Chapter 97
Chapter 97
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 97
Chapter Title: Hildrian's Beauty, Tiabel
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Chijak, chijak.
"Wow! My lord, your scything is a work of art!"
*It's nothing special.*
He couldn't bring himself to confess.
That he had once pulled a plow like an ox.
*The harvest is finally done.*
The vast golden fields stretching around the city of Denfos.
Before he knew it, they had become barren plains with only scarecrows left standing.
The monster and beast attacks were already three weeks past.
He had plastered cement to restore Siaris Fortress and stationed a full wyvern squadron there.
Leaving powerful beasts unchecked after knowing they were there would have been a sin.
"It's all finished, my lord."
He had led the soldiers defending Denfos out for civilian service.
Even amid the busyness, he wanted to share even a single drop of sweat with the hardworking territory folk.
"Are preparations for the festival going well?"
The festival of Sepir, goddess of abundance and festivities, was one week away.
There wasn't a single priest serving Sepir, but he had ordered a celebration to mark the territory's rebirth.
"Almost everything is wrapped up. We just need the circus troupe to arrive."
"You've done well."
"My efforts are nothing compared to yours, my lord."
Derbal had become much more at ease since Andriaf and Tebedian arrived.
But it surely wasn't because his workload had lightened.
Having reliable friends made him oblivious to the hardships.
"Any word from the merchant guild?"
"They departed a few days ago. I apologize for causing you worry."
"Worry? No need..."
Only when their families remaining in the Empire were safe would Derbal and the knights find true peace.
"They're arriving today?"
"This evening, they said."
"Are the salt flats complete?"
"Construction finished yesterday."
It was wonderful how well their minds aligned.
Derbal understood instantly with a single word and gave exactly the answers he wanted.
It could only be a blessing from the gods.
*Hurry up, you lot.*
Krisia from Kesmir Kingdom was due to arrive that evening for trade talks.
Magic circles couldn't operate in several places due to mana stone shortages, yet they remained leisurely.
"I'll head to the road construction site, so please handle the wrap-up here."
"Take care, my lord."
Derbal bowed politely.
"You've all worked hard."
"Huaaa!!"
Hundreds of soldiers, holding farming tools like scythes instead of weapons, shouted their cheer with vigor.
*Just a little more time, please—just a little more.*
The territory was gradually taking shape.
If time allowed, he was confident he could make it better fed and housed than anywhere else.
If the gods of fate would graciously permit it.
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"What is the meaning of this! Moving Sky Knights and soldiers to the border without royal permission!"
An emergency noble assembly in Habis Palace.
Rosiatte's icy rebuke swept through the chamber.
"Why the outrage? Have we committed treason? The palace already approved, and we notified you. Once the harvest ended, nobles and knights took up righteous blades to restore Habis Kingdom's wounded pride—yet you call it unauthorized!!"
Hanskane's insolence stormed the chamber.
Rosiatte trembled, clutching the throne.
*I'm sorry. I can no longer... with my power alone...*
She silently apologized to one man in her heart.
"In one week! For Habis royal family and kingdom, righteous knights will punish the arrogant Lord of Neruman! Lords and knights eager to join are already arriving at the border. Moreover, holy knights and priests of the merciful goddess Neran have joined the punitive expedition, affirming the gods' approval."
"Ah..."
At the words holy knights and priests, Rosiatte let slip a stifled groan.
With the temple lending a hand, she could never stop it now.
Word was that even Rabiter Empire and Bazran Empire—powers wielding great influence in Habis—had granted some form of approval.
"If Your Majesty has nothing more to say, we humbly take our leave. We won't meet for a while, so the regular noble assembly will be postponed."
Hanskane delivered his one-sided notice.
Sararak.
He bowed to the despairing Rosiatte.
Sararak.
Habis Kingdom's key nobles followed, bowing before exiting the chamber.
"Haa..."
Rosiatte clutched her rage-filled heart and exhaled a turbid breath she'd held back.
Tears streamed down her cheeks.
"I will never forgive you bastards..."
From childhood, when she first grasped the concept of thought, nobles had scorned her.
Though princess and heir to the throne, they utterly ignored Rosiatte.
No—anyone bearing the Habis name lived heads bowed, breaths held.
"Grind."
The now-empty royal chamber.
Rosiatte ground her teeth for the first time in her life.
The nobles who scorned the royal family and her.
If she could make them vanish, she vowed to sell her soul to the devil.
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Kwadudududududuk.
"Pour it slowly!"
Geugeugeugeuk.
*Impressive no matter how many times I see it.*
Admiration escaped at the elves' spirits' organic teamwork.
The elves had been aiding road construction for a month.
Contrary to expectations, they cleared 5 kilometers a day and poured cement.
Gravel and sand littered the riverbanks everywhere, and cement powder arrived daily, so progress surged.
*Just a bit more, and the lifeline opens! A massive artery to let Neruman breathe!*
From atop Bebeto, he surveyed the Neruman highway.
