The Red Lamp of Lacorinto
The autumn rain had turned the swamp into a lake.
Two days southwest of the city of Terbui, Roberta arrived at the wandering swamp with five companions, riding on horseback.
When leaving the city, Roberta had assumed the swamp would be muddy ground. The swamps she had encountered before were places where one's feet sank deep into sludge, not places filled with water, so she expected this wandering swamp to be the same.
But when they arrived, water had filled the entrance of the swamp, leaving no path. According to the fairy Vermelani, there was originally a road crossing the swamp, but it seemed to have been submerged by the rain.
"We'll need to find a boat."
Ulrich said this as he stood at the edge of the swamp and dipped his hand into the water. Before doing so, he had been holding a branch taller than himself. Yet even when he submerged his arm up to the elbow, the tip of the branch failed to touch the bottom.
After walking along the edge of the swamp for quite some time, they finally found a boat. It was narrow—about the width of an adult man—and long, roughly seven times its width.
Beside the boat lay a single, extremely long oar. It was so long it could easily be mistaken for a pikeman's weapon.
Ulrich examined the boat, then grabbed the oar and stepped onto the stern.
"It'll be difficult to handle with just one oar."
Inquisitor Beatrice said.
"It's fine. I've handled this plenty of times."
As he pushed the water left and right with the oar, which was longer than his height, the boat began to move forward—slowly, yet smoothly. Beatrice let out a soft sound of admiration.
"…You're quite skilled."
"I used to earn money doing this."
"Were you a fisherman?"
"I've been one before. I've also done some hospitality work."
Hospitality?
Roberta blinked at the unexpected answer.
"Pardon? Brother, hospitality… on a boat?"
"A boat like this is called a gondola. They're commonly used in the southern regions. There are many water cities there, so boats are essential for transportation."
Ulrich paused briefly as he rowed.
"And you all should know—those southern regions preserve much of our history. So many pilgrims come, and there's plenty of soliciting aimed at them. In my case, I carried them around to famous sites."
In other words, he had worked as a tour guide.
Understanding this, Roberta let out a quiet "Hmm," imagining him guiding pilgrims through landmarks.
"…Did people respond well?"
He gave a bitter smile.
"No."
As expected, Roberta also smiled wryly.
Until now, Ulrich had never lied to her when speaking of his past. Nor had he exaggerated. If he didn't want to speak, he simply stayed silent.
Judging by what she knew of his personality, he must have treated the pilgrims the same way—telling them only what he could, exactly as it was.
The pilgrims, who likely saw him as nothing more than a boatman, must have reacted as if they were hearing nonsense. Much like how Roberta had been corrected about the sacraments shortly after her assignment to Dithmarschen.
"Still, judging by your rowing, you must have done it for quite a while?"
Beatrice asked.
"There were plenty of pilgrims."
He added that, even if the earnings were poor, it had been enjoyable in its own way.
"Then why not try getting back into that mindset?"
"Hm. That time, you say."
The boat continued forward as he rowed. Under the gloomy sky left behind by the rain, the swamp's water level had risen high, giving everything a gray hue.
In the distance to either side, dense conifer trees stood half-submerged up to their waists. The reeds and cattails that should have surrounded them were submerged up to their heads.
It was a landscape where no trace of civilization could be seen.
After gazing at it for a while, Ulrich finally spoke.
"You are aware that this place used to be the land of fairies."
Beatrice nodded.
"At that time, it wasn't a swamp but flat land. Did you know that?"
"No. That's new to me."
According to him, the wandering swamp had originally been firm, level ground where fairies settled. Its beginning dated back to when the gods still dwelled in the heavens, and it continued until the end of the age of fairies.
"The reason the plains became a swamp was war. When the last fairy kingdom, Lacorinto, fought against the Empire, they dug moats around the central area to defend it."
Beatrice furrowed her brow.
"Is that a joke?"
"Why would I joke about something like this?"
Ulrich answered calmly, but Beatrice still looked unconvinced. The idea that such a vast swamp originated from defensive moats sounded absurd.
"That's—"
Just as she was about to refute him, something leapt out of the water. In an instant, Ulrich reached out and caught it.
What he held was a fish. It had a long, rounded body like an eel, with silver scales and sharp teeth.
The creature flailed, snapping its teeth as it tried to escape his grip. Ulrich struck its head with the oar in his other hand and tossed it onto the deck.
"What the—things like this live in a swamp?"
Elias nudged the limp fish with his forepaw.
"It's a monster. Born from the influence of the demonic realm."
Ulrich resumed rowing.
"The influence is still recent, so only small monsters like this exist for now. But back when the fairies of Lacorinto dug those moats, there were far more formidable ones."
Soon, the surface of the water around the boat rippled, and splashes erupted from all directions. A swarm of eel-like monsters leapt toward them.
The five who had been seated quickly stood up in alarm, causing the boat to lurch. At that, Ulrich immediately shifted his weight in the opposite direction to balance it and swung the oar in a wide arc.
