Chapter 147
Chapter 147
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 147
Chapter Title: Street Fight Spirit
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"Raise your head."
"I receive Your Majesty's command!"
The imperial palace of the Raviter Empire.
In the grand conference hall where the emperor held meetings with his assembled nobles.
One man lifted his head at the emperor's words.
A skinny man who looked irritable, with a deep scar around his right eye.
"Your name is Lukens, is it not?"
"Yes, Your Majesty."
Viscount Lukens, once called the lord of Neruman.
The man who had first sensed the crisis during the invasion of Neruman and fled was now in the palace at the summons of the Raviter emperor.
"I summoned you here because I heard you know Neruman well."
The voice of Emperor Hardbeya carried an invisible dignity, quiet as always.
Lukens bowed his head again and awaited the next command.
"I ask you this: what sort of man is Neruman's lord, Kair?"
Emperor Hardbeya cut straight to the point about Kair.
His inscrutable expression and tone.
But those who knew the emperor understood.
Just how furious he was.
"Your Majesty, Kair is a formidable man. That is precisely why he must be killed."
In response to the question, Lukens dragged out the cold resentment toward Kair he had buried deep in his chest.
He knew this was his last chance in life.
A grudge that had to be settled before death.
He gathered his wits and began his audience with the emperor.
"Hmm... a man who must be killed..."
"Great and wise sovereign of the mighty Raviter Empire! I shall speak the truth without falsehood."
Thud.
Lukens dropped to his knees.
"Neruman's lord Kair is truly a fearsome man. He appeared alone in Neruman with a single wyvern and, in a mere year, transformed it from a land even the Bazran Empire had abandoned into the most livable territory on the continent. Moreover, something truly monumental is happening in Neruman right now."
Like a dam bursting, Lukens's heated words poured out without restraint.
"The cunning and dangerous lord of Neruman allied with the Temir tribe and Kesmir pirates to stabilize his territory. He uniquely mastered wyvern taming, turning captured wyverns into his own. Their number is said to have already exceeded two hundred. Not only that—as we saw during the recent invasion of Neruman—he used dwarven-made large ballistae to check wyverns and soldiers alike. And with his own magical knowledge, he developed salt fields unknown on the continent, beginning to amass wealth."
Lukens, who knew the intimate details through spies in Neruman.
Before the emperor, he laid out everything he knew about the territory.
"That's not all. He has the bold heart to use captured Raviter Empire soldiers as prisoners to hunt monsters. He is wise enough to utilize other races like dwarves and elves for territorial development. And recently, he's said to be completing an enormous fortress called the Great Citadel of Neruman in just a few months. Using dwarves and elves, in that short time."
"Dwarves and elves... so that intelligence was accurate."
Emperor Hardbeya nodded at Lukens's words.
He had known for some time through the empire's intelligence agency.
That the dwarves and elves, who had vanished from the continent, were appearing in Neruman territory and actively aiding it.
To the common folk, it might be dismissed as legend, but empires, kingdoms, mage towers, temples, and more had perked up their ears to verify the information.
Rulers and mages knew the tremendous talents of dwarves and elves, who had hidden after losing wars against humans in the past.
A territory backed actively by such dwarves and elves.
It was a gravely dangerous existence.
"And beastkin are under his command as well. Even sword-mage beastkin who can wield fifth-circle magic or higher."
Lukens revealed crucial information known only to him.
"Heh..."
But the emperor already knew.
The secret—known only to royals and high nobles—that the second prince had nearly died to Kair because of those beastkin.
"Are you confident?"
Mid-laugh, Emperor Hardbeya suddenly asked if he was confident.
"What do you..."
Lukens lifted his head in bewilderment at the emperor's abrupt question.
Hardbeya von Raviter III, lord of the Raviter Empire.
The absolute ruler revered as a god by nobles and knights alike.
No one dared oppose his authority or utter a word of irreverence.
Even in a political world where nobles harbored grievances against even sage kings, none voiced complaints aloud.
Such was the emperor, an object of respect and fear.
Now Lukens understood the nobles' sentiments.
The emperor looking down at him seemed somewhat ordinary, but his gaze carried an invisible mana pressure that constricted the soul.
The aura only a true powerhouse could exude.
Lukens held his breath and awaited the emperor's next words.