Completed sections were covered in soil for perfect camouflage.
The new road was far from merchant trade routes, and soldiers and slaves had no outside contact until completion.
Most Neruman residents didn't even know elves had appeared.
Territory folk clustered around Denfos anyway, so they never saw elves.
*Five more days to the border.*
Only 30 kilometers left to the primary goal.
Heaven helped—autumn brought little rain.
But the chill signaled winter's approach.
Neruman had distinct seasons, and winter was fiercer than expected.
Whiiiik.
*Narmias.*
Gliding on Bebeto, Narmias appeared beside him.
Her elf air plate's helmet resembled a mask.
Though her face was hidden, she surely wore a happy expression.
*Such timid Type-A elves.*
If venturing out, they should come all at once—instead, only about 20 appeared daily.
Excluding Narmias, faces rotated in small groups.
Kuoooo!
Bebeto, annoyed by Narmias's harpy flapping nearby, roared and beat its wings harder.
Shiiiik.
True to its half-again size over other elves', a few flaps shot it ahead.
Whiiiik.
Narmias's harpy chased undaunted, despite being a third Bebeto's bulk.
*Shall we race?*
Too busy for real talks with Narmias lately.
But sudden speed play.
Kuooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!
Bebeto snorted steam, flapping wildly as the small one pursued.
Kiaaaaa!
The harpy screeched back, wings pounding.
Hwiririring.
Rual Mountains' wind blew just then.
Parararak—his cloak whipped wildly.
A brief, sweet flight began.
A joyful moment with Narmias, whose mere presence brought happy smiles.
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*Huh, who's she?*
Late night.
Waiting at the Wing Squadron runway for Kesmir's representative, Krisia.
Near the appointed time, two wyverns slowly descended on the foreign wing runway.
Surprisingly, eyes widened at the wyvern landing beside Krisia's gray one.
*White wyvern! Wow! Like a unicorn incarnate.*
Pure white except black beak and ankles.
Mesmerized by the first white wyvern ever seen.
Its flawless snowy coat gleamed under runway magic lanterns, captivating all.
Taak.
Lost in the white wyvern, two figures jumped down.
*A woman?*
The one landing with Krisia was astonishingly a woman.
*Who’s this big sis?*
Chilly night air—both women still helmeted.
Unlike Krisia's familiar air plate, the woman wore pure white.
Her smaller, feminine air plate looked cute.
"My lord, she appears to be a Hildrian Empire Sky Knight."
Derbal whispered, watching the approaching woman.
*Hildrian? That ice empire Hildrian!!*
Northern continent's ice empire, Hildrian.
Minimal exchange meant little known.
Advanced magic, half the year winter.
*Why? What's she doing coming here?*
Sudden question arose.
Visit from unknown Hildrian Sky Knight was unexpected.
Dalkak.
Krisia approached, removing her helmet.
Chwarururuk.
Her blue hair cascaded out.
"Have you been well, Count Kayer?"
Krisia asked with a fresh smile.
"Haha, thanks to you, splendidly so. But you're later than expected. I waited neck-stretched, nearly elongating it further."
"Oh my, surely you missed me..."
The sly fox feigned surprise.
"Who knows, maybe not..."
"Disappointing. I thought of you every day."
*Eh? Me every day?*
The fox wagged her tail.
No fool, he smirked and eyed the still-helmeted woman.
*Chilly.*
Material unknown, her pure white air plate exuded nobility.
Like an ice queen's cloak, its haughtiness inspired awe.
"But who might this be..."
Dalkak.
At his question, the woman slowly unclasped her helmet.
Sarararak.
Long hair poured from within.
*Gasp! What is this!!!*
Incredibly, pure white hair flowed out.
Not some movie white-haired witch—her long locks shimmered with transparent glow.
*Hah! Killer!*
White hair was a hard concept to pull off.
On mediocre faces, it incited urges to smack.
But a blessing on clean skin and cool, intellectual faces: white hair.
The white-haired girl possessed a one-in-a-million blessed visage.
Small oval jawline.
Arching brows and eyes radiated untouchable haughtiness; white brows framed blue eyes like a winter lake's purity.
Red lips like ripened cherries in winter snow.
A beauty sculpted from ice, first of her kind.
"I'm Tiabel."
The woman with the cute, dainty name Tiabel bowed slightly in greeting.
"Pleased to meet you. I'm Kayer, lord of Neruman."
He returned the bow.
Her status was clear without words.
Charisma matching her haughtiness flowed subtly from her.
"Please, come inside. Warm tea awaits."
Post-greeting, he escorted the women with a hand gesture.
Kkuduk.
She subtly closed her eyes in thanks for his courtesy.
*Keek, living together might suffocate you.*
Tiabel's haughtiness—unbreakable even by needles.
No other word fit.
Haughtiness.
That single word defined Tiabel entirely.
