Chapter 130
Chapter 130
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 130
Chapter Title: The Spring That Has Come and the Uninvited Guest
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"Your Majesty! Please rescind the edict!"
"Your Majesty, please rescind it!"
In the grand conference hall of the Bazran Empire's imperial palace.
Three nobles were pleading with Emperor Poltviran, who sat upon a throne carved to depict a black wyvern with a massive diamond clutched in its jaws, as if ready to take flight.
They were Marquis Isevant, known as the empire's sage, and two elderly counts.
They had rushed from their territories after the emperor's edict was announced and now stood before him.
"Why should I?"
Despite the presence of the empire's high-ranking nobles, the new emperor lounged with one leg crossed over the other, his chin propped lazily against the throne.
A mocking smile played on his lips as he asked the old nobles irritably.
"Your Majesty, seeking out capable commoners and raising them as pillars of the empire was the founding emperor Bahillain's will. That will has been faithfully upheld without once being broken, and as a result, our empire has become the strongest on the continent. If you abolish that system overnight by edict, it will surely bring great harm to the empire before long. Wise and merciful Your Majesty, this old vassal begs you most earnestly—please reconsider the edict!"
Marquis Isevant, nearing eighty, spoke in a voice as resounding as any young man's, decrying the injustice of the edict.
"Do you all think the same?"
The two counts standing behind Marquis Isevant.
They were all elderly nobles renowned throughout the empire as loyal subjects.
"Our thoughts align with the marquis's opinion. Your Majesty, please withdraw the edict before it's too late!"
"Please withdraw it!"
A petition from noble elders whom even the emperor could not ignore.
"Khahahahahahahahahahahaha!!"
Suddenly, Emperor Poltviran's laughter swept wildly through the vast conference hall.
"I made it quite clear in the edict... Are you now defying an imperial command?"
His voice dripped with icy menace as he asked.
A dangerous aura began to roil from his body.
"This vassal offers one more piece of loyal counsel."
Emperor Poltviran, whose radical temperament had been an issue even during his days as crown prince.
Knowing this full well, Marquis Isevant continued calmly, undaunted.
"This empire... is not yours alone."
"Silence!!!!!!!!!!!"
"From Your Majesty above to the slaves below, it is the empire of all who sweat for its sake. If you but keep that in mind, Your Majesty shall become a sage king no less than the late emperor."
"You wretch!"
The emperor shot up from his throne.
Tadadak.
He charged toward the nobles in the hall.
Clang!
In an instant, he drew the sword of an imperial guard knight tasked with his closest protection.
"Gasp!"
"Y-Your Majesty..."
The counts behind the marquis blanched in shock.
"May you become a sage king, not a tyrant..."
Even as the emperor rushed at him sword in hand, Marquis Isevant offered his final counsel against becoming a tyrant.
Slash.
With the full momentum of his charge, the emperor sliced horizontally across the marquis's mouth.
Crunch.
The blow was so powerful that the elderly marquis's teeth and jawbone were severed with a gruesome tearing sound that echoed through the hall.
Flop, flop.
His mouth and jaw mangled but not fatally, the old marquis collapsed to the floor, writhing in agony.
"Kekeke, you dare defy the emperor's command and expect to live?"
Emperor Poltviran gazed at the marquis bleeding profusely onto the floor, his eyes gleaming with madness.
Thud.
The two counts, witnessing the brutality, crumpled to their knees.
Never in the empire's history had such a thing occurred.
Even for lesser nobles, summary execution without treason was impossible.
It was courtesy toward nobles who governed territories in the emperor's stead.
But today, that courtesy lay shattered.
By an emperor who had mercilessly slashed not a baron, not a viscount, not even a count—but a marquis of the empire.
"Spare this one! Cut every tendon from the wretch who defied my command and insulted me, then smear his body with honey and throw him into an ant pit!"
The emperor's subsequent cruel order.
Nobles guilty of rebellion were granted the honor of beheading, yet he issued a punishment fit for slaves.
"Hail!"
The guard knights' loyal cries rang through the hall.
"These two as well—strip them of their titles for defying imperial command, confiscate their wealth, and enslave their households. Do the same to that old cur's family!"
"Hail!"
"..."
A barrage of Emperor Poltviran's shocking commands echoed.
The two counts, who had come merely to offer counsel, now faced losing titles, lives, and seeing their families exterminated.
They stared in dazed horror at Poltviran, who had just been born the empire's greatest tyrant.
"My word is the law! I am Bazran itself! Khahahahahahahaha!"
