LETTER 2

Miss March—

Regardless of the desperate urgency with which I wrote my last letter, I have come today with news of what seems to be the first crisis to impend on the horizons of our beloved Kingdom. And it began, as unfortunately as always, with a display of goodwill for the noblest of intentions.

I believe it is prudent to begin by first exploring the background.

As of the writing of this letter, Sir Tanaka came into this world through a Secret Art performed, should my news sources be correct, approximately one year, seven months, and three weeks ago. I have not been able to pin the exact date, and that is probably by design. The Holy Empire has never been particularly lenient about their information.

In all his travels until the defeat of the Demon King a little over six months ago, Sir Tanaka came into contact with countless people, but found that there was one particular system entrenched in our society that his world no longer acknowledges, a system that he has an oddly strong position against, even apart from his very evident opinions regarding the ruling class—a system that all Kingdoms on the land have learned to rely on.

A system called slavery.

The presence of the former slave Little Miss Karin in our Mansion should provide sufficient context if you feel so inclined to draw your theories, but allow me to confirm: Sir Tanaka did not, does not, and probably never will, take kindly to slavery.

His anxiety was not unfounded. Although Lenamontis pioneered the enactment of protective laws for slaves, these have always been driven by the interests of efficiency. Dead slaves provide no work, after all, and they were not precisely cheap to purchase; not until the Demon King was defeated, which finally allowed mankind to turn the rest of its lingering hatred upon itself once again. In the era where demonic attacks were prevalent and floods of miasma could come at any given time, slaves—by debt, by capture, or by causes of war—were our best bet at actually keeping our houses standing, our economies running, and our manpower properly spread.

Lenamontis, with all its flaunted slave protection laws, was no exception to this.

Sir Tanaka first encountered a slave during the very beginning of his very first travel, back when the Kingdom had just entrusted him with the very basic training sword to start his journey to get better acquainted with these lands. The encounter was quick, but apparently left an impression on him: a slaver had cargo of a young child, a boy probably a little younger than I was, who attempted to escape his chains. The slaver, who did not appreciate the attempt, responded with a befitting physical punishment—a strong yank on the collar and a single beating to his buttocks.

As he told me afterwards, Sir Tanaka felt deep disgust.

His body moved before his mind did. Before he knew what happened, he had stopped the slaver’s slap, protecting the slave. The anger he felt was overwhelming, clouding his own memory of the events, so the following retelling is my interpretation of what happened, compiled from multiple sources—from Sir Tanaka’s own recount to recorded eyewitness reports.

Sir Tanaka fought. In fact, it was his first proper fight in this world. He fought purely by instinct, it seems, because not even the person in question remembered what he had done under the circumstances. While he was armed with a sword by the King, he seemed to have fought unarmed. One eyewitness mentioned seeing him use a knife, but other eyewitnesses disagreed; on the other hand, the slaver was most certainly armed with a whip.

The slaver attempted to strike Sir Tanaka for obstructing him, but Sir Tanaka swiftly stopped his strike as he did previously; this apparently angered the slaver, who threatened to call the Executor Legis to discipline him, as Sir Tanaka technically meddled in his business affairs. Sir Tanaka—who at that time probably never heard of the Executor Legis, our Enforcers—provided no response. This was agreed upon by all eyewitness accounts.

The slaver then unleashed his whip, telling his subordinate to notify the Executor Legis, and struck in the general direction of both his slave and Sir Tanaka. Sir Tanaka did not respond to the whip, but instead struck at the slaver’s arm.

Before the whip could come down on him with full force, the weapon had fallen to the ground.

A very loud crack was heard, but it was not the sound of whiplash.

The very next moment, the slaver was kneeling on the ground, screaming; all eyewitnesses agreed that he was crying and holding his right arm, his seeming dominant arm, in pain. A good number of eyewitnesses contrasted the short, lanky stature of Sir Tanaka to the large, bulky appearance of the slaver now wailing in front of him, whip unseen; right arm bruised, broken, and twisted in the wrong direction.

Everybody could only gasp.

