They rode until evening, and somehow Ioha managed to shake off the discomfort from the last days. This world was brutal in a way he always had the luxury to avoid in his own Earth. Now he understood better the privilege of life he took for granted. Sweden, or Japan for that matter, wasn’t Earth. Here he had to face the parts of humanity he kept at a distance in his earlier life. It didn’t make it less brutal, but he believed he saw a way to embrace his darker side and still remain human. Here, doing what was right became more important than back home because drawing that line was what made the real difference.

  Derina mostly kept his silence, but shot Ioha worried glances from time to time. Maybe he felt guilt, as if he and Harvali had a duty to protect their junior student from the harshness here.

  One village had something that resembled an inn but without rooms for rent. The innkeeper simply booted a couple of his kids out, and then his wife quickly made the beds for Ioha and Derina. The food, while tasteless, was warm and filling despite being mostly vegetables with parts of one animal or another hiding in the overcooked stew. Ioha looked at Derina who shook his head, and they silently agreed not to inquire further about exactly what animal had made its way into their food.

  In the morning, a stable-boy had their horses ready. Ioha dropped him a couple of copper coins for his trouble, and they were on the road again. Rain came and went, and back on Earth he’d have ripped all his clothes off, or maybe even not ripped them off before jumping into a stream they crossed at midday. Here he called upon his god, very clean, to Derina’s gratitude, and they simply refilled their water-bags and gave the horses their due while they wolfed down a package each with the remains of yesterday’s dinner.

  The afternoon offered them fields rather than forests, and at some time they passed an invisible border to the northernmost of the small principalities that hugged federation domains. This one, like most of the others, allied itself with either the federation to its north or one of the kingdoms to the south, depending on who currently displayed the most weaponry in the vicinity. It probably had a name as well, but as the next morning would see them inside the federation, it was faster not to ask.

  They spent the night in the capital, which translated into them being guests at the castle. Castle here meaning a large yellow brick building that began its life as a small manor, had two wings slapped onto it and was redesignated as a castle.

  The lord, an elderly, mild-mannered man, made his best to make Derina feel welcome and gave them the information they wanted about the carriage they pursued. Even though Ioha noticed Derina’s irritation about the non-interference, they both knew that the lord couldn’t hunt a carriage into a federation domain without risking an organised armed holiday to his own land in return.

  Shortly after breakfast, they reached the federation border, less than an hour’s ride from the small capital. It wasn’t as invisible as the previous one. Since they travelled by horse and carried no goods, they didn’t fall under the trade treaties. Both of them were detained on unclear grounds. They kept their armour and weapons, though. Federation law made a distinction between commoners and nobles. Knights counted as nobles when it came to the right to keep their armaments.

  “What is the meaning of this?” Derina asked the officer assigned to their room because, of course, they got a richly furnished room rather than a cell.

  “I have no information about the reason, Sir. I’m merely assigned as your guard on duty,” came the expected response.

  It was all very polite and apologetic, and even Ioha understood they wouldn’t be held for too long. Just long enough for the carriage they pursued to gain more of a lead, and thus make it harder to trace. It also told a story about how the lord or someone close had been bought off by Yoshida Akira. Autocracies were on average more corrupt than democracies, and a democracy was a novel concept in this world, Isekai being the novel one. The federation leaned more towards an oligarchy and should probably be seen as the very antithesis of corruption by the local standards, which meant corrupt as shit by any modern European definition.

  They were treated very well, never saw anyone in power, since Derina recognising who lay behind their detention would compromise that person, and were eventually profoundly apologised to for the unfortunate mistake and sent on their way when darkness fell, which of course forced them to start by finding an inn for the night.

  ***

  “West or north?”

  Derina fidgeted a little. Then he scribbled something on a paper, slid it to the bird-master and returned to his horse.

  “North,” he said. “West takes us almost to Haldenvale.”

  “And?”

  “Sir Ironsnake has been a welcome guest to the Wari house since before I was born. That goes for Miss Verina as well”

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  They aren’t married? Well, that wasn’t any of Ioha’s business. He sighed and mounted his horse. Both roads led to Wergaist in the end, and he simply couldn’t see the carriage having any other destination. By now, their chances to catch up with the carriage were all but zero. It would drop the victims somewhere in Wergaist, he’d come there with Derina representing the Wari house, and from there it would all devolve into either a huge diplomatic incident if things went well or an outright military intervention if they didn’t.