"Back then, they weren't monsters of the demonic realm, but creatures raised by the fairies. Some were so large they could wrap around warships and crush them. It makes you think that dealing with demonic monsters like these is actually the better option."
Soon, the deck was piled high with monsters, like a boat filled with its catch.
"…They're not still alive, are they?"
Elias asked with an uneasy expression. Though he had bravely persuaded his guardian in Terbui to join the journey, it seemed creatures from the water still frightened him.
"No need to worry."
"Well… that's a relief, then. But how did the Empire manage to conquer this place?"
"They built a road."
According to Ulrich, the place Vermelani had referred to as the "crossing path" was actually a causeway built to cross the moat and reach land.
"With no way to launch ships, there was only one answer. Even if it took a long time, they had to fill in the moat and create a road. And after advancing step by step over several years, they finally reached the fortress walls."
After such a prolonged siege, the land lost its original form and became what is now known as the wandering swamp.
"Could that be the wall you're talking about?"
Roberta pointed toward a patch of land visible between the conifer trees.
In the distance, a vine-covered wall could be seen.
"No, that's an outer fortress. Lacorinto had several smaller strongholds within the moat. That fortress was used by the Empire as an intermediate base while they were constructing the causeway."
The fortress appeared to sit on an isolated island. The rising water level of the swamp had submerged the land around the hill it stood on.
"If we're lucky, it might still be there."
Ulrich muttered to himself.
The boat reached the edge of the hill. The group did not disembark immediately, instead examining the fortress walls. Weathered by long years, they were covered in vines and moss, with parts of them collapsed.
Roberta focused on the gaps in the broken wall. Heightening her senses, she placed a hand on the hilt of her sword and took a step forward.
At that moment, Vermelani raised her hand to stop her.
A fairy's senses are sharper than a human's. As if detecting something the others could not, Vermelani drew her bow and aimed at a section of the wall.
"Who goes there?"
From beyond the wall, a deep voice answered.
"Bel?"
At that reply, Vermelani lowered her bow.
Through the broken wall, four figures emerged.
"My lord?"
"Ah, Ganymeas!"
Roberta looked toward the middle-aged man among them, who strode forward calling the name of a god.
He had a thick beard and bloodshot eyes. Spreading his arms wide, he approached Vermelani.
"To think I'd see you here."
The two embraced.
"I suppose there's no need to ask if you're unharmed, Count."
"Ha! Indeed, I look like a mess, don't I?"
The man called Count exchanged greetings with Vermelani, then shifted his gaze. Vermelani then introduced the group to him.
"It is truly a pleasure. I am Count Gunnar of Luogallan."
After being introduced to the party, Count Luogallan led Ulrich's group into the fortress.
"Have you perhaps come looking for me?"
The Count asked as he sat down on a pile of stones.
"No. We came to investigate. To determine whether the monsters appearing in the swamp came from outside, or were generated within."
At Roberta's answer, the Count let out a sigh.
"I see. From the outside, they must think I'm dead."
He had gone missing while investigating the demonic realm. And not for a mere day or two—he had been out of contact for over a week, and even search parties had failed to find any trace of him. It was hard to believe he was still alive.
If Ulrich had not steered the boat toward the fortress, they would have passed by without ever knowing. Upon hearing this, the Count lowered his head.
"You've saved my life."
"How did you end up trapped here?"
"There were… unexpected circumstances. Like you, I came here believing the swamp had become a demonic realm. Then suddenly, it started raining."
He explained that they should have retreated as soon as the rain began, but they continued their investigation and missed the right moment. By the time they decided to withdraw, the rising water had cut off the path midway, forcing them to turn back.
"We waited for the water level to go down… but as you can see, the situation is far from good. If you hadn't come, something would have happened within a day or two."
The inside of the fortress was in disarray. Rubble from collapsed walls lay scattered, and bloodstains were smeared across the overgrown vegetation. Monsters had entered the fortress and battles had taken place—and recently.
There were fewer than ten survivors. Most of them were injured. No priests could be seen—perhaps none had survived.
Everyone looked exhausted. It was clear they had been keeping watch without proper rest. The Count's words—that they were at their limit—were no exaggeration.
"Have you identified the cause of the demonic realm?"
"Of course. It's because of that damned thing that we're suffering like this."
The Count spat out a curse, but then stopped short of continuing. He had been about to answer, but hesitated. His gaze flicked toward Beatrice—because she was an inquisitor.
Vermelani had mentioned it before: the secret of the Erelbur family was known only to three people outside the family. Count Luogallan was one of them, and that secret was tied to the cause of the demonic realm.
Ulrich nodded toward Vermelani.
"Count, it's fine. Please, tell us."
"Are you certain?"
The Count asked, eyes widening.
"It will be revealed soon enough, whether you say it or not."
She added that they had already come this far. The Count frowned and scratched the back of his head, hesitating for a long while.
He glanced at Beatrice, then at Fritz and Roberta, and only after looking at Ulrich did he finally speak.
"The World Tree… has sprouted."
He continued.
"It's been corrupted… That is the cause of the demonic realm."
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