Something was wrong with this picture. Disciplining a slave who attempted to escape was a lawful action. The Regulations mentioned that it allowed ‘sufficient action of disciplinary measure’ in the case a slave was found to act in ‘ways unbecoming’, including, among others, ‘unwarranted disagreements, harmful conduct, or activities with intent to escape’. The Court of Plebeians had a long argument with the Magistratus to reduce what was considered ‘sufficient’, but all Tribunals agreed that a slave’s attempt to escape should be punishable. After all, there were many circumstances that could lead one to become a slave, including punishment for criminal acts.

Not even the Court of Plebeians wanted a criminal to be released back into society without a form of reasonable reprimand that would prevent them from harming people again.

I suspect, however, that Sir Tanaka was oblivious to our Regulations. Even today! And I would not blame him, as his own country back in his world apparently ran on a very different set of constitutions that he himself was only familiar with up to a limited extent. He asserted that he used to be a Plebeian, a commoner, since there were no more nobles in his world—and everyone had different levels of understanding regarding their own laws, much like here. Although, if I were to defend my position, my father had long dug the Regulations into my head since I was very young. I remember him mentioning that it was your advice to do so, Miss March. I have you to thank for this.

All in all, what Sir Tanaka had done was most definitely an obstruction to a legal action, but an obstruction to something legal doesn’t necessarily make that obstruction illegal—disciplining a slave was something that was allowed, not something mandatory.

The slaver’s subordinate returned with three Executor Legis, as the slaver promised, and they were met with the sight of the slaver’s deformed arm and Sir Tanaka standing before him. Despite their initial shock, it seems that they returned to form rather quickly and announced as per due procedure: they announced their presence, their power as Executor Legis, and required Sir Tanaka to comply. Boldly, Sir Tanaka answered that he would only comply if the safety of the slave before him was guaranteed; the Executor Legis quickly agreed. And thus, after his very first form of combat in this world, our Hero was brought back home in chains.

It did not take long until the Castle heard of Sir Tanaka being secured by Executor Legis. I was still in Constantius at that time, so I did not see it with my own eyes, but according to my friends in the Castle, apparently the King even pressed His temples and shook His head in frustration. In front of His whole Court! The King always kept His image, He rarely ever slipped like this. One of the Miracles granted unto Sir Tanaka was the ability to naturally understand our tongue, and us his, without feeling any oddities or discrepancies, as if we’ve always spoken each other’s languages all along … this might have lowered the King’s guard as to how distinct and different Sir Tanaka’s common sense was to ours.

The King Himself secured Sir Tanaka from the Enforcers’ hold, but soon realized the problem: there would be nobody here left to teach Sir Tanaka the ways of our world. Sir Tanaka would have to navigate everything on his own, grow stronger by his own insistence, but what would happen if he came into the same trouble he just did? He was lucky that this occurred in Lenamontis. What if he were in a harsher kingdom, like the Land of Diutiscus? There would be no higher power to bail him out. In fact, in the time Sir Tanaka was active in Diutiscus, the sort of troubles he got into … well, let’s just say, he did not end his visit on good terms with the kingdom’s royals at the time.

(Given the issue I’m writing to you about, Miss March, I think I’ll have to tell you of his exploits there someday—but for now, his first fight.)

This little fight was what first brought to the King’s attention a couple of things. The first was, as I mentioned, the very severe difference of common sense between our world and Sir Tanaka’s, and how this could lead to legitimate problems. The second was more of a consequence, and had to do with why Sir Tanaka would be a problem to begin with: the fact that Sir Tanaka was so strong.

He was just freshly summoned. He had just been briefed, made to be very recently conscious of the fact that he had been forcefully transferred from his old world into a new one. He had just started breathing our air and walking our grounds. He was given only the most rudimentary of weapons, and he came from a world in peacetime: a world where a man as young as he, as young as I, would not be forcefully drafted into the nation’s military just to provide any form of defense for the people who needed it due to constant and continuous worldwide invasion by powers inhuman.

He had never even held a sword until he was given the simple iron sword by the King, and, by his own admission, had never in his life fought before then.

All that, and he still moved faster than a whip with a force that destroyed bones.

