Notes: Hi everyone!

First of all, I want to thank you all for the incredible support you're giving to this story.

This chapter and the next three that will follow can be considered a sort of experiment.

In fact, I am considering, if circumstances allow me, to create a collection of short stories which, in the form of spinoffs, tell some secondary events relating to the lore of the world of "Napoleon of Another World!", and this was supposed to be the first of them.

I therefore decided to make some changes, insert it into the main plot and bring it to your attention, to ask for your opinion and understand if it might interest you.

These would mostly be self-contained stories unrelated to the main plot, which would have both the main characters and in some cases even supporting characters as protagonists.

So let me know your opinions on it!^^

Cj Spencer



"You don't reason with intellectuals.

You shoot them."



Mablith was the first major city in the Grand Duchy you encountered once you left the mountains heading east.

A peaceful place not used to war, so much so that it didn't even have walls or other defensive systems.

On the other hand, since the separation of its territories, Eirinn had always chosen the path of absolute neutrality, and even during the thirty-year Border War with the Union it had never once been threatened with invasion–although this had not prevented army units from fighting alongside the Empire as auxiliaries–.

Its vassal status was purely formal, and apart from not being able to start military campaigns without the Emperor's permission or the prohibition on changing some laws it could decide its own policy.

Sure, its soil was one of the most fertile ever seen and anything could grow there, but neither Saedonia, with its vast central prairies, nor the Union, the supreme agricultural nation, had problems with that, so no one thought that its fields or its woods were worth a war.

For these and other reasons the ducal army had decided that Mablith had to be sacrificed to the enemy advance; but despite the orders received, a large part of the citizens had decided not to abandon the city, also due to the reassuring rumors regarding the nobility of spirit of the enemy commander.

The arrival of the Free State troops was undoubtedly something majestic, which left the inhabitants who had gathered for the occasion along the main street speechless.

It didn't even look like a rebel army: the soldiers were orderly and disciplined, they almost all wore the same uniforms and brandished the same weapons, and they marched to the beat of the drums, proudly waving their flags.

After establishing camp on the outskirts of the city, Daemon wanted to go and meet the mayor along with some of his companions.

"I guarantee you that we have no hostile intentions towards your community. My men have orders not to raid and to keep away from the town. We will only maintain a small security force and some patrols, plus we will use the old salt warehouses as storage for our supplies."

"We don't want trouble, Messer Haselworth. But we have received very disturbing news regarding the siege of Grote Muren."

The self-control with which Daemon had begun to behave since the day after the end of the battle clashed with the way he had reduced his tent that night. It was almost as if by letting off steam he had thrown out all the frustration and anger accumulated in those five infamous days, returning to being the same cold but courteous guide that everyone remembered.

And this worried some of his friends a bit, starting with Scalia.

"Unfortunately, circumstances forced us to resort to extreme measures. And even though it may seem hypocritical, I want to tell you that I'm sorry that it ended up that way. If it's any consolation, we have ascertained that nearly all of the occupants of the fort belonged to the Earl of Hatlen's eastern army, so there should be no fellow citizens among them."

The mayor looked down as if he was afraid of something.

"I want to be honest with you, Master Haselworth. I and my people owe you a lot. The economic relations that the Free State had established also made Mablith's fortune. But I cannot help but think that even if none of our children perished in Grote Muren, many of them are still part of the army. And I guess you and your men aren't here to make friends."

"I'm sorry, but all I can promise you is that we will try to keep casualties to a minimum. We have no intention of continuing this war any longer than necessary. If the Grand Duke agrees to negotiate the cessation of hostilities and the achievement of a lasting peace, we are ready to stop at any moment."

"In this case I fear it will be very difficult. If only the old Grand Duke were still master of this country we would not have been reduced to this situation. Victor is young and ambitious, but above all he is misadvised by his troublesome uncle. As long as one of the two is in power there will be no room for diplomacy."

"I promise you that we will only stay here as long as strictly necessary. Just a few days, waiting for supplies to arrive and our scouts to report on the enemy's status. In the meantime, if any of your fellow citizens would like to join us or contribute in any way to the expedition, they will be welcome."