"I shall grant you power. Do you have the confidence to conquer Neruman?"
"Gasp!"
An immense proposal from the emperor.
The emperor's backing carried more weight than any other's word.
Moreover, asking if he had confidence in conquering Neruman meant appointing him supreme commander—a role for counts or higher.
Thud!
Lukens slammed his forehead to the floor.
"Your Majesty! If you trust this humble servant, I shall stake my life to drag Neruman to ruin!"
He had thought settling his grudge would suffice, but now an unparalleled opportunity was presented.
He struck his forehead so hard that red blood trickled to the floor.
"Haha, hahaha, hahahahaha...!"
The emperor burst into mad laughter for some reason.
His blade master mana filled the hall.
Cold, dark mana from the shadowy dimension...
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"It's done."
A blessed spear—something a skynight should cherish like their life.
Yet to the man before her, it was merely a metal skewer for grilling fish.
"And with salt and various seasonings added, it won't be fishy."
How considerate.
Kair had gone to sea, cast lightning magic to hunt fish.
He personally gutted them and began grilling fish of just the right eating size.
Not just any grilling, either.
He summoned a salamander to the gathered branches, controlling the heat, and liberally sprinkled precious salt and spices while roasting with care.
For a count—a great territory's lord—it was beneath his station, but Kair ignored such formalities.
'No wonder beauties never stop flocking around him.'
Crisia picked up a large, perfectly grilled fish, its insides cooked just right, and instantly grasped Kair's playboy nature.
A manly boldness and confidence that shone anywhere, plus kindness that moved women's hearts.
Add high-circle sword-mage prowess and a count's title.
A groom rivaling even the crown prince.
Yet it wasn't entirely enviable.
Beauties hanging around, smitten, waiting their turn.
Crisia was a renowned Kesmir beauty, but she felt plain next to the women around Kair.
Crunch.
She took a small bite near the fish's back with minimal mouth movement.
'Why is it so delicious?'
Even his cooking was impeccable.
No amount of top ingredients could yield this taste without true culinary sense.
"How is it? Delicious, right?"
Kair watched with expectant eyes for her verdict.
His deep, alluring black eyes pierced Crisia's soul.
"I-it's delicious."
Feeling her face flush, Crisia's voice trembled.
"Haha. Good to hear. At least it's edible."
Kair's clear, pleasant laugh resembled the refreshing spring morning breeze.
Watching her eat, he picked up a fish and began his meal.
Crunch, crunch.
Even eating looked hearty.
Famished, he deftly stripped and devoured the flesh.
Grooo, grooo.
Koo-gi-gi, koo-gi.
The wyverns left on the white sand beach exchanged affectionate wyvern talk, seemingly delighted.
'Wyverns just like their master... sigh.'
Kair's wyvern, called Bebeto.
It snatched the most appetizing fish and tossed it before Crisia's wyvern.
Then peeled the skin with its beak, offering purposeful kindness.
Suddenly envious, Crisia watched.
She wanted to converse with Kair with such clear intent, like those wyverns.
Pausing mid-bite, she stole a glance at Kair, focused on eating.
'Sigh.'
Just looking made her happy and content.
Crisia let out a long sigh.
She was falling deeper into the thick charm emanating from the man before her.
A contradictory mix of regret and anticipation drew the sigh unwittingly.
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"In the name of the Lord God..."
"In the name of the Lord God..."
The temple of the Lord God Adein, located in the central mountain range of the continent.
No dedicated priests served it, but priests and holy knights from the eleven temples—excluding the temple of the evil god Kerma—managed and maintained it jointly.
Adein's temple.
True to the foremost teaching that the Lord God exists in all things yet nowhere, the interior held no decorations or symbols.
Within that temple gathered eleven high priests.
High priests serving the Goddess of Fate Paraan, Goddess of Mercy Neran, Goddess of Abundance and Festivals Sepir, Goddess of Blessings Nermis, Arbiter of Bonds Romero, Sun God Rasiar, God of Wine and Arts Erpos, Goddess of Victory Ormion, God of Wind and Freedom Bormio, God of Truth and Justice Sipotain, and Goddess of Wisdom and Beauty Barshua.
It had been ages since they last met.
The high priest council convened only for demon upheavals, black mages, or equivalent continental disasters.