It seemed like the King’s decision to only give him a typical iron sword rather than requesting the Holy Empire to reveal the location of the Divine Blade was good and proper. I couldn’t imagine the strength Sir Tanaka would have used had he been equipped with the Divine Blade.

In short, the King was faced with a conundrum: the world needed Sir Tanaka. His display of strength proved it. The Goddess Herself also Revealed as much. The Alliance agreed on a joint Summoning ritual specifically because the High Priestess delivered this message, and Lenamontis was given the role of hosting Sir Tanaka due to a number of reasons—robust logistic routes, variation of zones, proximity to demons, abundance of resources, relative stability in the Capitol, and so on, and so forth.

But if we let Sir Tanaka be, there would be no end of troubles coming his way that would trouble not just Sir Tanaka himself, but possibly every kingdom in the Alliance, too.

The King needed a way to keep Sir Tanaka guided as he trained and immersed himself in our world, at least until he was judged worthy by the Divine Blade.

So, he needed support.

Enter Lady Colette de Maximillia.

While she still shared her surname with the King, Lady Maximillia happened to be from a very distant branch of His family. They were indeed related, but Lady Maximillia had long been given the reins to her own life—such a distance their relation was that not even Her Ladyship’s family was worried that she would ever be involved in the succession disputes of the Throne and the Crown.

She was young—maybe around a year older than I was, and a year younger than Sir Tanaka. She found her interest in the arcane, and she had long dedicated herself to the study and application of those arts. As it happened, she was also a terrific communicator, and she was so deeply immersed in her own interests that she was very easygoing about everything else, making her the perfect friend for anybody.

Even if that ‘anybody’ came from another world.

By the time the King processed securing Sir Tanaka, He had already taken a step forward to arrange for Lady Maximillia to come to the Castle. His planning was impeccable: by the time Sir Tanaka was cleared by the Magistratus, Lady Maximillia had arrived at the Castle and was already briefed about the situation. The girl in question, hearing of her future predicament, was surprisingly more than ready to assist.

“No honor is greater!” she proclaimed with beaming eyes to an audience of everyone in the Royal Court. “So where is this Hero you speak of, Your Kingship?”

The pair became very fast friends.

One of my little heartbreaks during my life in the Mansion was when Sir Tanaka finally opened up to me about his first love since he came into this world, and it was Lady Maximillia’s name who came out of his mouth. It was by no means love at first sight, but he admitted to being taken by her beauty, by the purity in her eyes, by her youthful stride and spirited little hops. By her short blonde hair, by how she twisted her hems a little when she tilted her head to beg for something. By her devil-may-care attitude that put her so far from Castle life to begin with, and by her unending passion for Magic.

Lady Maximillia—or Miss Colette, as she had personally asked me to call her—was a wonderful young lady, and I fully understand why Sir Tanaka fell for her. And I myself fell for Sir Tanaka, so I understand why she eventually fell for him, too.

Miss Colette was the first to accompany Sir Tanaka. With her help, Sir Tanaka managed to avoid problems for the most part until he entered the first frontier, the forestry waiting outside Lenamontis. As you taught me, Miss March, Lenamontis was a name that came about because our own people could not afford to constantly say Regnum ab Montibus, The Kingdom by the Mountains, an apt description of where our Capitol was located. Our walls were made in the plains surrounded by fertile lands, housing where water was near; our mountains gave us our springs, our timber, our walls, and our beasts for our feed. It was the perfect place for all living things to grow—including wild beasts.

By fighting against the beasts roaming in the deep woods, Sir Tanaka was learning to handle animals and monsters that run on pure instinct. Miss Colette was there to show him the way and guide his growth.

And they had not come into contact with any slaves since—Miss Colette was explicitly instructed by her mother, as an extension for her sister, as an extension for her brother-in-law, as an extension for his brother, the King, to not let Sir Tanaka meet a slave. It would be impossible to do for all circumstances, of course, but it was … strongly suggested, so to speak, that Sir Tanaka never again see another slave, or anyone connected with slavery.