The tyrant's shout rang beyond the hall, throughout the palace.
All held their breath.
They bowed their heads not to respect, but to the emperor's savage cry, born of madness and ignorant of honor or courtesy.
Out of fear, not reverence.
To survive until his reign of terror ended...
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Clang!
"Hah!"
Clang, clang!
'Not bad, kid.'
The Sky Corps, returned from meeting the elves.
In the small training ground built for practice despite its narrow confines, Razsion was crossing swords with a guard knight.
It should have been too much for him to wield a heavy sword at his age, yet the little prince was engaging in live-steel sparring with a knight using a longsword.
His plain training clothes were filthy, torn in places.
Kagang!
Whiriririririk.
Thud!
"Hah, haaa..."
At some point, the little one's longsword was caught by the guard knight's blade and sent flying far away.
Disarmed, the kid gulped for air raggedly.
"Your Highness, that's enough for today."
"N-No. I can still hold a sword."
The guard knight tried to dissuade the worried prince, but the kid's resolve did not waver.
'Damn, he really looks like me as a kid.'
I'd gone to sword academy at that age too.
Back then, I'd swung a wooden sword bloody every day.
Following Mother's words to get my money's worth no matter what I learned, I'd swung that thing like mad.
Impressed by my passion, the instructor taught me the swordsmanship handed down through Korean generations.
"That's the spirit. You're still far from ready, by my eye."
"B-Brother!"
Tadadadak.
Spotting me, the kid came running, calling me brother.
"Not too tired from that, right?"
"Of course not! Hehe, I'm still good."
His training clothes soaked with sweat, yet Razsion insisted he was fine.
His hands, gripping the sword so long, were skinned and bleeding.
"Cure."
I casually cast a full-body recovery spell.
Whiriririring.
A yellow glow infused with life force sparkled.
"Wow! Brother's amazing. A magic swordsman! I respect you! Second in the world after Father!"
The appreciative Razsion.
I ruffled his hair gently.
"But you're learning wrong."
".....??"
It might insult his instructor, but I had to point out the flaw in his method.
"At your age, it's more important to build a body that can wield the sword than swinging real steel. Just as a large vessel is needed to hold much water, powerful swordsmanship requires matching mana breathing techniques and body conditioning."
Like clay hardened in one shape is hard to reshape, so it was with swordsmanship.
No—magic too, and most things in the world followed that truth.
"Then teach me, Brother!"
Razsion's brown eyes, like the emperor's.
"Of course."
"Yay! Thank you, Master!"
What a good kid.
Still young and ignorant of much, yet raised in the palace, he knew roughly his situation—and it didn't break him.
A true heir to the throne, utterly unlike that thug bastard Poltviran.
"Can you teach me too?"
'Eh?'
A woman's voice like tinkling silver bells from behind.
'Aegis...'
Princess Aegis, possessed of noble grace.
She had shed her dress for the air plate armor worn by knights.
She smiled at me, flashing white teeth.
"Haha, if Princess Aegis wishes to learn, I'd be honored."
How could a man refuse such a lovely, cute woman wanting to learn the sword?
"Thank you, Lord Kaiser..."
She bowed her head in gratitude.
I nodded in return to her gentle, refined gesture.
★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★
'He's truly remarkable.'
She had come to Neruman with doubts.
Exile to Neruman Territory at her father's dying request.
With Duke Garviti's aid, reliable guard knights were assigned, and they reached Neruman.
But could Neruman withstand the Bazran Empire's threat? She wondered.
No matter how confident Count Kaiser, the territory lord, even a year wouldn't be enough to fix the troublesome Neruman she knew.
'They're all alive. From Lord Kaiser to the knights, the people, even the wyverns.'
In just days, Aegis learned much about Neruman.
Its knights were worlds apart from the rigid, protocol-obsessed palace guards.
They always smiled brightly, acting freely.
Drinking with soldiers, even teaching them swordplay.
In that, she scented the free spirit she'd seen in Kaiser.
And more.
The soldiers didn't stand watch or work grudgingly.
They cleaned and patrolled the Sky Corps as if it were their own.
Just watching filled her with joy.
Then the territory folk freely coming and going.
In the empire, such a key military site would be heavily restricted, yet here they entered unhindered.
Perhaps because of the temple to the goddess Neran of Mercy, but more because fear held no sway in their hearts.
What were nobles and knights?
Men who could behead for merely meeting their gaze.
But not here.
It was possible because they trusted and followed the man now smiling confidently before her.
