Chapter 47

Don Quixote. The first piece of literature I “borrowed” in this world, and the first modern novel.

The last knightly romance.

The Bible of Spain. The novel most dear to writers. The first bestseller. An immortal, everlasting steady seller as long as there are languages and as long as stories exist in this culture.

The novel that marks the end of the Middle Ages.

And there he was, Don Quixote of La Mancha, right before my eyes. Dressed like a wandering knight, as if he had just stepped out of the Middle Ages, wearing a helmet made of paper!

“Nice to meet you! I’m Andy, the Duke of Kapeter.”

He introduced himself as Duke Andy of Kapeter.

A duke in the Empire, where he owned one of the few permanent estates in a constitutional monarchy. In this modern world—meaning my current world—counts are the nobles who fall under the court’s banner in the classical hierarchy.

To trace the history back, you’d have to go all the way to the days of the “Fair King,” but what’s crucial is that all noble rights belong to the Empire.

While they could own manors—essentially production means—they could never be the secular rulers of specific territories.

“Just call me Andy.”

But this Andy, or “Duke,” was different.

These guys were the secular rulers of their lands and held absolute rights and responsibilities within the framework defined by the Empire’s constitution.

And my father, Count Fríden, had some fiery opinions on these dukes.

“So you’re the Duke of Kapeter…?”

“Indeed.”

“Your attire suggests you’ve been on your knightly quest for ages. Can I ask you one question?”

“Feel free.”

“How do you run your territory?”

He said they were poor souls, shackled to their territories, working day and night like hamsters in a wheel.

And he was dead on. The Empire kept a close eye on ducal territories, especially since the constitutional monarchy established since the reign of the Fair King could crumble at any moment.

The nobles in the assembly were always ready to pull the dukes down to their level.

For the duke’s territory to run smoothly, everything had to be perfect, without so much as a single crack showing. That meant the workload of dukes was seriously beyond imagining.

So, with that question lingering, I asked. Duke Kapeter’s answer was simple.

“I left it to my son.”

“Excuse me?”

“He’s a smart kid; he’ll manage.”

“Wow… Your son must be quite the genius!”

“That he is. I left a letter before heading off on my knightly adventure, so I’m sure he’s figuring it out.”

“Oh, you didn’t hand over responsibilities personally or anything…?”

“Is that even necessary?”

“……”

Hmm. The wandering knight getup screamed bizarre, but Duke Kapeter was truly something else. Maybe even more laid-back than my father.

Did he catch my gaze? Because he chuckled and continued.

“They say the truly important things aren’t visible.”

“You’ve read ‘The Little Prince,’ haven’t you?”

“Even in the midst of my knightly quest, I always search for books to read. Especially those by Homer.”

“Thank you.”

“So, may I ask you a favor?”

“Uh, sure! Anything I can do…”

Duke Kapeter pulled a book from his bag and plopped it on the desk. It was the first part of Don Quixote—an original edition claimed to be priceless. Sure, the edges had clearly survived a lot of love, but the cover and pages were spotless. You could feel the adoration for this piece.

Extending the book toward me, the duke proclaimed confidently,

“Please sign this.”

“Uh… what?”

“One of my greatest goals during my knightly quests has been to get Homer’s signature on Don Quixote. Even if I slay a wicked dragon, if I don’t get this signature, it would all be for nothing.”

“Oh, sure! I can do that!”

* * *

Duke Kapeter was an incredibly intriguing character.

“During my knightly adventures, I’ve seen a lot. I’ve gone to the world tree, which lies in the hottest place on the planet, and visited the entrance to the underworld located at the pole.”

“Oh…”

To put it plainly, this guy had the juiciest experiences.

After publishing Don Quixote, Duke Kapeter had roamed the world for years like a knight on an eternal quest—an actual “world tour.”

“Ships wouldn’t go to those locations. How did you get there?”

“I hitched rides with various folk… and when there was no road, I simply walked on water. I just took a wrong turn and ended up on this bizarre path.”

“Walking on water…?”

“A little trick. Any knight should be able to realize their will through their actions.”

Duke Kapeter said this as casually as one would order a coffee.

“I see… If it’s not too much trouble, could you share some stories?”

This was a golden chance to snag some unique material that old travel logs or merchant accounts would never have.

These stories could prove to be useful when I penned things like ‘Gulliver’s Travels’ or ‘Around the World in Eighty Days’ later on. New tales are naturally fascinating.

For someone like me, who remembered life back on Earth, this world was practically a fantasy itself.

