Younger Sister. (1)
Gargoyles and trolls. These two beasts, sharing similar habitats, are infamous as the vanguard of the southern migration, heralding the start of war. Forest trolls are particularly swift on their feet, while gargoyles are fiercely aggressive flying monsters.
“……”
I gazed down at them from the walls of Recor Dak.
One horde shook the earth as it advanced, while the other tore through the skies. Nothing special about the beasts themselves, but their sheer numbers filled the horizon—an impressive sight.
“……Prepare.”
I raised my right hand. Nineteen strands of lumber steel floated up behind me. The soldiers' automatic ballistae aimed at sky and ground. Knights' mana rose from the ramparts.
“Fire.”
A declaration without fanfare.
Kuudududuk—!
Triggers pulled, ballistae thundered. Not arrows, but harpoons—straight lines that swept earth and sky.
Kwaaagagagagwa—!
A relentless barrage. Arrows loosed without specific targets shattered trolls and gargoyles. Wings tore, necks pierced.
Shwaaaaak—!
Between them, lumber steel pierced through.
The nineteen metals moved like lightning. Infused with my mana, they had already surpassed the speed of sound.
Arriving before the sound, slicing only vital points, cleanly handling hundreds, thousands.
“……Raaargh—!”
A roar echoed. It was Ifrin. She condensed wind into blades and fired. A gargoyle's body split into thirds.
“Hup!”
“Syrio enters the fray!”
Julie and Syrio followed, leading the knights forward. They leaped eagerly from the walls, overwhelming the beast hordes with swordsmanship and magic.
“……”
Among those hundreds of knights, my eyes unconsciously followed Julie. Her swordplay bloomed like a gentle flower even on this battlefield…….
“Boss. Where are you looking?”
Ruina tapped my shoulder.
I unleashed the lumber steel once more.
Graaaaaah—!
Trolls and gargoyles bellowed across the field. But it was noise alone—the walls held firm.
Hundreds of knights they couldn't match rampaged, backed by dozens of mages and ballistae.
It was a massacre.
“I'm leaving this to you.”
I told Ruina. She nodded.
I had other business.
……While the battle raged on.
Jaken, the Altiegue infiltrator in the merchant caravan, slipped away quietly.
From a tribe harboring deep resentment toward the Empire, proudly aligned with the Altar, he had always intended to bring Recor Dak down.
“Ahem.”
Pretending to sightsee, he left the lodging. He ordered the remaining tribesmen to stand watch, then headed alone to the food warehouse he'd scouted earlier.
“……There it is.”
Not just the caravan's supplies, but Recor Dak's lifeline. Destroy this, and Deculein wouldn't survive here…….
“Well guarded.”
The warehouse had layers of magical security, but he'd anticipated that.
He affixed a scroll to the warehouse door. A top-grade detonation spell from the Altar. As he channeled mana into the paper.
“What're you doin' yeo?”
“……!”
Jaken startled and turned. His heart and guts twisted like they'd knotted inside him—kraaak.
“……W-What are you?”
Regaining composure, he saw just a single child.
“You can't come out right now yeo. Total disaster.”
Jaken brushed off his anxiety and shook his head.
“I can protect myself, kid. You go inside.”
“What's that yeo? You just stuck somethin' on the warehouse.”
“……None of your business. You from the mountain folk?”
Jaken hid the scroll with his body and asked.
“Nah, I'm an adventurer yeo.”
“……Adventurer?”
“Yeah. Lia.”
This kid, an adventurer?
Jaken scanned her up and down.
Around 150 cm—could pass for a teen, but her face was too childish for anyone to buy it…… He frowned.
“Ridiculous. No lies, now—scram—”
In that instant, the child moved. One step to the warehouse wall, eyeing the detonation scroll.
“……Hey! What are you doing!”
“This a detonation scroll yeo?”
“W-What, that's…… Get lost!”
Jaken shoved her. As he heated the scroll with mana.
“Move even a little, and you're dead.”
A dagger pressed to his throat. Jaken froze, eyes rolling back to see.