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*Hah, even holding a teacup with such grace.*
Tiabel rivaled Isis princess in refined nobility.
Every motion seemed calculated.
Sipping tea across the office desk, he sat ramrod straight unwittingly.
"His Majesty accepted your proposal gladly. If Neruman stably supplies food and holy water, Kesmir will bring far greater profits than elsewhere, he said."
"Please convey our thanks for his approval."
Pirates to others, invaluable to him.
"Hoho, of course. Also, sensing your great need, I brought two rank-2 mana stones, twenty-five rank-3, fifty rank-4, and three hundred rank-5."
*Heok!*
Casual as naming a pet, yet worth tens of millions gold by simple math.
"Grateful for your consideration."
Deep sincerity in his thanks.
With those mana stones, salt flats complete, new Blast Spear prototypes built, city-scale fortification begun.
"No need for thanks. This is alliance-worthy, no?"
Krisia winked, stressing "alliance."
*Yes, let's ally. Both lonely souls anyway.*
"Alliance feels too light—blood oath suits better. Haha."
"Blood oath? Hohoho, as expected of Kayer—grand scale."
"Rather than this, how about wine?"
"Wine? Ho ho, gladly if offered."
Elated, she requested a drink.
"Tiabel, is that alright?"
*Hoo, what's her deal.*
Even Kesmir princess Krisia cautiously checked with Tiabel.
"As you please."
Tiabel's voice rang clear and cold like clinking ice.
It felt like she owned the place, not him.
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"Two eagles perched on a tree when a hunter appeared, arrowing one. The eagle falls, yelling to the hunter, 'Why only me? Get that one too!' Know what the surviving eagle said?"
One drink in, two down, third sipped merrily—atmosphere lively.
He adapted a classic sparrow tale to continental version, delighting the women.
"Oh my, that eagle's awful. Die alone, yet asks for comrade's death too..."
Healthy-skinned beauty Krisia deemed the eagle bad.
"What think you, Tiabel?"
Question turned to ever-expressionless Tiabel, listener of endless jokes.
"...Not sure."
*Liquor truly great.*
Swept by mood, Tiabel downed several glasses.
Her pale skin's faint blush was biteably cute.
"Tell us quick—what did the survivor say?"
Krisia sparkled, staring intently.
Swik.
Tiabel followed with her winter-lake blue eyes.
Curiosity twinkled in hers too.
"The survivor said to the hunter: 'That one's not dead yet—shoot another!'"
"What?! Hohohohohoho."
"Pft!"
*Oof! Joke power immense.*
Krisia roared, shaking the office.
Tiabel, infected, covered mouth with slender fingers—pft, a laugh.
Great vibe.
Grateful for leisure to banter idly with beauties.
Sparkle.
But Krisia's eyes locked his mid-laugh.
Siiik.
Mysterious smile on her lips.
Siiik.
He smiled back.
Free smile from a beauty—why not?
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*Truly captivating.*
She'd thought him unique from first sight.
No noble arrogance, playful yet earnestly committed each moment: Kayer.
Reports of his territory feats made her question his sanity.
Beyond Kesmir, defying Temer bastards eyeing Neruman, Rabiter Empire, monster hordes—foes, not friends.
Intel said mage tower, merchant guild, even temple turned.
Yet undaunted, leading territory flawlessly.
*Know that? Nearly couldn't leave kingdom because of you.*
He wouldn't know unsaid.
Kesmir's efforts on Neruman.
Yet Krisia told father king and island nobles: not conquer, ally as partner.
Nobles' instant backlash on her words.
Yet steadfast amid scolding, insisting alliance need.
Without father's support, she'd have resigned fleet command, idled palace embroidery.
*Don't disappoint. Kesmir nobles won't sit idle if you weaken.*
Alliance born of Kayer's strength.
Nobles knew his might—couldn't take swiftly, hence alliance recognition.
*Hmm, Tiabel...*
While eyeing Kayer, Krisia spotted Hildrian's haughtiest, Tiabel, blushing sidelong glances.
She shook her head lightly.
Playful, youthful Neruman lord's subtle charm.
Once tasted, hard to escape.
Gentle brother, mischievous brother, sturdy father—multifaceted allure.
Seeing him uplifted moods, confirmed each meeting.
"Time to go. Mana stones now; food and holy water in Romero season when Kajopne winds calm."
Time up, reluctant farewell.
"Thanks. Krisia's warmth forever remembered."
"Hoho, your words suffice thanks."
Krisia tasted soaring bliss from one phrase.
Unknowing, she'd entangled in inescapable fate's web.
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"Hehe..."
Late-night visitors left fragrant memories.
Heavy mana stone sack in hand thrilled him.
"Grateful or resentful to them?"
Neran shrine's lights out.
New-mother-busy Armis likely slept, exhausted raising five wyverns.
No date time even.
Shwiririring.
Cold wind blew.
Autumn's Luchakat winds shed wanderer garb; winter Kajopne strode, caressing Neruman.