So, accounts of someone who roamed this world sounded like a fantasy novel waiting to happen. Maybe I could even persuade him to write a travel memoir.

“Hmm, well. I don’t really know where to start. The reason I could hop from place to place was primarily thanks to my Don Quixote outfit. People who read Don Quixote knew I was on a knightly quest and offered me rides in trains, carriages, and balloons. I traveled to so many places, explaining them all would take a lifetime.”

“You can just share the ones that left the biggest impression.”

“Hmm. Alright. I guess I should start with the world tree. The world tree was this gigantic tree that grew up to the sky and was smack dab in the middle of a super hot jungle. The locals called it the ‘center of the world.’ It’s the axis between the poles, the spot where the world rotates. They labeled it the equator, where the sun zooms right over your head.”

* * *

The world tree didn’t sport those vibrant, lively green leaves you hear about in legends. Nope. It had drab gray leaves instead. With its branches stretching above the clouds, it always looked like black rain was drizzling around it. Yup, gray rain, the kind that eats up all light.

The ‘gray leaves’ falling down from the sky settled in the forest, mixed into the soil, rotting away to nourish the woodland.

“When you catch sight of a tall mountain, isn’t it natural to want to scale it? I too climbed the world tree to check just how high it went.”

“Really? How high was it?”

“In the Empire’s measurement… hmmm, I’m not familiar with the new system, but it seemed to be about 30,000 kilometers.”

“…Wait, did you mean 30,000 meters?”

“Nope. That was a bit less than the planet’s circumference, so it must be right.”

“You mean the tree’s height…?”

“Once you go higher than the sky, you can see the aurora, and from that point, day and night just blend into one. All you can see is a night sky stuffed with stars. It’s not a place you can stay for long because breathing becomes a chore, and your skin tingles like crazy.”

If that height was accurate, you’d probably die before you could even hang around for “a while,” right?

Clearly, Duke Kapeter’s body had surpassed human limits. I had seen wizards boil water without fire and had my mind blown by mesmerizing illusions, but the existence of such ‘superhumans’ felt even more unreal than magic.

“There, the branches stretched endlessly, splitting and branching off like it was on a mission to create billions of smaller branches. The thickest branches were bigger than any tree I saw down below, while the farthest ones were as tiny as standard tree branches. Those gray leaves hung down plentifully, blanketing the night sky.”

“Wow…”

“And then, I discovered that there were beings living in that tree. The creatures of legends… beings called elves.”

“Pardon?”

“They weren’t quite the breathtaking beauties the tales would have you believe, though.”

* * *

Elves.

The moment the elves spotted Duke Kapeter, they freaked out and dove right back into the tree. Inside, there were narrow tubes that drew water up from the planet—essentially the tiny veins through which the plant circulated water. The elves traveled between space and the planet via these tubes.

Hearing this, the first thought that popped into my head was an “orbital elevator.” You know, that space elevator that connects geostationary orbit to the planet.

The world tree was like an orbital elevator stretching out its branches to soak up sun rays and perform photosynthesis—a real biopunk sci-fi sight!

The gray leaves were likely an evolutionary bonus, allowing it to absorb all wavelengths of light.

Wait, evolution isn’t quite the right term. There’s no way such a massive, one-of-a-kind tree could be the outcome of ‘natural selection.’ This had to be something more magical.

A mystery of this world that I couldn’t wrap my head around.

“Just like humans can’t hang out at the top of the world tree for long, it seemed the elves couldn’t cut it on the ground either. That ancient myth about elves and humans mingling? Probably a bust.”

“Fascinating.”

“Well, that’s about all I recall regarding the world tree. I’m not great with words, so I doubt I can elaborate further.”

“I get it.”

“Ah, on the flip side, at the coldest pole of the planet, there’s a hole that leads underground. Below that is a huge, empty cavern.”

“Were there Nazis by any chance?”

“Hmm? What’s that?”

“Oh, never mind. Please continue.”

“Anyhow, dwarves lived down there.”

Duke Kapeter’s tales went on, and I became increasingly aware that this world was composed of far more mysteries than I had ever known.

And maybe sharing those mysteries with everyone could be the key to unleashing the literature of this ‘world.’

“Duke Kapeter.”

“Uh-huh. Go on.”

“Have you ever thought about publishing your travel tales as a novel?”

This wasn’t something you could simply cram into ‘Around the World in Eighty Days.’ Sure, there were a few similarities to ‘Gulliver’s Travels,’ but it still wasn’t cutting it.

What was needed was a totally fresh story.

It seemed I’d have to team up with some ‘writers.’