In the forests south of the Wessin Bridge, a haze of morning light flickered between the vibrant leaves.
Seeking ever to revitalise itself upon , the sun burned brightly overhead, shalessly absorbing the glow from my skin without so much as a gold crown tossed into my bottomless pouch as paynt.
It wasn’t the only thing to do so.
All around , Mother Nature basked in my presence. And that included all of her children.
Wild boars dug their tusks into the soil. Packs of young wolves frolicked amidst the tufts of grass. Giant spiders weaved webs of silk only to lounge upon them like hammocks. And fruit slis bounced like gelatinous bunnies, ever in search of discarded waterlon rinds.
Creatures so common that as Apple leisurely trotted along the dirt trail, he neither paused nor slowed.
Which was normal even if they were man eating fire breathing death beetles or common drunks. Except that this ti, he didn’t even spare a thought towards a dismissive snort.
Like a dragon to a lamb, he viewed even the wolves which usually preyed upon horses as the unworthy adversaries they were.
As a royal steed, Apple understood that he was only permitted to be cowed by my displeasure whenever his mane defied all attempts to smoothen it out.
With one exception.
Indeed … there was one thing Apple knew to fear.
It was the sa thing I did.
A creature so terrifying that even as a princess, my hands could only grip tightly around Apple’s reins, ready to urge him into the gallop only the greatest peril could force. And while a guild receptionist thankfully hadn’t yet showed up, those who they dealt with had.
“Yaaah … !”
“I … I got you!”
“Y-You’re not getting away!”
Yes.
Those in the category just above fruit slis. Pests so weak they were barely worthy of a passing glance.
Brand new adventurers.
My hands went to my mouth.
They should have gone to my eyes instead.
Here and there, I saw a flash of copper amidst the edges of the forest, so close to the road that if they succumbed to the fruit slis they were bullying, a passing traveller would need to deliberately expend effort in order to ignore them.
More concerning were the budding heroes amongst the new recruits.
Young n and won still with the mud from their morning farming session upon their faces. Each was equipped in their finest hand--downs. Loosely fitting linen with pads of quilted armour and rusted knives considerably less sharp than the looks of concentration upon their faces.
They sprinted all the sa, chasing after the wolves idly flicking their tails towards them as they effortlessly bounded away. Crucial training for when the tabby cats escaped from their hands.
I was horrified.
“This … This is awful,” I said, my gasp barely escaping through my fingers.
Beside , Coppelia looked up with a tilt of her head. And also an apple strudel in her mouth.
“Mmh~? I think it’s pretty good, though? Crunchy but fluffy. Buttery without being heavy.”
“What? No, I’m not referring to the apple strudel … or rather, I am, it’s below par. There’s neither enough apple nor strudel. Just like there isn’t enough of a reason to explain them ... why, these are doubtless new adventurers littering my woods!”
“Yeah.” Coppelia blinked at . “Adventurers. They’re the worst. I hear they blow things up all the ti.”
“Exactly. They cause nothing but trouble and have the lack of self-awareness to even admit it. It is shaless. Even now, they diligently remove the small critters and low level monsters threatening the traders who use this busy road … Truly, it is a terrible sight.”
“Eeeeeeeh … but isn’t that a good thing? Safer roads ans happier peasants, right?”
I fervently shook my head.
If only things were so simple.
“With each fruit sli punted away by sothing other than a gentle breeze, the Adventurer’s Guild as a whole grows more confident. What my kingdom gains in increased security, quality of life and economic confidence is absolutely nothing compared to the most important thing of all–our reputation. If word spreads that adventurers are responsible for shooing away fruit slis, everyone would lose confidence in our guards. Hence, the kingdom always refuses the guild’s offers. That is a task solely for us to manage.”
Coppelia humd, her eyes glancing to the corner of the sky.
“You know, now that I think about it, I actually don’t see a lot of common monsters in your forests. It’s mostly just the super dangerous stuff I never tell you about.”
“Ohohoho … why, of course.” I placed my hand upon my chest and smiled, my mood brightened at once. “Not only are the roads regularly patrolled, but my family directly and loudly employs hunters, wardens and foresters as well.”
“Uwah~ that actually sounds like sothing normal royalty would do!”
“C-Coppelia?! My family represents the gold standard for royalty! Why, we are what others strive to be!”
My semi-loyal handmaiden giggled, her voice sohow heard over the indignation of my every ancestor.
“I an, it’s true you guys have been around for ages. That’s super impressive. Most royalty kick the bucket to a coup, a family feud or an invasion pretty early on. But you’ve lasted pretty much since the beginning. No matter what people say, your family is definitely doing sothing right.”
“E-Excuse ? Who are these … people? And what do they say, exactly?”
“... Nothing.”
“Coppelia!!”
