Chapter 136
Chapter 136
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 136
Chapter Title: Tempt the Worker Ants
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"UwAAAAAAAAAA!"
Crash-crash-crash-crash.
Clang-clang-clang-clang-clang.
A furious roar from Prince Alskein, resembling the howl of a maddened wolf.
Just a day ago, he had effectively commanded an army of 200,000 and 500 Sky Knights.
But in a single day—no, in an absurdly short span of time—the Raviter army had shattered into fragments like broken glass.
He had entered the battle with the resolve to capture Neruman's lord, Kair, alive, flay his skin, and tear his body apart.
The word "defeat" had never even crossed his mind.
Yet Prince Alskein had tasted defeat.
He had become the chief culprit of a routed army that lost 200,000 troops and 300 Sky Knights.
"Kraaaaaaaaaa!"
The Sky Knights of Neruman who had doggedly pursued him.
Prince Alskein, who had pissed himself in terror of death.
Even after arriving at Duke Yanobis's castle, he hadn't slept a wink all night.
The laughter of Kair, who had driven him and the imperial army into hell while grinning.
"Uwaaaaaah! Uwaaaaaaaa!"
The prince smashed every fixture in the room and tore at his own hair, howling.
An humiliation he could never forget, even in death.
He wanted to kill that bastard, even if it meant selling his soul to the demons.
Neruman's lord, Kair—that fiend. He dreamed only of cutting out his tongue and devouring his heart.
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"Why are my ears so itchy?"
Thanks to the beauties, he had slept deeply and woken refreshed that morning.
The sun was already high in the sky by the time he made it to his office.
It was time to get up, but the two beauties burrowed into his arms like it was a competition, forcing him to lie there blankly, even counting the dust on the ceiling.
At some point, they both woke at the same time. He left them in the bedroom, maintained his cleanliness with magic, and headed to the office.
But right then, his ears itched.
Some bastard must be cursing him relentlessly—scratching his left ear didn't help.
"Nice, what excellent discipline."
The view of the Sky Knight Wing outside the office window.
Despite the festival held just yesterday, no one was slacking off like him.
Knights and soldiers were busy repairing the hangar destroyed by a stray spear in battle and transporting supplies.
As their lord, he highly approved of such attitudes.
Knock knock.
"My lord, it's Derbal."
"Oh! Sir Derbal, come in."
Creak.
Derbal cautiously opened the door at the invitation.
"How is your body faring?"
"I'm fine. I finally got a good night's sleep."
"That's a relief."
"And you? How are you holding up?"
"Thanks to you, my lord, I slept deeply as well."
He probably hadn't truly rested because of the Raviter Empire bastards.
Derbal wasn't the type to sleep in anyway, but a short, sound sleep was better than a groggy long one.
"Has the cleanup mostly finished?"
"It's insufficient, but the major outlines are sorted."
"What was our damage?"
Even during yesterday's festival, a corner of his mind had been uneasy.
There must have been casualties among the territory's Sky Knights, and significant losses among the knights and soldiers defending the walls.
But the brief festival had been necessary.
The dead were regrettable, but their noble sacrifice had secured peace for Neruman.
To honor that peace—no, to honor the fallen—everyone must have held a moment of mourning in their hearts even as they drank.
"Of the 102 Sky Knights who sortied, nine perished. Of the 25 wyverns shot down, twelve died, and the rest were healed with holy water."
"Hmm..."
It was nothing compared to the imperial army that lost over 300 wyverns, but the news of nine knights dead made his chest ache sharply.
"Additionally, 35 knights and 890 soldiers died defending the walls. We promptly treated the wounded with holy water, but many were beyond saving. And around 150 civilians died to stray spears that lost their targets."
'So many dead...'
He closed his eyes and silently mourned their noble deaths.
"Aside from that, twelve large ballistae were completely destroyed, about thirty partially damaged, and the walls sustained considerable harm."