They gathered today at the suggestion of High Priest Thorpone of the Goddess of Mercy Neran.
Finishing their rites toward the heavens, the high priests took their seats.
Many went lifetimes without seeing each other again before death.
Their temples were in different nations, and high priests could not move freely.
"I thank all you high priests for gathering in mercy's name."
Today's convener, Neran's High Priest Thorpone, rose and bowed.
"As stated in the summons, I called you because of a heretic sufficient to bring disaster upon the continent."
The Lord God's temple was wide open on all sides.
Transparent glass formed the ceiling and walls, blurring inside from outside.
Through those glass walls, the scene unfolded.
Sky knights and hundreds of wyverns from each temple, escorting the high priests, patrolled the skies vigilantly.
Of course, no sound escaped outside.
The soundproof barrier of holy power was impenetrable.
"As you know, Neruman's lord Kair kidnapped a priestess from our temple who was in training to become a saintess. He has her confined in his territory. No servant of darkness unafraid of the gods could commit such an atrocity. Yet... our temple alone cannot confront him. To reclaim the saintess—who exists to glorify the gods—Kair is blessed by darkness like an upper demon. Thus, in Neran's name, I humbly seek your aid, fellow high priests."
By tradition, the summoner spoke first to open the council.
Thorpone's statement concluded accordingly.
"In fate's name... I heard Neruman's captive priestess of Neran entered willingly. As befits a priestess of the merciful Goddess Neran, she went to the continent's remotest suffering lands to spread the glory of the gods. Am I mistaken?"
The high priest of the God of Fate, white beard fluttering, struck at Thorpone's core.
News of Neruman had spread across the continent.
Through merchants and mercenaries visiting Neruman, the high priests knew of Saintess Armis.
"That is misinformation. Our pure priestess was seduced by the lecherous Neruman lord Kair—that is the truth our temple uncovered."
Thorpone answered smoothly, having anticipated the question.
"In wisdom's name... granting that, Neruman's lord Count Kair enjoys immense popularity among the people. He enacts true benevolence no king or noble has achieved. You all know Neruman: what a place it was. No temple here delayed construction due to its instability? Stabilizing it swiftly and repelling the Raviter Empire's invasion means Count Kair is no ordinary noble. And there is no decisive proof he violates the Lord God's laws. Unless High Priest Thorpone clarifies that, I cannot agree to a heresy trial."
High Priest Azial of the Goddess of Wisdom and Beauty Barshua—renowned for cool rationality among temples.
Not saintess-level, who appeared once every few centuries, but deeply trusted by the faithful.
'That damned wench!'
Neran's High Priest Thorpone, steeped in rage.
He inwardly cursed Azial for her strong objection.
"I understand your concerns. Thus, I do not seek a heresy verdict here. Send priests from each temple to meet Count Kair first, then judge. For the sake of this faithful servant of the merciful goddess, grant that much."
Thorpone urged direct judgment after meeting Kair, confidence unexplained.
To those with swift information, Neruman's lord Kair's heresy trial was already known.
Ratification here would be mere formality.
If the Lord God's eleven good temples demanded, a heresy investigation was mandatory.
Even god's servants were not politically free.
"I agree with High Priest Thorpone. Better to confirm personally than risk trusting a dangerous figure."
"I agree."
"I agree."
Agreements poured from the other high priests.
Neruman's lord Kair, stirring a continental storm.
If he grew stronger, they must meet him.
The Kalliyan continent's temples were saturated; no room for more.
Neruman was the last planned site.
Infinite potential, a land for massive temple contributions.
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'What incredible islands.'
After lunch on the isle of Hornpipi of Rest and takeoff, islands began appearing over the sea one by one. Soon, they filled his view.
'Is this the start of the Kesmir Archipelago?'
The Kesmir Archipelago, known for thousands—nay, tens of thousands—of islands.
Pirates dominated this vast sea, blocking intercontinental travel, monopolizing relay trade.
Crisia said Kesmir boasted seven regular fleets, plus two reserve fleets defending the archipelago.
'Skilled naval fleets and crews, plus wyverns. Unbeatable at sea.'
Kesmir had shed its pirate ancestors' past, calling itself a kingdom sustained by piracy turned legitimate.
Rivaling the Raviter Empire of the seas.
'Even leading wyverns there, their fleets would annihilate them.'