"Let's eat dinner first, even if we're training. Sir Derbal, gather the knights back from patrol in the mess hall. Time for a drink today too."
"Yes, my lord!"
"Check the soldiers have enough with this cold weather."
"Understood!"
The lord issuing cheerful orders, the knight responding briskly.
Aegis found herself smiling broadly without realizing.
People who made one happy just being near.
That was Neruman.
A blessed land where people could breathe and live freely, as the gods intended.
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Sizzle.
"Ow!"
Repaired the last broken Drabilt with the mithril welder.
"Ugh, no worries about work this winter."
Inside the building used as the Sky Corps warehouse, Drabilts stood or lay in rows.
Second-hand ones bought through the Rubis Merchant Guild over the past year.
The dwarves were too busy for new models, and I lacked time.
Modifying used ones was far easier.
"I'm the lord of Neruman who can't even get paid~♪ Every night, the side-gig lord gluing eyes on dolls~♪ Doesn't matter if no one notices. I'm happy with my territory Neruman. ♪♪ Lululu....."
Humming, I moved to a heavily rusted Drabilt.
This restful winter ending, hellish spring approaching.
Before enemies attacked, I needed more Drabilts.
Lose in battle, lose everything—but maintain the attitude of planting an apple tree even if Earth ends tomorrow.
The land gained driving off monsters.
Reclaim more fields, grow more grain.
As the saying goes, agriculture is the foundation of the land.
Without food sovereignty, no dreams of tomorrow.
Whoosh.
Rustle, rustle.
Cool wind blowing outside the hangar-like warehouse.
Snow piling softly.
"Lululu ~♪♪"
My lips hummed nonstop.
Tiring, yes—but rewarding.
My land, which only I must protect.
My people, my knights sleeping, trusting me tonight.
They made me happy.
I exist because they do, they because I do—this moment.
Sweat drops falling were jewels of fleeting life.
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"An imperial order has come down. The 3rd and 7th Legions of the Western Army are commanded to march immediately. Target: Neruman Territory of the Bazran Empire, beyond the Kingdom of Habis!"
Duke Yanovis of the Raviter Empire emerged from the emperor's office.
He handed a document stamped with the golden imperial seal to his aide, Count Dabesyan.
"It's finally starting."
"Khaha, this was the most interminable winter of my life."
"What of Habis Kingdom? They just sent envoys swearing unchanged loyalty to His Majesty..."
"Send envoys. Tell them we're crossing their territory to reach Neruman."
"Th-That is..."
"If they refuse, Habis Kingdom vanishes from the earth that day."
"Your will be done, Your Grace."
Count Dabesyan bowed to Duke Yanovis's firm words.
What kingdom would allow foreign troops to march across its land?
But Habis must choose.
Open the path to the empire, or defend pride and perish ignominiously.
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"Charge!"
Ziiiiing!
Boom, boom, boom!
At the command input, the Drabilt kicked off the ground and advanced.
Rumble.
Its seven-bladed improved plow overturned the winter-frozen earth in seconds.
"Woooah!"
Territory folk watching cheered.
A task taking horses all day, done in minutes by the brute Drabilt.
To farmers, it was a gift from heaven.
'Spring's already here.'
Such a long, long winter.
Just days ago, ground frozen solid—yet warm sun and winds melted snow and earth.
Winter vanished in a blink, spring arrived unannounced.
Heat haze danced across the land in spring's waltz.
"My lord, well done."
Derbal, knowing my nonstop winter side-gigs, offered thanks.
"What thanks..."
I felt proud.
All winter, I'd slaved over the mithril welder.
Couldn't leave expanded farmlands idle—needed several times more Drabilts than last year.
'I'm tough too. Repaired forty Drabilts in my forties.'
And more.
Besides Drabilts, made new Blast Spears, visited dwarves for weapon upgrades.
No time to even blink.
Only snapped to when told a female wyvern, merged with Bebeto recently, laid eggs.
'Lucky bastard... Kids already.'
Time short, no kisses despite lovely women around.
Thus spring came.
My chest warmed fiercely.
"My lord, urgent report."
"Hm? Urgent?"
Sudden comms chime from the folded helmet.
I donned it hastily.
Elven air plate helmets had comms too.
Even key Sky Knight command helmets.
"A Lumicar from Habis Kingdom just arrived. But..."
"What's the content?"
The comms knight hesitated.
"Raviter Empire is moving troops."
"Hmm..."
Expected and prepared, yet the words hit hard.
"You'll need to come confirm details in person."