The damage was lighter than expected.
Who else could achieve such a great victory against the Raviter horde with so little loss?
But for the territory, it was no small number of deaths.
Even if holy water could heal anything short of instant death, there had been no time for many.
"What about the enemy's losses?"
"The Raviter bastards suffered tremendous casualties. Of their 500 wyverns, only about 200 returned alive. Of the remaining 300, roughly 170 crashed but survived unscathed, while the other 130 died."
His eyes snapped open.
The 170 surviving wyverns.
No amount of money could buy that many wyverns on the continent in such a short time.
'Jackpot!'
He clenched his fist tightly.
He'd considered over 100 captures a success, but 170?
"And of the 300 Sky Knights controlling the wyverns, 250 died or committed suicide. The rest are prisoners."
That was expected of Raviter's elite nobles and knights.
Some would kill themselves rather than suffer the shame of capture.
"What about the infantry?"
"That's... quite the headache."
"What do you mean? Are they causing trouble?"
"No. The problem isn't riots—it's that we captured too many prisoners."
Derbal spoke with undisguised bewilderment.
"Too many in number?"
He had roughly anticipated it.
"Yes. We still can't get an exact count of the enemy prisoners. It's certainly over 180,000 at minimum."
'That's a lot.'
180,000—not some stray dog, but a force equaling a third of Neruman's population.
"We're herding the prisoners onto the plains outside Denfos City and guarding them, but even roughly controlling them requires over 5,000 soldiers."
Derbal emphasized "roughly."
'Even a great victory brings headaches.'
180,000 captured soldiers as prisoners.
Healthy men in their prime—they'd eat a ton.
"Have we treated all the wounded?"
"We treated the critical cases yesterday. Lady Armis and the holy knights helped."
The angelic Armis wouldn't have let it slide.
Enemy or ally, to her, they were all pitiful children of the gods.
"What should we do with the prisoners?"
"Raviter Empire will contact us soon. The noble houses will send people to retrieve their surviving or deceased nobles and knights, and the empire will negotiate prisoner exchanges to quell their people's unrest."
'Oh ho, prisoner negotiations.'
War's blessing to the victor, curse to the vanquished.
He'd already gained immensely from the wyverns, and now bonus income from ransoms.
'Wait, what about the military supplies they left behind?'
Even selling the weapons for 200,000 as scrap would feed Neruman luxuriously for years.
Plus war supplies: arrows, horses, food, tents for sleeping, etc.
An unimaginable haul must have been acquired.
"But where are the knights? I saw few wyverns from the Sky Knight Wing."
"They sortied to mop up imperial remnants scattered across the territory. Quite a few escaped."
"Are the village militias mobilized?"
"The escape routes were all along their line of advance. No imperial soldiers fled toward areas dense with our territory folk. And even if any appeared in the rear, our people won't fall to half-baked imperial grunts."
Neruman folk raised from birth aiming to be mercenaries.
Even with most reserves called up, those left in villages could still fight.
"Any mages?"
"Yes. About 200 combat mages of 4th Circle or higher from their legion's mage corps were captured. They're dangerous, so we shackled them with mana cuffs alongside the knights."
'200! Heh heh heh.'
As expected of a lavish empire.
Assigning hundreds of 4th Circle+ mages to a single legion—only an empire could dream of it.
His mind raced with calculations.
He couldn't let 180,000 able bodies idle.
No work, no food.
Those who don't work don't eat.
"Gather all prisoners in front of the central gate."
".....?"
Derbal blinked, uncomprehending.
"I have words for them. Gather everyone except knights and mages."
"Yes, sir!"
He'd given such orders once or twice before.
Derbal shook off his doubts and shouted the command vigorously.
He would witness it again.
Kang Hyuk's grand audacity.
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'The end's nowhere in sight.'
Even just gathering the scattered prisoners took considerable time.
They must not have accepted their shocking defeat and prisoner status.
Surrounded by barely under 10,000 troops.