Continental chronicles recorded countless naval battles.
Especially the renowned war decades ago between Raviter Empire and Kesmir.
Raviter, occupying Perkan Kingdom, sought direct trade with the eastern continent; Kesmir blocked it.
Unfazed, Raviter concentrated national power for years, forming wyvern transports and fleets for an expedition to Kesmir.
Dozens of transports, hundreds of wyverns, hundreds of warships.
But in one night's battle, imperial pride shattered.
Shortly after leaving the Yukein River where ships were built and entering the sea.
When wyverns couldn't return to land, Kesmir wyverns surrounded from all sides.
A moonless, starless, cloudy deep night.
In sea fog, Kesmir skynights unleashed fierce bombardment.
Imperial wyverns sortied from transports.
But in impenetrable fog, they crashed or friendly-fired to death.
Terror of invisible foes gripped imperial sailors; they subdued nobles and surrendered before dawn.
They denied landing to non-surrendering wyverns and skynights; none returned to the empire.
Had Raviter not lost, surrounding kingdoms would have vanished from maps.
'That's why western powers sought sea dominance.'
Earth's medieval history textbooks noted similar naval battles.
Britain earned "empire where the sun never sets" by defeating France, rivals, especially Spain's Armada.
On Kalliyan continent now, only Kesmir deserved such a title.
'No need to make enemies. They need to eat too.'
Sea kings without rivals, but still sea-faring men risking lives on waves.
Kair had no desire to steal their bowl, bloating his own.
Merely, he hoped Kesmir merchants traded exclusively with his territory.
'Land in sight feels good.'
Flying island-to-island beat endless ocean navigation.
Trailing Crisia in the pleasant breeze.
He needed to quickly soothe Empress Heildrian and return to Neruman.
Someone surely eyed his territory even now.
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"This is the new blessed spear produced in Neruman."
The imperial palace of the Bazran Empire.
Duke Omer entered at Emperor Poltviran's summons.
He showed the emperor the new-model blessed spear captured during the prince-princess pursuit.
"Effective range exceeds three kilometers, speed about twice the original spear. Thus, battle damage would be immense."
"We cannot make these?"
Poltviran, mad gleam in eyes, was sternly raised under strict tutoring; his judgment was sharp.
He desperately wanted Neruman, but not recklessly.
He could crush Krantz Kingdom outright, but knew Neruman was strong.
"My apologies, Your Majesty. Current magic tech cannot replicate Neruman's blessed spear exactly."
Marquis Darbassin of the imperial magic tower, accompanying Duke Omer.
Not master-level but a seventh-circle user, top ten on the continent.
Yet he admitted replication impossible.
"Why? It looks no different."
Poltviran fiddled with the ordinary-seeming spear in hand, questioning.
"The magic tower analysis: Neruman's spear has a unique magic circle."
"Unique magic circle?"
"Yes, Your Majesty. Astonishingly, finished with lost ancient runes and magic circles from the magic era. So intricate low-circle mages can't discern the ancient runes etched between them."
"Magitech era runes..."
Fearless and insatiably curious Poltviran, but "magitech era" piqued interest.
"Your Majesty, but it's not impossible. Marquis Darbassin and the imperial tower developed spears inferior to Neruman's but vastly superior to basics. In air combat, one kilometer closes in a blink. With overwhelming numbers and special tactics, we can match them."
Omer, manipulating Poltviran to control the empire.
Slight plan hitches, but he held power.
Poltviran preferred satisfying curiosities over governance.
Thus, Omer handled most imperial operations, power's core.
'Neruman must be settled this time.'
Like a bone in throat, Neruman and Kair pricked painfully.
For throne stability and against threatening second prince-princess, Neruman must fall.
"And we must conquer Neruman this chance."
Answering Poltviran's call, Omer planned Neruman assault these days.
Secured tacit cooperation from humiliated magic towers, promised logistics and funds from major merchant guilds.
"Why?"
Poltviran asked with characteristic mad glint.
Caution needed.
Omer was uncle and stabilized throne, but Poltviran's temperament unpredictable.
"New intel: not only us, Raviter eyes Neruman too. Its development accelerates. Recently invented continent-shaking salt production, plus dwarves and elves aiding roads and a citadel rivaling palaces."