"Good work."
"Hail!"
'They're finally coming!'
Raviter moving troops—border in at most a fortnight.
"Sir Derbal, hear that?"
"Yes, my lord!"
"From this moment, full army on high alert. All Sky Knights to stations except special patrols."
"Understood!"
'How will you come, my enemies? Heh...'
Surprised, but not afraid.
Just curious about their attack method.
Over Kobiran Mountains: one day to my territory.
With main forces: fortnight.
But prepare for both.
'You'll learn soon. That now's the best time...'
Attack best defense, but now hunker down and wait.
Yet it won't end like this.
Tenfold return good or ill—that's our house motto.
I clenched my fist.
A showdown with spring.
Fate deciding Neruman's future approached.
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"Ah..."
"Sh-Shameful. To treat our kingdom thus..."
Habis Kingdom's royal council chamber.
Last winter, with Lord Kaiser's aid from Neruman, they crushed Loen Ducal forces and quelled all rebels.
Loen routed, wyverns bolstered royal forces—rebels surrendered or fled.
Much happened that winter in Habis.
Sent loyal knights with titles to stabilize territories, recruited new knights, built national strength.
Then yesterday, a golden imperial missive symbolizing Raviter's command arrived.
Demanding borders opened to attack Neruman.
No— an order.
"..."
Nobles in the chamber clenched fists, trembling in rage.
But that was it.
None but Duke Sapidan spoke.
What choice for a small kingdom?
Obey the empire.
"Withdraw border guards. Evacuate folk along the imperial route too."
King Rosiat's voice shook as he commanded.
'Forgive me... I can do nothing for you.'
Rosiat fought back tears.
Habis had no choice but to obey.
Yet guilt gnawed.
A man who gave his all for kingdom and king.
She'd failed that man in loyalty.
"Urk..."
Groans escaped the holding nobles.
"Remember this day. This humiliation we suffer... we must repay it. That will be our goal henceforth."
Rosiat's quiet voice rang.
"Hail!"
Loyal Habis knights, newly ennobled, roared hail with bloodshot eyes.
Habis reborn in spirit.
They vowed to show the world.
The kingdom that once ruled the continent... had not died yet.
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"Improved spears distributed?"
"Not ideal numbers, but prioritized to 3rd and 7th Legion Sky Knights."
"Impressive bastards. Owning spears we lack, without even a magic tower..."
War isn't just orders.
Troops, tactics, logistics—nothing skippable.
Especially Neruman: could annihilate foes many times their number.
Duke Yanovis knew they held Blast Spears and new weapons no empire or kingdom possessed.
"The imperial tower spears have 2.5km range. Theirs maybe 3km, but numbers can cover that."
"Heh heh, indeed. Even new spears mean little against numbers."
"Yes. Intel says they've grown wyverns to about 100 recently, but we'll commit 500. Unlike Habis rabble, all elite Sky Knights."
"When's His Highness arriving?"
"Soon. He's counted days—won't delay."
Imperial Sky Corps in the capital.
Commander Duke Yanovis awaited Prince Alskane.
20,000 imperial regulars already crossing Habis.
Long-awaited conquest war; Yanovis felt his heart race with excitement.
Like 30 years ago, conquering Perkan Kingdom over Bets Mountains.
This might be his final campaign in waning life.
'I'll seat Alskane on the throne. Then Yukein, Berkain Kingdom, Habis, Neruman—all imperial soil!'
Aging flesh, but unquenched knightly dream of conquest.
Yanovis burned with visions of the coming war.
Rustle.
"He's here."
At the imperial Sky Corps entrance, a dozen Sky Knights appeared.
Among them, Prince Alskane in gold-mithril air plate, red cape fluttering.
His stride confident.
"Welcome, Your Highness."
"Haha, splendid weather."
Alskane, hysterical all winter, now beamed.
"Perfect flying day. Mount up. 200,000 imperial troops await you."
"Very well. Depart at once."
Alskane, who bantered even with grandfather Duke Yanovis when angry, was transformed.
Flash.
He leaped onto his newly assigned gold wyvern.
Tadak.
Imperial guard Sky Knights followed onto Raviter gold wyverns.
Flap, flap, flutter.
Kuaaaaa!
The prince's gold wyvern cried long, beating wings.
Thump.
It pushed off lightly and soared.
Kioooo!
Kaaaa!
Guard Sky Knights and Yanovis's wyvern followed.
They flew west.
Toward the brazen foe who dared breathe same sky, bruising imperial pride...
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