Chapter 416
Chapter 416
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 416
Chapter Title: Chapter. 18. Railed (20)
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Clang!
Kaaang!
Axes and pitchforks tied to ropes caught on the speeding train,
“Hold on! Hold on even if you die!!! They’re starting to shoot from the walls!”
“Rip them off! If we slow down here, we’re exposed to the bombardment! Kill them all!!!”
Amid the explosive booms of the arcane shooters that sounded like bursting air, wet, sticky noises mixed in.
Kwaduduk!
Someone who charged clumsily got shredded between the massive wheels.
Pang!
A mana bullet burst a bloodshot eyeball.
Kwaaaang!
The fortress city’s artillery made them explode, burn, and turn into a handful of meat chunks.
In an instant, the sacrifices surpassed two digits, and the machine, thickened with human grease, let out a heavy groan.
“The ‘obstacles’ Naelda mentioned.... this is what she meant?”
“Yeah. Shocked?”
No. Not at all. This kind of scene was so familiar it made me sick.
The reason I was rattled wasn’t this spectacle.
It was ‘why’ they were charging so desperately.
‘Brainwashing? No. Those are eyes charging of their own will.’
Desperation. The same desperation as soldiers charging a machine gun nest on a hill, hinting that something beyond life itself was the ‘final pillar’ holding them to this harsh world.
The answer flashed by in the houses amid the shredding people. In the shadows flickering at the windows.
‘....Merit badges. They’re moving people as rewards for a kind of contribution points.’
[Th-this time we can get in!]
[The city bells are ringing!]
The dying man’s scream-like shout as he lunged at the train.
Of course, livable spots in the fortress city were limited, and those who couldn’t claim one were left in the perilously soft ground outside.
The only place they could somewhat live was the land around the tracks, compacted for the railway as part of the city’s long-cherished project. Just four or five steps on either side of the tracks—they built houses there, eking out a living.
It was like living right behind a swarm of man-eating sharks, except those sharks hated humans with clear intent and could leap nearly two meters out of the water.
[This time we can get in!]
The man’s final cry wasn’t for himself. Probably for his home at the edge of that cliff without a bottom. A desperate hope for whoever he left behind in that shack.
“If they die so meaninglessly.... does the city even acknowledge them?”
Click—
Pang!
“They pretend to. When the fortress city is in crisis. They pick a few of the dead from these reckless chargers and hand citizenship to their surviving families.”
“Pick... them?”
“Yeah. The clerk just pulls a list, picks a few names at random. It’s a gamble. Stake is your life, prize is your family’s lives. Even though Rail Village is built on artificially reinforced terrain, walk five steps with your heels together and you’ll see land cave bugs leaping like salmon from the outskirts. Living there, most die anyway.”
Thung!
“Uwwwaaaah!!!”
Jjeok!
“So, as you see. They’ve got no food at home but always stash hallucinogenic mushrooms, waiting for the city bells. They crawl so footsteps don’t kill their kids at five or ten, but even that doesn’t last long. They’re desperate to escape even a hour sooner.”
Paaang!
“That’s.... pathetic.”
I muttered while shooting off an arm breaking through the passenger window. The train rocked wildly—probably a direct hit from the fortress city’s mana cannon—as one side of the ceiling caved in.
Kwaang!
“Whoops, some idiot misfired at the train.”
“Misfired?”
“Yeah. From what I was saying earlier, would the city target us or the others? They fired so many shots and only now one hit.”
“Oh.”
“Hey, don’t stick your head out, it’ll get cut off. No need to look, right? The Rail Village we passed, it’s probably flattened by the fortress city’s barrage by now?”
The fortress city was at capacity. New citizens gaining spots meant someone lost theirs.
The city’s bombardment spared the train not out of admiration for the engineer or magitech train. It was just to kill as many leftover Rail Villagers as possible to protect their own spots.
Things invisible from inside the city became starkly clear the moment you stepped out.
Pure survivalism, selfishness, utter desperation. City dwellers living lives of labor and pain, and people throwing away lives like twigs to seize that slave-like existence.
Bwooooouuu—!
“Sis! Engine’s fully heated!”
Taaang!
“Full throttle. Finally escaping this damned city.”
At Naelda’s word, fireman Gerry pulled the lever. With a click, the magitech engine kicked in, and the train accelerated in a flash.
Tak!
Crack!
“Aaack—!”
“Uaaah—”
Boltus sliced the ropes of the blood-soaked people dangling like kites, and the last intruder on the Rail Ship vanished.
“....We’re out.”
“No place to sit.... damn it.”
Thud. Thud!
Exhausted more in spirit than body, the crew began collapsing one by one.
The magitech train streaking along, trailing a long tail of smeared blood, seemed to foreshadow Rail Ship’s fate ahead.
Chijik— chijijik!
[Gilder. Young master’s role more important than expected.... catalyst still in Boltus’s bedroom? By night, ready to execute plan?]
“....Yes. No issues here. None at all.”
Amid the weary breaths, I cleared my throat and replied to the soul sorcerer’s voice.
From 4th World’s view, today’s events were no problem at all.
That’s how it had to be taken.
“Wh-what the hell is going on? C-can you explain...? Young master? How did this....”
Not just me—Cartrea, involuntarily turned from livestock to wild beast among them, too.
****
Clunk clunk. Clunk clunk.
The train that left in the morning now raced toward the evening glow.
Having barely wiped off the bloodstains, the train still reeked of blood. Cartrea, amid the crude facilities and preserved dried mushrooms and lard, somehow whipped up edible food.