  He and Derina were in a hurry. Find the carriage, secure the hostage, kill everyone directly involved with the kidnapping and detonate the diplomatic incident. Simple. In theory.

  There were two of them. Ioha and Derina.

  Securing the hostage had to happen before the mayhem. And this posed a slight problem. They had to split up after they found the target. One doing the securing and one delivering the mayhem. Derina wouldn’t survive the mayhem on his own, and the hostage wouldn’t survive Ioha handling the securing.

  Well, just swap. Problem gone, right?

  Wrong.

  Mayhem attributed to the Wari house meant paying bribes to the council, and it was merely a huge scandal. Mayhem attributed to Sir Ioha Questingtank, Protector Saint of Heimdall inside federation territory, was the same as Isekai declaring war.

  That felt a bit iffy? What about sitting on their arses and wait until Harvali finally arrived with the caravan? It would work to a degree. The girls would be dead, as would everyone even remotely associated with Wergaist within a few hour’s range from wherever they were held hostage. Almina would be angry, and Derina made it abundantly clear that an angry Almina was an epically bad idea. Angry Almina was still not a militarily gifted Almina. Angry Almina would solve that by paying more money, a lot of more money. Wergaist would be wiped off the map, with an unknown number of neighbours as collateral damage.

  The last part had Ioha a little worried. Isekai lay half a day from the Wergaist capital. While he doubted Isekai would become collateral damage, he had absolutely no illusions about Isekai creating lots and lots of collateral damage themselves after they annihilated whatever force was sent their way.

  So waiting for Harvali was out of the question.

  ***

  They rode north, and Ioha mulled over their options. Right now, Isekai declaring war on the federation was the best one, but he had a suspicion Isjase wouldn’t be very happy about that.

  Their surroundings had changed the last two days. Rolling hills, with small forests competing with fields for space, gave way to a flatness Ioha remembered all too well. This was Wergaist, or at least very close. Wheat fields wherever he looked. Farms scattered across the landscape and the occasional tree was everything that broke the monotony apart from farmers walking or driving wagons on the road. They didn’t see a single rider.

  After another hour of wheat fields, Ioha had a sudden epiphany. On Earth, region wide monoculture came at a cost. That cost was paid by producing absurd amounts of fertiliser in the modern world, or in the case of Ireland during the mid-nineteenth century cutting the population by a quarter. There probably was nothing inherently wrong with the dead fields outside Spellsword Academy. The fields were just no longer suitable for wheat. Crop rotation, you idiots!

  “West!” Derina suddenly called out.

  Ioha looked ahead. The road continued north, but a narrow pathway servicing two fields ran west. He couldn’t follow it with his eyes. It lay partly hidden beneath the crops.

  “Sure about this?” Leading his packhorse would be a pain, and Ioha wasn’t too confident in his riding skills. “I’ll have to run, just so you know.”

  “We’re walking. I’m not suicidal.”

  Ioha sighed with relief and dismounted. An idiotically clean blessing later, they led their horses west. Now it was Ioha’s turn to slow down. Derina might be a superior horseman, but when it came to running absurd distances on foot, Ioha knew of no peers. They ran until Derina begged for mercy and grabbed something to eat while their horses grazed.

  “Where are we going,” Ioha asked when Derina finally regained his breath.

  “War or a working solution?”

  Constructive answer. Right! “What do you mean?”

  Derina grinned. “Prefer a nice little war or an actually working solution?”

  “Eh, working solution?”

  “Then the great Derina Wari will create one!” The grin grew wider.

  Ioha leaned back on his backpack and waited. Derina had very few occasions for his theatricals on their way north, and right now might be a good time to let him blow off some steam.

  “It only takes the two of us to start a war.” He leaned closer and whispered loud enough to be heard to the federation capital. “What do you think six of us could do?”

  A full party? What’s he up to? “I’m listening.”

  “We need to find us some friends, and I know where to find them.”

  Going west meant reaching the mountain-range in one or two days. Crossing it, they’d enter Haldenvale, which offered them the opportunity to start a war with a third party. “I’m still listening,” Ioha said, and regretted it.

  “Two hours. Two more hours.” Derina rose and went for his horse.

  Ioha grumbled silently, but he did the same. A few minutes later, they ran between fields again.