"Elves? Ho. Fabled elves aiding that backwater."
Omer anticipated this.
The emperor, driven by perverse lusts, would curiosity-spike at "elves."
"Yes. Not one or two, but dozens aiding Neruman. I suspect hundreds at least."
"Hundreds... that many elves."
"Your Majesty, there's a low-cost way to attack Neruman."
Omer, plans ready.
Tailored bait to emperor's changed personality.
"What is it?"
"Neruman repelled Raviter legions unscathed. Direct force conquest risks heavy losses. But with allied kingdoms' aid, one stratagem yields two gains."
Omer, veteran of Bazran politics.
A scheme chilling if kingdoms heard.
"After Krantz's fall, neighboring kingdoms harbor grudges. Weak individually, allied they'd headache. At your birthday feast in two days, decree: promise eternal alliance, have them lead Neruman conquest vanguard."
"Kahahahahahaha! As expected of uncle. I pondered those fools; what a fine method."
Poltviran roared heartily, using "uncle" after ages.
Pleased, his face beamed.
"Trust this servant alone, Your Majesty. This chance, I'll solidify the empire on bedrock. An invincible superpower!"
Omer seized opportunity.
Could not miss it.
Poltviran lived dissolutely.
If he died, who led empire after?
'Heh...'
Someone's quiet inner laugh.
Only the laughing one knew the truth.
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Whiiiiiing!
Splash! Splash!
"Lower the sails! Use incoming waves to turn!"
'Ugh! What the hell is this!'
Like sleeping under a tree and getting struck by lightning.
The last wyvern transport ship arriving Kesmir Archipelago after nonstop deadly flights.
One final rest before Heildrian Empire.
But variables struck.
After delicious dinner and deep sleep on hard-found late-night ship, typhoon-force winds hit.
The massive transport rocked like a shopping auntie's derriere at Kabare market.
Clunk.
"Kair! We must take off now!"
Crisia burst in, face urgently desperate—unseen before.
'Damn!'
Mid-blissful dream flight with Armis, shattered by natural disaster.
Heard wyverns must takeoff in strong storms.
Heavy ships risked capsizing; near storm cores, dangerous flights needed.
'Of all times, wind now.'
Flight fatigue left body limp.
Even young, all-day saddlesore hell.
"No time! Kajopne and Sharikna winds clash nearby. Delay, no takeoff chance!"
Seemed truly dire.
"A-alright."
Tadak.
With her words, Kair dashed out cabin door.
Rumble-rumble-clatter.
Shwaaaaaaaa.
Splash, splash, splash.
'Ugh! Insane!'
Worse than thought.
Rainwind blinded; ship rollercoastered acrobatically.
"Tie down tight!"
Whirrrrr.
"Uwaaaaaah!"
Then, wind-within-wind blew; one crewman whipped away, vanishing sea-ward.
'Whoa...'
Sea-viewed terror.
Rushed to Bebeto.
Grooooooo!
Bebeto, safety harness off, balanced on tilting deck.
Pop!
Leapt aboard urgently.
"Kair! If lost, fly north!"
Crisia, trailing, wind-wobbling, gripped rail, mana-amplified shout.
"Yes! Got it! Crisia, hurry!"
No helping time.
High-circle mage with vast mana, yet puny human before nature's might.
Plus Bebeto's safety responsibility.
Trusting sea-savvy Crisia, gripped reins.
"Bebeto, fly!"
Flap, flap, flap.
Shiiiiiieeeek.
'Gasp!'
Instant Bebeto spread wings per command, massive wind slammed like mast gust.
Bebeto's strength slightly lesser, wind-smashed ocean tumble.
Flap-flap, flap-flap-flap.
But not weakling Bebeto.
All-nighter stud with females, instinct-true, fresh next day.
Immense power overcame wind, ascending.
Whiiiiiing.
'Wheeeee!'
Airborne, wind propelled Bebeto to insane speeds instantly.
Thrill beyond any ride.
Near-piss terror mixed ecstasy.
Flutter-flutter-flutter.
Red cape on air plate strained taut, near-tear.
'Fuck it, you die or I live—bring it!'
Inner storm brawl spirit surged.
Clutched reins tight, flew into rainwind.
Damned storm.
Feared no obstacle in path.
Neruman's lord Kair.
Feared nothing but mother in world.