Why the Dog Kingdom Fell

♪ Growl (present) ♪

After finishing my construction work, I headed to my usual tavern. People bustled about in good spirits. Ever since instrumental magic had been invented, more and more towns had grown economically prosperous, and everywhere was in the middle of a construction boom.

Apparently some “Rabbit Kingdom Centennial Parade” was going to borrow part of the facilities near this town, and to make the deadline, they were working on an insane schedule—laboring deep into the night in the dark. This place seemed to have only the flimsiest notion of safety management.

After my night shift, I twitched my dog ears and sat down in my usual seat at the tavern, then placed my order.

“Old man. One tomato juice. And a piping hot pot-au-feu.”

“Comin’ right up.”

The sound of the master pouring the tomato juice was pleasant. I sniffed at it. It had the scent of real earth.

“You’re a hard worker, Growl. Not many young people these days are willing to do physical labor. I’m impressed.”

“It’s not like the old days, carrying lumber and steel beams by hand. That’s what tuba magic is for.”

I used to have a complex about only being able to use vocal magic, but somehow, if you just try, you can make it work.

“Even so, that’s impressive. Construction-use tubas are expensive, aren’t they? Plenty of people around here would like one, but not many can scrape together the money. Some even go into debt for it.”

“Well, I come from a fairly decent family, despite how I look. On this worksite too, the ones who can handle tuba magic tend to be second or third sons of landlords—rowdy types from wealthy households who are in a weak position when it comes to inheritance.”

“Huh. Speaking of which, I heard your homeland, the Dog Kingdom, went through a rough time too.”

Before I knew it, I had shot the old man a glare. I meant to keep my feelings under control, but my killing intent must have shown.

“Ah—s-sorry. Was that something I shouldn’t have said?”

“Don’t worry about it. More importantly, is that pot-au-feu ready yet?”

“My bad.”

The old man hurried off into the kitchen.

The other customers around me started whispering. When humans whisper, their voices get higher. High-pitched voices are a golden opportunity for dog ears like mine. It was basically the same as asking me to listen in.

“So what happened to the Dog Kingdom?”

“You don’t know? It ended in a huge civil war over a struggle for the throne between brothers. And that invited foreign intervention.”

“What do you mean by foreign intervention?”

“Foreign powers trying to take over the country while it’s in chaos. If a country’s got the seeds of civil war inside it, they back one side or both, sell favors and weapons, drag things into war, make the country dependent on outsiders—and before you know it, the whole nation’s been taken over. I think one of the brothers was named Growl… ah!”

“Idiot! Like a former prince would be hanging around a place like this!”

“Either way, better not dig too deep into it, same as the old man. Bad luck, bad luck.”

The drunkards who had been drinking since morning seemed to clear out after that.

I took a gulp of my tomato juice. It slid down my throat just fine, but I couldn’t taste a thing.

That’s right. I was once called Growl, First Prince of the Dog Kingdom. After a succession struggle with my younger brother, Howl, it turned into a full-blown war. Pathetic as it is, the whole kingdom ended up on the verge of dissolution. They were absolutely right.

If I hadn’t let myself be shackled by that stupid pride, it never would have come to this. If I hadn’t been bound by the petty pride of the male vocal magic world. Damn it.

I was raised under elite training in male vocal magic. The Dog Kingdom, with its old-fashioned traditions, sent me abroad to study at a Classical School academy called Ars Prima.

But even within the world of vocal magic, which people now call outdated, the Classical School was regarded as especially obsolete as a field of study.

Reading old and new texts, training in classical scores and manuscripts, rigorous diaphragm breathing and physical conditioning, reciting the musical scriptures aloud. They drilled fundamentals that did absolutely nothing to help with actual spellcasting.

It was a discipline that had already lost its authority and fallen into decline long before instrumental magic ever appeared.

Even in vocal magic, for over a hundred years the mainstream had belonged to the so-called Neoclassical School—practical studies centered on pronunciation guides for old texts and voice training directly useful for magic.

I couldn’t even count how many times the Neoclassical crowd mocked us.

And when instrumental magic began to rise, the first ones put directly in the line of fire to be discarded were us Classical School types. Because of that, the tide turned toward my younger brother Howl—who had studied instrumental magic—as the rightful heir.

But all of that is in the past now. I’m nothing more than a common laborer.

Well, thanks to all those years of training at the academy, I did at least gain the lung capacity to withstand playing the tuba. For that much, I should probably be grateful.

Apparently there’s some similar family power struggle brewing here in the Rabbit Kingdom too. And this second prince they call Poet—I just can’t stand the guy. If I ever met him, I’d give him a piece of my mind.

Strutting around like some carefree free spirit, wandering wherever he pleases on some easygoing journey? Give me a break. Try putting yourself in the citizens’ shoes. When people are anxious out of their minds about what tomorrow will bring, the last thing they need is some irresponsible prince drifting around wherever he likes.

Just as the steaming pot-au-feu was brought over and I was about to take a bite, I heard someone crying loudly for help.

“Someone! Please, someone! Is there anyone here with a keen nose? I’m looking for someone! I need you to track them down from this scent!”

A beautiful dragonfolk woman stood there with a desperate look on her face. She was my type, appearance-wise. A bit too timid-looking for my personal taste, maybe—but even so, she was tempting.