The hot-tempered ones probably wanted to bite their tongues in frustration.
'Yesterday's slaves are today's allies... You see all kinds living long in this world.'
The Temir warriors, under the command of Kantahar—now appointed captain of the Temir slave army—encircled the imperial troops.
"Behind-the-back fortune" was a phrase made for times like this.
'Their discipline is impeccable.'
Even as prisoners, the Raviter imperial troops formed neat ranks and files on their own when gathered.
No need for idle what-ifs about a full-on clash.
In formal battle, Neruman's folk would lose every time, obviously.
"I am Kair, Count of Neruman."
He climbed the ramparts beside the central gate and bellowed with mana-amplified voice.
"....."
The prisoners, who had stared only at him since he appeared.
Zzzing.
Gazes mixed with killing intent, rage, hatred, fear, and more pierced him.
"It's regrettable we meet like this, but welcome anyway."
He infused his voice with the audacity of the victor.
If he were a tyrant, he could slaughter them all without a word of protest.
In this era, war prisoners held less value than slaves.
"I gathered you here for one proposal."
".....?"
Puzzled murmurs from the prisoners at the word "proposal" from the man holding their lives.
They'd never heard of an enemy commander personally offering one.
'Relax, you lot. I won't eat you.'
He sensed tension easing into curious stares.
Worried about their fate, no doubt.
"I have no desire to treat prisoners as slaves per war customs thus far. As a devout servant of the merciful goddess Neran, I won't handle you like beasts."
"....."
His words echoed across the field, drawing the prisoners into deeper silence.
"Raviter Empire will soon propose prisoner negotiations for you. And I will gladly accept."
He reassured them to advance his goals.
"Until you return to the empire, I promise in my name: three full meals a day like our soldiers, comfortable beds, and treatment for the sick via Neran temples."
He cast the second bait.
"Can we trust that?"
"Hmph, all lies."
Murmur murmur.
The prisoners buzzed in astonishment at the unprecedented treatment.
'Surprised, eh? Heh heh heh.'
They should be grateful just not to be killed or sold—offering quality food and beds? Of course they'd marvel.
"Quiet!"
Rumble rumble rumble.
He activated his mana core, shaking the earth as he roared for silence.
"....."
One deafening word plunged them back into silence.
They clearly feared his immense mana.
"But it's not free. It would be conscienceless to devour grain produced by my territory's folk, knights, and soldiers' blood and sweat. Remember, I don't forgive you for slaughtering my men and people yesterday."
A warning trailing the sweet terms.
The prisoners' eyes wavered.
Even they knew it was too good—conscience and thought would remind them of their crimes.
"Until the empire negotiates, you'll work on Neruman's temple projects. But I won't treat you like slaves. Regular soldiers get 1 gold per month, squad leaders 10 gold, company commanders 100 gold."
"Gasp!"
"Impossible..."
Nothing like this had ever happened on the continent.
Three meals—not one—plus temple care and wages for captured foes?
When they had to obey anyway, offering pay? The imperial soldiers glanced at comrades, shaken.
'How could you understand the phoenix's intent?'
The better the bait, the bigger the catch—an eternal truth.
Not just prisoners—even Neruman guards watching were stunned.
Petty compared to their own pay, but paying prisoners at all? Unthinkable.
Yet their help was essential.
"But despite this generous offer, any who riot or attempt escape will be executed on sight. As you know, fleeing Neruman is impossible even for high-circle mages. One side sea, two sides sheer mountains, monster lairs everywhere. And all Neruman is flatland. If you're confident Sky Knights won't spot you, go ahead—if your life means nothing."
He stamped the deal final.
Obey and earn mercenary-level pay; disobey or flee, forfeit life.
Those who wanted to live had no choice.
'The birth of an 180,000-strong labor corps! Kahahaha! Heaven's gift to me!'
Neruman overflowed with work piled mountain-high.