“I an, it’s nothing which isn’t objectively true. You know. Like things catching fire around here. All the ti. So much fire. Lookie–even the place we’re going to was on fire!”
I pursed my lips.
“There’s a mitigating factor for everything,” I declared. “And when the woman who is evading us has a penchant for throwing fireballs, we most certainly have an excuse for why everything catches fire.”
Indeed!
Whatever slander was spoken about us, it was nothing but the envy of our enemies.
Why, given that a certain town alchemist had sohow earned herself the fabled title of The Witch Of Calamity (self-declared), being comnted on regarding any resulting fires was the sa as being tutted at for having lots of burning barns while a dragon was attacking.
And between the two, I wasn’t certain which I’d prefer.
Neither filled with confidence regarding their soap making skills. Not unless I wanted everything charred.
In the near distance, the burned remains of a tower highlighted the necessity of the task ahead.
It was so scorched that against the bright sky it appeared like a nacing blot of spilled ink. That was unacceptable. There was only one place such a blackened silhouette was appropriate, and that was an island where a bespoke obsidian castle was being built by a goblin architect.
Given Miss Lainsfont’s talents, I was certain she could be involved in the finishing process.
Thus–I gave a confident nod.
“Fortunately, there’s always room to make ands. Whatever her devastating powers of awakened calamity can do, I intend to make appropriate use of it. Perhaps I’ll task her with permanently shooing away the wild boars and fruit slis from the edges of my forests. Goodness knows it’s needed.”
Coppelia bead in response, her skipping becoming slightly more animated at the thought of proportionate justice.
“True, there’s no better way to use soone who can throw fireballs than forest managent. That’s why we have the fire elental from the review departnt also in charge of the treants. But what happens if there’s sothing bigger than a wild boar or a fruit sli?”
“Well, I suppose that depends.”
“On what?”
“On whether or not it’s still hibernating by the ti spring is officially over.”
Suddenly, Apple ca to a stop.
The sound of a small river filled the air. The surface glead beneath the sunlight as it rrily coursed across the trail, just deep and wide enough to demand its own little wooden bridge.
A bridge currently blocked.
However, while I had no doubt that I could encourage my loyal steed to traverse any obstacle in our path, I had even less doubt that this particular obstacle would voice disapproval over it.
Because there in front of us … was a bear.
A very large, very brown and very fluffy bear.
The very picture of an apex woodland predator.
Gleaming fur. A button nose. Razor sharp claws. And enough mass that despite not possessing the ability to breathe fire, spew poison or drain the blood of its foes like its more exotic rivals, it had very little trouble carving a ho for itself in the depths of any forest.
… And it was sleeping in the middle of the bridge.
Just like that.
This was a problem.
But not for .
“Fwwwwpttt.”
Instead … it was a problem for the man who this bear belonged to.
Unshaven. Unkempt. And with hair almost as shaggy as Apple’s mane.
Drinking from a hip flask, he sat against a tree just a few paces away from the bridge and its very large occupant.
Dressed in a weathered cloak and hood which may have once been green and leather so worn that it was now the sa hue as the soil, he could easily have been lost against the backdrop of the forest.
A powerful advantage for a highwayman. The yew bow by his side was so large that he could have loosed an arrow from deep behind a blueberry bush and none would know.
There was only one indication he wasn’t a forest vagrant. And it certainly wasn’t the hip flask.
Rather … it was the fact that several stacks of parchnt were lying around him.
More was in his lap as he scribbled away, pausing only to sip from whatever mystery drink he needed to get through the day.
I raised an eyebrow.
How quaint.
I hadn’t even voiced my complaint and he was already writing an apology.
With a tug on Apple’s reins, I approached the man and offered a polite smile.
“Salutations. My apologies, but I cannot help but notice that there is a bear here. Is this your bear?”
The man looked up. He returned the smile, nodded, then went back to his scribbling.
“Nope,” he said after a mont.
My smile twitched.
“This isn't your bear? … The bear that you’re sitting only a handful of steps from?”
“Moka isn’t my bear. I don’t own her. She’s my companion.”
“I see. You’ve an animal companion. So you’re a ranger of so very stereotypical description. Wonderful. In that case, could you please ask your … associate to move? This is a public bridge and the bear is blocking the way.”
“Can’t do that. Sorry.”
“Why can’t you do that … ?”
The man stopped scribbling.
He glanced around himself, then swept away a pile of leaves covering a wooden sign also by his side. He stuck it into the ground almost like an afterthought.
No Rangers, No Wilderness
Fair Pay For Fair Work
“I’m on strike,” he said calmly, before resuming his writing.
My smile only brightened in response, all the while Coppelia imdiately began stepping away.
That was only natural.
She may as well continue going forwards.
After all, this was going to be a very brief conversation.
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