Lia glared at him, sharper than any assassin.
“……Gulp.”
“Don't even swallow.”
“……”
Thud—
Footsteps approached. Jaken and Lia both turned.
“So here you were.”
There stood Deculein. Not alone. With him were Jaken's caravan—thirty-nine mercenaries, bound.
All tethered by Deculein's steel wires.
“……Jaken, was it.”
Lia lowered her dagger. Deculein approached, glaring. Jaken was drenched in sweat.
“Kneel.”
“……Ah. I……”
“Before I tear your limbs off and kill you.”
The command crushed him. He knelt unwittingly—legs gave out.
Rip—
Lia peeled off the scroll and handed it to Deculein. He glanced at her.
Lia beamed.
“Gonna praise me yeo?”
“Supplies are already relocated.”
Deculein passed by. Lia pouted playfully.
Reaching Jaken, Deculein spat contemptuously.
“Fool.”
Then bound him with steel wire.
“……Ugh!”
“Scum like you sets Altiegue's future back.”
Lia observed Deculein briefly.
A face like Kim Woojin, yet endlessly cold.
Jaken, no named character, had guts entering the tiger's den—but against Deculein, survival odds were nil.
“……Hey. Professor. What're you gonna do with them yeo?”
Lia feigned curiosity. Deculein's head tilted toward her.
Most indifferently, most murderously, he intoned.
“I said it earlier. Tear their limbs off and kill them.”
……Tear their limbs off and kill them.
Arriving at Recor Dak's ridge, Elesol watched it all.
She hugged her knees, pondering.
[Sign Language]
What will you do, Elder?
Desert sentry "Deulkon" asked cautiously. Elesol signed silently.
[Sign Language]
What to do. Yeriel is currently.
“Sleeping in the barrel, it seems.”
Elesol nodded.
[Sign Language]
Foolish act. Jaken of the Red Blood Tribe.
“Yes. Indeed.”
[Sign Language]
This must not reach the Imperial Palace.
Even just Altiegue attacking Deculein would trigger the gas chambers immediately.
Thus, Deculein's assassination required no identifiable suspects.
[Sign Language]
No choice. We use our own methods.
“Methods…… Elder. May I ask what happened with the Grand Elder?”
[Sign Language]
If you knew, it wouldn't be a method anymore.
“……Yes.”
Deulkon fell silent. Elesol recalled her recent meeting with the Grand Elder.
She had strongly advocated assassinating Deculein. The Grand Elder tried to dissuade her but, realizing failure inevitable, handed over a ledger.
It recorded the Grand Elder's trait: "Altiegue's Registry of Names."
[Sign Language]
We execute Jaken.
Elesol signed.
[Sign Language]
For that, I enter alone. Tonight, to Deculein.
“But Elder, the opponent is Deculein—”
[Sign Language]
It's fine.
She turned. "Spatial Distortion Carriage" crafted by Eli's talent. Inside slept Yeriel.
[Sign Language]
This time, he'll know too. There's no way out…….
Thud—! Thud—! Thud—!
Night fell. A massive moon and stars rose. Severe winter cold settled like frost.
But battle continued. Troll and gargoyle numbers dwindled, yet their advance columns remained endless.
“Julie. We'll head out first.”
Gwen said. After eight hours, knights weren't tired but bored.
“Yes. Rest well.”
Julie volunteered for watch. With 500 beasts per hour, couldn't leave to soldiers and prisoners alone.
“Yeah~ Take it easy~”
“……”
Julie leaned on the wall, reading Deculein's report. Not alone—Reyli beside her.
“That report really worth reading?”
“……Sound advice.”
“No, swordsmanship's your expertise……”
“I thought so too. But must acknowledge merit. That professor has the skill to teach theory to anyone.”
“Still…… Ah! Trolls there!”
Reyli pointed afar. Trolls gripping tree clubs. Julie charged, sword flashing.
“Ah! Gargoyles up there!”
Now skies. She repelled flapping gargoyles with icy sword winds.