After discussing a few more things Daemon returned to his quarters, asking not to be disturbed unless necessary.

Those who knew him could see very well that what had happened in Grote Muren had profoundly affected him, no matter how much he tried to pretend otherwise.

"I'm so worried about my big brother." Sapi said with an unusually dejected expression. "I've never seen him so sad."

"Maybe we should try talking to him."

"To tell him what?" replied Jack. "You know him better than all of us Scalia, you know full well that it would be useless."

"It's all my fault." said Septimus angrily touching the arm tied around his neck "If I hadn't been so stupid and reckless..."

"No, boy." sighed Oldrick. "I'm afraid it's everyone's fault."

"What do you mean?" Sapi asked

"The problem is that without realizing it, all this time we've been idealizing Daemon. And so we forgot that he too is ultimately just a boy, however special he may be. And as such he too can sometimes be dominated by pain, anger and the thirst for revenge."

"I'm afraid it was a trauma for him too, knowing that he couldn't always be in control of his own actions." Adrian said. "He will have to deal with it. And unfortunately it's something he can only do alone."

"I beg your pardon, gentlemen." said at that moment a strange senile voice from behind the group. "Is this by any chance where I can meet Lord Haselworth?"



If I still thought about it, I felt myself burning with anger.

What the hell had happened to me?

How could I have behaved so childishly and recklessly?

For a moment I felt like that day many months ago, when I had beaten up that idiot Doug, stopping just in time to avoid killing him.

But this time the consequences of my actions risked being much more dramatic.

And that certainly wasn't the last time I'd seen a friend die before my eyes.

A friend!? How stupid! I have no friends! Those people are nothing but useful tools for my purpose!

But then why was thinking about that scene enough to make me angry?

It was as if every now and then the old Daemon tried to emerge and influence my way of thinking, and it made me so nervous that I wanted to slap myself.

It's just ridiculous. Being angry with a part of yourself!

Every time I found myself in situations like that I couldn't help but imagine Faucheur enjoying the show with that sly manner of his.

Immersing myself in work was the only way to try to reorganize my ideas and think about the future; even though the people of Erthea were as accustomed as those of my old world to the barbarity of war, my reputation was bound to suffer greatly from what happened at Grote Muren.

If I wanted to maintain people's loyalty and trust I could no longer afford similar actions, at least not immediately.

At that moment I was so confused and stressed that it would have taken nothing for me to explode. And someone thought it might be a good idea to have an old acquaintance I didn't miss dawn upon my head.



"Daemon, sorry to bother you." Jack said as he entered the tent

"I hope it's important. I told you to leave me alone."

"Sorry, but there's a strange guy asking to see you. He says he knows you."

"Who is?"

Before the horse could respond, unmistakable yells and angry shouts came from behind him, followed by an unrepeatable curse and groans of pain.

Hearing that last voice, Daemon didn't seem to want to believe his ears.

"Tell me this is a joke."

The boy then followed his subordinate into the courtyard, just in time to witness the tragicomic scene of Scalia, red with embarrassment, being barely kept by Richard from further attacking an elderly, absent-minded gentleman.

"What did you think you were doing, you old maniac?"

"Annotation. The theory that the dragon's tail is a particularly sensitive area is definitely well-founded."

"Professor! What are you doing here?"

"Daemon, do you know this pervert?"

"More or less."

The elderly gentleman then struggled to his feet, removing dust and dirt from his double-breasted suit.

"My boy. It's a pleasure to see you again. And I apologize for the inconvenience to you, miss. Unfortunately I often tend to forget to think before acting."

"This is a vice that could cost you dearly sooner or later, my friend." Daemon said

"For a moment I thought that moment had arrived. Your friend confirmed my theory about the brute strength of dragons."

"Be grateful they stopped me, or I would have used you to clean the floor!"

Even Daemon had once learned the hard way what it meant to touch Scalia's tail, so he didn't feel like being too harsh in judging the professor.

"Jack, please have some tea brought for the professor."