Naturally, as his quest progressed, it grew increasingly difficult. The more people Sir Tanaka met, and the more places he traveled, it became glaringly obvious that he was bound to see people build structures, farm plants, or perform all sorts of public menial work—all with the services of slaves. But it did work for a fair while. For a good amount of time, Sir Tanaka forgot about the slaves; or, at least, he noticed their existence but learned to push that knowledge to the back of his mind. He had not pushed for any active contact, except when it was necessary. He would take down some rings here and there, but only very rarely, and he never got caught again.

What I did not expect was that he decided to finally act on the thoughts he’d pushed back almost directly after he took down the Demon King.

In the past six months, apart from notices from my marches every now and then about the development of circumstances in my dukedom, I started collecting reports of Sir Tanaka’s little outings. He was not monitored by the ninja or anything, although we did have ninjas dispatched to keep him safe—we had to be ready to deploy and help at any given time should he come to legitimate danger, although it’s very hard to imagine—but every crime scene spoke for itself. Hints of massive destruction that would have not been possible without great control of Arts, no hint of Magics being used, no known Spirit Arts user in the vicinity … which pointed to the likelihood of a Miracle being used, and only three people alive I personally know of could utilize Miracles. Only one could cause damage of such scale.

Oh, and from each crime scene, due to the attacks, a large number of slaves escaped. A massive majority of them have yet to be recovered.

Sir Tanaka was not being subtle about this.

For the record, I do not hate what he wanted to do. He came from a world that functioned well not only without nobility, but also without slavery. No person could ever again be bought their worth in money, because each person is valued as a human being, he said. I could only imagine such a world, but the idea itself was wonderful.

However, a great many number of people with sway could not sit on their idle hands as these attacks kept happening. The first two months of attacks were relatively discreet, but the attacks in the last two have escalated. There were even attacks in broad daylight, some of them with the assistance of other slaves or freed slaves, they said.

The nobles are agitated. The merchants, too. And that isn’t good, because with the defeat of the Demon King, the nobles have begun relying even more on the merchants to maintain their activities, including the movement of assets in the form of manpower—that is, to say, slaves.

The nobles were rarely ever monolithic, even under the threat of the demons, and merchants could only think about whatever option would be the most profitable. The nobles have been using the merchants to get them what they need, and merchants have been using the nobles to keep the cash flow steady. Their relationship was always, historically, purely instrumental.

So now that the merchants banded together, with the backing of the nobles? This is not going to go down pretty.

I need to somehow convince Sir Tanaka that there’s a better way. But we have former slaves in our midst—even disregarding some of the maids and butlers serving the Mansion, Little Miss Karin was a former slave. So was Heiress Cathubodua, the Heiress of the Caturix name and Heiress to the Ferae, the union of the beastpeople. So was Miss Artia, her bosom sister and primary handmaiden. In fact, Sir Tanaka only truly put his attack on slavery on a near full-stop after our heavy struggle in recovering Heiress Cathubodua and Miss Artia, because too many powers were going after the two catwomen and Sir Tanaka would have been derailed from his quest otherwise—by focusing more on the pursuit of demons, Sir Tanaka aided in their escape, and the beastpeople were drawn to our struggle also.

Of the three women I named—Little Miss Karin, Heiress Cathubodua, and Miss Artia—Little Miss Karin and Heiress Cathubodua are engaged to Sir Tanaka.

(Sir Tanaka has his own reservations about the situation with Little Miss Karin, but I will explain this at another opportunity.)

I don’t think he would appreciate me stopping his campaign against slavery when at least two of his loved ones are former slaves who had faced the horrors of being slaves. I don’t think I would appreciate myself stopping his campaign when at least two of my beloved friends are former slaves who had faced the horrors of being slaves.

Miss March, what should I do?

What can I do?

How do I convince my beloved that his actions are hurting us, but without discouraging his cause because—somewhere in my heart, whenever I gaze upon the tiny frame of young Karin, or the brusque musculature of Miss Cath’s figure—I still wish that he would succeed?

How do we sail this storm and come out of it alive?

With warm regards,
Charlotte Valeria de Constantia,
Ducal House Constantius, Kingdom of Lenamontis.

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