Five such skirmishes, perhaps.
“……You alright?”
A voice from above. Julie looked up.
Deculein's assistant Ifrin and colleague Helmir. Waving down at her.
“Yes. I'm fine.”
“You were rushing around. We're here—no need to overdo it.”
“……”
Julie shook her head. Meaning fine.
Helmir said.
“That stubborn fool won't listen.”
Julie narrowed eyes upward. Helmir waggled brows.
“It's true. So stubborn, forced into engagement with that old Deculein.”
Reyli and Ifrin flinched. Julie replied lowly.
“……Don't speak of that.”
“I think your personality brought it on. Should've picked me. Too late now, though.”
“Helmir. Quiet!”
Reyli snapped. Helmir smirked, shaking head.
“Hey, Ifrin. Your take?”
“……On what.”
Ifrin grumbled.
“Deculein and that stubborn knight.”
Julie pretended not to listen. Ifrin glanced between Helmir above and Julie below.
“……Professor Deculein doesn't seem to hate it that much.”
“Oh? But that Dayia knight hates Deculein to death, they say.”
Julie looked up again. But that much was true.
She still hated Deculein. Resentment for Veron and Rockfel—she'd repay someday.
“……Don't. You both might regret it.”
Ifrin's words then. Muttered bitterly, she scampered off—tatdatdak.
“……What was that.”
Helmir puzzled. Julie stared blankly at her back.
No time for leisure, though.
Graaaaaah—!
Afar, another gargoyle and troll wave approached.
Graaaaaah—!
In Recor Dak's mansion. By the window, I stared toward the roar. Beyond walls, endless trolls again.
This would repeat through the migration. No sleep, no rest.
“……”
I sipped wine. Then to the presence behind.
“Speak.”
Lingering since earlier. From the entrance, an intruder not bothering to hide.
[Sign Language]
…….
I turned. A fox-masked figure.
“Who are you.”
[Sign Language]
No need to know.
The woman signed.
Sign language. Woman.
Those clues alone hinted at her identity.
I asked.
“Same kind as the ones I imprisoned outside?”
She nodded calmly.
“Accomplices?”
[Sign Language]
No. Not accomplices. We came to punish them in your stead.
“Not the same Altiegue?”
[Sign Language]
They collaborate with the Altar. We are independent. Not all Altiegue are the same.
A scoff escaped naturally.
Not all Altiegue are the same. True, but reeks of evasion.
“What then. Release them?”
[Sign Language]
The Altar knew. Jakal and others would fail this mission.
“Divide and conquer?”
[Sign Language]
Yes. Report this to the Palace, gas chambers activate. Innocent Altiegue—men, women, children—massacred.
“Don't report?”
[Sign Language]
……Yes.
I nodded.
“Very well. I shall investigate thoroughly. If true, I comply. But those I captured, I kill.”
[Sign Language]
Cannot allow that.
“Why.”
[Sign Language]
Lowly or not, tribesmen. We kill our own. And you should heed me.
“……”
I paused calmly. That irked me.
“Threat? Do you know who I am.”
[Sign Language]
Not threat. Legitimate exchange.
“Exchange.”
[Sign Language]
Yes.
She snapped fingers. Mana flowed, an image appeared.
Bound Yeriel.
“……”
[Sign Language]
Tomorrow. Same time. Where Recor Dak's eyes can't see. Exchange hostage then.
I stared. Rising fury calmed me instead.
She continued signing.
[Sign Language]
Refuse, and we reveal what you don't know to the world.
“……Don't know?”
[Sign Language]
Yes.
I crossed arms silently. She scanned me, signed calmly.
[Sign Language]
Your sister Yeriel is not Yukline blood.
“……”
That I knew well. Still, mustn't go public.
Lumber steel in my pocket stirred with killing intent.
[Sign Language]
Moreover, Yeriel's lineage is…….
As I unleashed lumber steel to kill her.
[Sign Language]
Our tribe. Altiegue.
The mansion air stagnated briefly.