Spitzenberg quietly read his correspondence, seemingly trying to deduce what Count Bogenberg was aiming to convey, while Keldric absently sipped wine and admired the scenery outside.
A cool breeze wafted through. After what felt like an eternity of hearing the rustling sound of Baron Spitzenberg turning the pages, Keldric suddenly recalled Radomar’s story about wolves.
“Baron Spitzenberg, I’ve heard that this area has had a lot of wolf-related troubles. How is the situation now?”
“Ah… it has improved significantly. It was a serious issue during my grandfather’s time, but by my father’s generation, the incidents had greatly decreased.”
Baron Spitzenberg murmured this without taking his eyes off the letter. Indeed, wolves attacking travelers was no longer something Keldric needed to worry about. It was easier to think of it as a relic of the past. Everyone already knew the predictable outcomes of wolves attacking people.
“You must get a lot of high-quality wolf pelts around here.”
“That’s right. There’s even a wolf on our family crest—a red wolf. It’s said that one of our ancestors, the founder of our house, always kept it by his side.”
“Oh…”
“If you’re interested, I could offer you a pelt. We recently hunted a fine wolf, and if I add one for Count Bogenberg, it would make an excellent gift.”
The price of a pelt varied widely depending on its quality. Pelts with undamaged fur and beautiful patterns were much more valuable than Keldric initially thought. With Baron Spitzenberg offering one so freely, Keldric saw no reason to refuse.
“I’ll accept it with gratitude. I’m sure Count Bogenberg will be delighted as well.”
“Good. If you’re going to have it treated, you should do it here. Spitzenberg’s craftsmen are quite renowned for their skill.”
Spitzenberg was home to many dwarf artisans. With such skilled hands, the quality of their goods naturally excelled. Keldric, who was also considering picking up some armor while in Spitzenberg, nodded at the Baron’s suggestion.
“I’ve finished reading the letter. I’ll organize my thoughts soon and send a reply.”
“When the time comes, please let me know. I’ll deliver it to Count Bogenberg for you.”
“That would be helpful. Thank you for your hard work today. How about staying for a meal before you leave?”
“Uh… sure, that sounds good.”
Keldric tilted his head at the Baron’s straightforward hospitality. Count Bogenberg had specifically instructed him to deliver his message clearly a subtle implication that even a show of force would be acceptable if needed.
Yet, Baron Spitzenberg showed no inclination to align with Count Lassau’s faction. On the contrary, his treatment of Keldric, as a representative of Count Bogenberg, was nothing short of cordial. Keldric was at a loss for how to interpret the situation.
Still, mistrusting someone without reason was its own kind of folly. Keldric decided to remain cautious without letting his suspicion show outwardly.
“Please, eat as much as you like.”
“…Thank you.”
Of course, the meal was modest, in observance of Lent.
‘This is unbearable.’
Thinking about how he’d be staying at the castle instead of an inn during his time in Spitzenberg, Keldric’s appetite plummeted. He forced himself to chew and swallow the hard rye bread and salted vegetables.
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The streets of Spitzenberg were not as bustling with diverse goods as Bogenberg or Bellam, which Keldric had visited previously. Buildings made entirely of stone stretched along the roads, constructed in a slightly sloped fashion around the central inner castle. As a result, uphill and downhill paths were fairly common.
“Did your conversation go well?”
Alyssa, walking beside Keldric, asked. Keldric scratched his chin, pondering how to respond, before finally answering with some difficulty.
“I’m not sure.”
“Did something happen?”
“Baron Spitzenberg was much more lenient than I expected. I heard he leaned closer to Count Lassau’s faction, but it doesn’t seem to be as extreme as I thought.”
“Oh… I see.”
Only Baron Spitzenberg would know his true intentions. Keldric had no way of uncovering them. The best course of action he could take was simply to wait.
It wasn’t a choice he found objectionable. Walking through Spitzenberg’s clean streets, surrounded by beautiful scenery, put him in a good mood. Alyssa didn’t complain much either.
In the distance, an aqueduct stood tall between cliffs and ravines. Alyssa explained that it was another creation of the ancient dwarves.
Keldric was reminded of Roman aqueducts. The structure he saw might have been similar or even more advanced. It was certainly impressive.
“The craftsmanship is extraordinary.”
“It’s the work of dwarves before they lost their rune-forging techniques.”
The ancient dwarves had used rune-forging to push the limits of their technological prowess. No one knew why the technique was lost. Some said the dwarves became arrogant and challenged the gods, leading to their downfall. Others believed it was simply forgotten over time as the Dwarven Empire collapsed.
Since Keldric knew nothing of the truth, all he could do was quietly admire the aqueduct.
“Hm?”
As he wandered the streets, taking in the sights, Keldric suddenly felt an intense gaze and quickly turned his head.
Someone was watching him from afar. Clad in a tattered robe like a vagrant, the figure exuded an unpleasant and eerie presence. But the moment Keldric turned to look, the figure vanished.
“What’s the matter?”
“Sir Keldric?”
Without answering, Keldric turned his horse toward the spot where the strange figure had been. It was a narrow alleyway wedged between two buildings, connecting to the road beyond. Keldric stared into the alley.
Though the peculiar figure had disappeared, beyond the alley stood a clearly visible building on the other side of the road.
“A church?”
It was indeed a church. Keldric hesitated for a moment before turning his horse back around. Something about the situation felt deeply unsettling.
In such cases, it was always best to stay uninvolved.