I’d wondered why they ate nothing but these mushrooms forever—turns out 4th World’s bedrock terrain limited farming. Luckily, the nutrient-packed universal food, dwarf-special ‘oyster mushrooms’ growing nearly two meters, thrived with just moisture and organics, shifting humanity’s staple from grains to mushrooms.
Thus, Rail Ship’s provisions: dried mushrooms, fresh mushrooms, mushroom powder, mushroom tea, pork that grew fine on mushrooms, lard, pork rind, and mineral seasonings like rock salt. Without skilled Cartrea, we’d have chewed dried mushrooms for months.
Clunk clunk. Clunk clunk.
“So the Tarigden Archipelago....”
“....It’ll shock you, but that’s the truth and why we’re hunted....”
From a few cars away came Naelda explaining the Tarigden Archipelago’s truth and our situation to Cartrea.
“What’re you thinking so hard about?”
“....Just. This morning we massacred over a hundred civilians we didn’t even know, and now we’re worrying about food and survival.... Feels wrong to slip back to normal so easily.”
As Rail Ship regained routine, I was doing push-ups before Boltus sipping tea at the car’s end.
Chijik—
[....Teus, chijik— catalyst, sleep still in— chijik!]
“Hup, not yet.... Boltus is on watch, hngh! Until catalyst’s exposed unguarded, it’ll take, tiiiime!!!”
Thud!
“Huff, huff! Five sets, dooone!”
“Good. Soul sorcerer’s comms again just now. That casual reply okay?”
“Huff, anyway, their signal’s crap too, so broken words work fiiiine! Huff!”
“True. Magitech trains are tough for magic. Packed with anti-magic circuits via public magic stones everywhere. One more day, long-range comms won’t reach at all.”
True to his word, Boltus trained me brutally. Stretched out exhausted, I stuck out my tongue at his fiendish heart handing hot tea to the boy, carefully lifting the cup. Hot, hot.
“Comms cut.... Then Brasstoll might scrap their plan?”
“Dunno. Soul sorcery’s uniquely vast even among magic, hard to predict tricks. Same spell, methods vary wildly. No pursuit now, so fortunate to focus there.”
“Hmm....”
‘Other methods. Other methods....’
Hard to think Brasstoll bet everything on a sudden nine-year-old. Before I interfered, they had plans for the Rail Ship raid.
‘If they planned to load knights and overwhelm, cutting tracks would’ve solved it.’
Happy fantasy aside, given soul sorcerers gathered underground in Brasstoll, better ditch that hope.
Soul sorcery. Soul sorcery....
“Boltus. Are soul sorcerers numerous?”
“....Depends on benchmark.”
“As regular mages?”
“Plenty. Three, maybe four times earth mages, the most common.”
“....Why?”
From Aldrich’s tales past, I’d heard how soul sorcerers form.
Tragedy strikes, soul shatters, spiritually gifted contractor bonds evil spirit, patching shattered soul with it—thus the spiritual symbiont, soul sorcerer.
Tragedies abound, ghosts from dead plenty understandable, but where’d they get evil spirits? Shards fine enough to slip into cracked human souls....
‘....Huh?’
“Uh.... do soul sorcerers use shards?”
“Found the answer yourself. Soul sorcerers made of spiritual gift, tragedy, evil spirit. Post-leyline twist, spiritually gifted kids boomed. Cause being tragedy, most had huge soul cracks. And utterly vile spirits? Even I’ve got several now.”
Oh god. That’s why so many soul sorcerers?
“Post-worldfall, ask most advanced field—everyone says soul sorcery first. Shard Knight’s a branch from it, so undeniable progress. Also, soul sorcery school’s one of biggest powers on this shattered continent. If they’re serious, too early to relax.”
“That why you’re alone in this far car? Worried about other tricks besides my catalyst?”
“....”
Slurp—
“Told you a million times: if I snap here, everyone dies.”
“What about me?”
“One person’s fine beside.”
Boltus eyed the pistol bulging from my inner pocket. Thing Naelda tossed me when killing earlier.
“When time comes, use without hesitation.”
“No need to ask. Don’t wanna die.”
“No ask needed. Your duty. You’re my squire.”
Clunk clunk. Clunk clunk.
Amid rhythmic train noise, women’s voices sharpened faintly.
“Sounds like fighting?”
“First meetings with Naelda usually end like that.”
“No need to go?”
“Stay. Going makes it worse.”
Amid the squawking, Boltus calmly drew a leather map from his coat.
“Naelda plans to live and die like this, but I see hope for Rail Ship.”
“Oh ho.”
“Our destination now’s part of chasing that hope.”
“Hope.... where to?”
“Relay Station.”
Tap.
Boltus pointed to a spot on the map. Small green dot amid black dotted rail lines.
“Follow this track, hit Straug-Brasstoll joint dev area. Brasstoll troops heavy there, so avoid unless head-on clash.”
“Luckily, branch track station before that. Acts as mid-stop for trains, relays long-range comms when magic fails like now for you and sorcerer. Small outpost on bedrock, not big enough for city.”
Hm.... mid-stop. Outpost....
“So ultimately noble house facility? No different from developed dungeon-cleared zones.”
“This one’s trustworthy. Guy we know runs it as stationmaster. Retired Rail Ship engineer we pensioned off handsomely manages it.”
“Oh.”
Boltus said with faint smile.
“Can rest a bit here. Bedar’s reliable.”
“....Hope so.”
Train paths limited anyway, so trust for now.
“It will be. Now sleep. Fall fast to avoid dozing on watch.”
Clunk clunk. Clunk clunk.
Sun set, firemen and watchers aside, crew closed heavy lids on weary day.
Me, Naelda, even visiting Cartrea. Each leaned on seat and thin blanket, eyes shut.
....Click.
Too languid a night for all to hear the faint shard click.
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