Scalia and the others couldn't believe their eyes when they saw their friend usher the newcomer into his tent, once again asking not to be disturbed.

"This brings back bittersweet memories." commented the professor while Daemon served him a simple but fragrant wild herb tea. "You have no idea how many times I've tried to replicate the recipe without ever succeeding."

"So, do you want to tell me what you are doing in Eirinn? I thought you had returned to the Union."

"You know me. I can't stay in one place for too long. This world is so vast, and there are so many things to see, that staying locked in a pompous lecture hall all the time would be a real waste."

Daemon smiled: "Almost three years have passed, but you haven't changed at all."

"Unlike you. I sensed you were special, but I never expected something like this."

As if that delicate field aroma had the power to sweeten thoughts and relax the soul, they both ended up walking down the lane of memories almost with nostalgia.



Once every six months, the large market for exotic goods took place in Dundee, attracting an incredible crowd of merchants and buyers of all backgrounds and social classes to the city.

For his part, every year Daemon put aside the best goods in anticipation of the big market, since that was a good chance to make high profits even for a skillful hunter like him.

It was also an excellent opportunity to meet new people and make friends.

"Business is booming, I see." said a good-natured, respectable-looking middle-aged gentleman

"Mayor Luparl, good morning."

Old Luparl, a lifelong carver, was one of the most respected men in the city, which his family had practically founded and inhabited since the times of the old Grand Duchy.

"At this rate you'll be as rich as a king."

"I can't complain. After all, these merchants from the East have a lot of money and their eyes are not trained enough."

"Well said. Anyway, I was really hoping to meet you. I have a favor to ask of you."

"If I can, willingly."

"I received a request from the mayor of Zolle, across the bridge. It would involve accompanying a scholar on an expedition into the woods, or something like that."

"A scholar?"

"Some Hinkel. Professor Jacob Hinkel."

"I know him by reputation. He is a naturalist. He teaches at Mickarn University."

"I heard he was one of the President's mentors. Anyway he will arrive here next week, and I wanted to ask you to accompany him on his expedition."

"There are many expert guides in this town. Wouldn't it be better to talk to some of them?"

"By the goddess, absolutely not. They're just a bunch of illiterate yokels. You have nothing to envy those goats, and unlike them you know how to deal with respectable people."

"I don't know. I'm honored that you think so highly of me, but I have a lot of things to do right now."

"Please. I promise that the pay will be more than adequate for the time you will waste. The situation for businesses is only starting to seriously improve now, who can say what consequences we would have if something bad happened to the professor?"

Daemon looked around for a moment, almost as if he was looking for a good excuse to refuse the request.

"All right. I'll do it."

"Thank you, boy. From the bottom of my heart."

"But let's be clear about one thing, just for a few days. Hunting season is about to come into full swing."

"Absolutely. You have my word. I will immediately send a letter to the mayor of Zolle."



Daemon had heard that Professor Jacob Hinkel was a bit bizarre, like all the luminaries, but what he found himself faced with at the fateful moment left him almost astounded.

He was neither fat nor thin, just a little chubby, with a conspicuous bald spot poorly hidden by an elegant hat.

"All this hospitality for a humble professor?" he said, almost amused, as he got out of the carriage.

"Professor Hinkel, welcome to Dundee. I am Luparl, the mayor of this community. And this is..."

"Daemon. Daemon Haselworth."

"Daemon will be your guide, professor. He is a very talented hunter, and he knows the forests of the region better than anyone."

The professor approached the boy, staring at him out of curiosity.

"So young and already so esteemed. I feel almost honored to have a person like you to guide me through these woods."

"I'll do my best, Professor."

Meanwhile the coachman and the valet were trying to unload the two heavy trunks tied onto the roof of the carriage; they had just finished with the first one, when the coachman slipped his foot and let the second one slip out of his hands.

«What are you doing, you fools? Those are very precious samples and volumes! I'll deduct it from your payment!"

Daemon rolled his eyes, sighing. He hadn't even started yet, and he already couldn't wait for it to end.