Raviter regular soldiers—sturdy builds, nothing but muscle to spare—would be thrown in.
To build his paradise as worker ants.
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"Leaving already?"
"Yeah, even for us barbarians, spring matters."
"Shame."
"Hehe, don't worry. I'll visit often when I can."
'She's leaving. Feels lonely.'
Rocoroia and the Temir tribe—true heroes of this victory.
Still uneasy mingling with territory knights and soldiers, they were departing.
"Thanks."
"Thanks? With the Great Guardian Warrior born and me as one, what thanks?"
Rocoroia, the pint-sized wife who knew "two hearts as one."
Her eyes brimmed with reluctance as she gazed at him.
"A gift."
"Really?"
He had little to give.
Rocoroia received massive gem tributes yearly—she was richer than him.
So he gifted her a dwarven-made mithril hairpin.
A crescent moon studded with dozens of tiny diamonds.
"I like it."
The little one pinned it in her hair and smiled brightly.
"Take care. Send Lumicar if you need anything."
"Yeah, you too, Great Guardian Warrior."
Rustle.
With a farewell, she hugged him.
'Affection's scary, alright.'
A bit of kissing and one nap together, and his chest warmed.
The emotion called loneliness.
"Great Guardian Warrior... I get it all."
"W-What?"
Still in his arms, she spouted something odd about understanding.
"Outstanding warriors keeping multiple women to spread superior seed is natural."
'Gah!'
Classic fourth-dimensional Rocoroia.
Who knew if this kid held such admirable(?) views.
Whoever taught her did well.
"Just don't forget me. That's all. Got it?"
She tilted her head up, black pearl eyes locking on—demanding eye contact.
Smack.
He lightly kissed her forehead.
"Hehe..."
Unlike usual, she giggled girlishly at his kiss, pure as her age.
"I'll visit soon. Stay well."
"Yeah."
She slipped from his arms, mounted her wyvern.
"Darutakain! Darutakain!"
The Temir Sky Knights chanted Darutakain.
He thrust a fist high.
"WAAAAAAAAAH!"
Roaring cheers from grateful allies.
Flap flap flap flap flap.
Rocoroia's wyvern kicked off powerfully, soaring into the sky.
Flap flap flap flap flap flap.
300 wyverns followed in ascent.
'Farewell, friends.'
Temir Sky Knights who camped outside the city due to past bad blood, despite aid.
Gone like the wind, as they came.
'I'll make it happen. A land where we live in peace, no hatred...'
Regrettable send-off now, but someday, all would gather openly on his land.
Its name: Neruman, where love and peace breathe.
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"Th-That is..."
"What? Does Our word sound unreasonable?"
"....."
In the imperial capital of the Vazran Empire.
Calderon, Count of Krantz Kingdom—envoy here—lost his words at Emperor Poltviran's proposal.
He had opened the royal treasury to appease him, but that wasn't what the emperor wanted.
"Great Emperor of the mighty Vazran Empire, our kingdom's two princesses are already married to neighboring realms. To take them as concubines... Please withdraw it. Command otherwise, and all Krantz will obey with utmost effort."
Emperor Poltviran's condition.
He demanded the twin princesses, married off years ago to Kubiran and Kerper Kingdoms, as concubines.
Even virgins would have hesitated; he stated it casually.
His snakelike eyes gleamed coldly, reeking of venom.
"Kekekeke, negotiations failed then. We offered easy terms, yet you kick them away..."
Madman, clearly.
He shattered the ancient empire-kingdom alliance for perverse lust with one utterance.
The envoy Count Calderon's face turned rotten liver-pale.
"Go tell your king this: In the season of fate's arbiter, Lord Romero, We shall personally subjugate the insolent Krantz Kingdom that mocked Us! Kuhahahahaha!"
Poltviran cackled, shaking the hall—what joy!
Vazran imperial forces already massed at Krantz's border.
To faithfully execute their mad emperor's command.