Entrance to the Demon Realm (1)
With blessings from Saintess Ashu and the Kalderan priests, our advance party boarded wagons and headed for the northern gate.
Right from the start, there was a serious psychological attack trying to rattle the advance party, but we all got drowsy from the rocking wagons and one by one drifted off to sleep, letting it fizzle out.
Everyone slept so soundly, it felt like they'd stayed up late drinking with friends before departure or gotten too excited to rest.
I dozed off myself and woke up to find Chiria the only one still wide awake, flashing me a smile as our eyes met.
"Chiria, rest when you can. Getting proper sleep on long trips is important too."
"Yes, Chiria will rest."
Chiria leaned against the wall and closed her eyes right away.
She listens so well, but I hoped she wasn't just pretending to sleep while watching me.
Chiria didn't seem to have the usual romantic views—at least not by my standards—which made me a bit uneasy.
Typically, people are drawn to each other emotionally, then physically, but from what I'd heard, she didn't see things that way.
Even in my world, there were odd marriage customs: arranged by parents, kidnapping the bride or groom, or drawing lots for a lifelong partner.
I didn't want to judge other cultures outright, but facing unfamiliar ones head-on was tough.
So, yeah.
Chiria saw me as husband material to carry on her family line.
Paradilan's advice had already confirmed it wasn't just my imagination or ego.
Her family challenged the one they'd set their heart on, turning the duel into the wedding ceremony itself.
Sometimes it was just for show since they'd already grown close, with one side throwing the fight, but true to their martial traditions, they usually went all-in, risking their lives seriously.
I recalled how irritated she'd been with me before our sparring match.
What had suddenly changed?
As I pondered, we passed one of the walls.
The north had three lines of defense against frequent monster incursions. We'd just crossed the first.
Usually, inner walls are taller than outer ones, but here the lines were kilometers apart. So the second and third near the capital were thick but only 2-3 meters high.
The first line—northern gate and entrance to the Demon Realm—was the tallest and sturdiest, visible even from the distant palace. The surrounding area was the 4th Knight Division's territory.
We'd pass that wall and head into the Atriana Mountains.
As sunset approached, we cleared the second wall too.
It was nearly half a day's wagon ride from the palace to the northern gate, so we arrived at lodgings near it.
They'd rented out an entire inn with stables.
Here, we'd check our mounts, transfer gear, and cross the gate first thing tomorrow when it opened.
After preparations, as night fell and we rested in our rooms, commotion erupted outside.
"Heard there were some royal guard pukes here—is that right?"
A dozen men with swords gathered outside the inn.
No introduction needed. Soldiers or knights from the 4th Knight Division, no doubt.
Here for revenge on their captain's killer?
Should I grab my weapons for a brawl? But Parlen blocked the way.
He flung open the door and bellowed,
"That's right! What business do you Darania thugs have?"
"Just came to say hi to the cocky royal guard bastards. Parlen, bro!"
"Still kicking, huh? Gangster Lieutenant Sider!!"
The two men bumped fists and hugged lightly.
Parlen's old comrades, apparently.
"Damn, with you here and the guy who killed the captain? Had to pay respects.
Snuck out after shift. These guys tailed me somehow.
Who's that fella?"
Parlen pointed at me standing behind him.
Everyone looked incredulous. A familiar reaction.
"Captain looks scrawny, but he takes down trolls solo. I tested him and lost good gear. Don't mouth off and get yourself killed."
"If tightfisted Parlen blew cash on him, he's legit.
Greetings to our captain's avenger. Scout Platoon Leader Sider, sir."
He offered a handshake—not to a foe, but a benefactor.
"Kirgil the Hero of Prosek."
"Whoa, you're Kirgil? The one who got Katona?"
Familiar reaction again.
Regardless of affiliation, they'd come as longtime comrades.
Parlen had been in their scout platoon too.
Perfect unit for drowning annoying superiors while fighting monsters in remote spots. In return, their camaraderie ran deep.
Prime mood for heavy drinking with old buddies, but tomorrow meant life-or-death battles.
I told Parlen to keep it from messing up our dawn departure.
His old mates invited me along.
That's when fully armored Chiria emerged, spear in hand.
"Captain Kirgil, are you heading out? If so, Chiria will…"
"No. No. Staying in. Rest up."
Chiria had planned to shadow me as usual.
"See? If I join, it'd make folks uncomfortable."
Parlen's comrades, sensing her vibe, dropped the invites.
Hard to relax with a fully armed giantess looming over drinks.
Before heading out, Parlen whispered,
"I'll gather some intel on the 4th while I'm at it."
Might just be an excuse for booze, but promising nonetheless.
Guy like Parlen knew how to handle superiors.
Handle them skillfully, that is. Problem was he knew how to deal with them too.
The next day.
A rooster's crow woke me, and we began departure prep.
Parlen returned before midnight, armed with stories to kill the boredom en route.
As we headed to the dining hall for the innkeeper's breakfast,
Chiria peeked from her room, staring at me.
"Um… Captain. A moment, please."
She mumbled softly, so I followed her inside.
She handed me a comb with both hands.
I got it.
Her long black hair was a tangled mess, like a condemned prisoner's.
Ghostly factor +10.
No choice—I spent time combing her waist-length locks.
Couldn't suggest cutting it. Women were sensitive about hair, and during our duel, it'd cleverly blocked my view, hiding her arrow prep.
Might be a weapon in its own right.
Reminded me of brushing Agnes's hair.
After coaxing her through research papers, those sessions became peaceful chit-chat time.
"Chiria, who brushes your hair at home?"
"Daddy."
"Your dad? He dotes on his girl."
"Chiria's daddy is strong."
Conversation felt off, but I got she adored and bragged about him.
"Trips ahead will be long. Won't always have time to fix it, so tidy up before bed."
"Daddy tidied Chiria's hair."
"……."
Hinting at me, huh.
Should tell Ragi later.
Better from another woman.
"Hey! What gives? Wondered why just you and Captain—sneaky, hogging him! My hair's long too! Brush it!!"
Ragi appeared, startling Chiria into hurling a chair.
Embarrassed toss, right?
Next time, a pillow. Chair crashes hurt my nerves.
Prep done, the advance party mounted up amid the distant sunrise.
Approaching Darania's northern gate—the 4th's stronghold—over a hundred armed soldiers and knights lined both sides.
And.
The gate was shut.
They planning a fight now?
Just in case, I checked weapons and loaded a bolt into Hodo's crossbow.
"Parlen, any way through without trouble?"
Parlen shook his head.
"Scouts said yesterday: atmosphere's rotten. Hoped for smooth passage, but looks like blood at dawn. Weapons out, everyone."
Paradilan and Chiria eyed me—ready to strike on my word.
Damish yelped nervously.
"A big monster's about to charge soon."
Parlen's words ended with a BOOM!!
Something slammed the gate hard.
Only then did the 4th's soldiers and knights ready shields and spears toward it.
Expected a grudge initiation after losing their captain, but this was the Demon Realm's—Atriana Mountains'—welcome ritual.
Parlen added,
"They've sniffed out Captain Garrlia's absence. Seizing the ambush chance."
His words hit with a twinge of responsibility.