Chapter 263: Change, Change, Change
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 263: Change, Change, Change
Since ancient times, the continent's leading strategists, military leaders, and commanders had all sought to create magic units.
In other words, they wanted to gather mages and mold them into an armed force under their direct command.
"If we gather mages and form an army, they could become a force to rival the knight orders!"
The first fool to have this idea was quick to put his words into action.
He wandered the continent, gathering those who knew a thing or two about spells, and promised them the world—from providing research locations and supplies to fulfilling their deepest, darkest desires.
Dozens of mages gathered to form a single group.
And thus, the Devil's Womb was born.
Of course, they didn't call it the Devil's Womb from the start.
"Let us call it the Tower of Wisdom."
That was the name they chose, but later historians dubbed the place the Devil's Womb.
Why?
Considering what those bastard mages did when they gathered—spawning a demon and twelve Balrogs—it was a perfectly natural name.
The Nameless Demon—or at least, the humans of that era didn't have the luxury of naming him, so he was simply called the Nameless Demon—swept through three neighboring territories, raised an undead army, and claimed the title Father of the Dead.
The twelve Balrogs who served him also fought true to their reputation as monsters born for battle, brawls, and war.
It was an event that occurred somewhere between legend and history, if not outright myth.
And that demon still existed.
Ultimately, the most renowned knight orders from across the continent marched out to drive out the demon nicknamed Father of the Dead, also known as The Last Door of Life.
The demon fought and fought before finally retreating into the Demon Realm.
That was the history of how the demon known as the Father of the Dead came to coil himself deep within the Demon Realm.
[Possessing an immortal, undying body and soul, that demon shall never be slain by human hands.]
People used to refer to the demon with such words.
If only they had learned their lesson. Even after that catastrophe, many still attempted to organize mages.
Some were said to have succeeded, but well, none of their ends were pretty.
Rebellions, spell overloads, or mages slaughtering one another even without being provoked.
"They are an uncontrollable element of instability."
Later, the Empire unofficially labeled mages as such, and there was even a period of witch hunts and magic suppression.
Nowadays, most people lowered their eyes in fear and awe whenever they saw a witch. The same went for how they viewed mages.
What was the lesson learned here?
Mages are fickle, self-centered troublemakers who could go off the rails at any moment.
Even so, there were still those who secretly befriended mages or established the position of Court Mage in their kingdoms. But the general consensus was that it was strictly a business relationship.
Encrid thought to himself as he looked at Esther.
He had just finished subduing a Frok alongside the Elf Company Commander, and the bastard was still unconscious.
And then there was Esther.
This panther was just staring intently at him, looking thoroughly displeased about something.
I have a complaint.
He could feel it even without her speaking.
His sixth sense and intuition, which had merged and blended his crushed five senses into a new eye, spoke to him.
'What's her deal?'
"Oho."
Just before they parted, the Elf Company Commander had let out an inscrutable exclamation.
"See you again, onion fiancé. I pray for the day I can peel away your layers, one by one, and see you completely bare."
Why on earth was she making that prayer to him?
Encrid was puzzled, but since she wasn't someone you could converse with using common sense anyway, he simply sent her on her way.
"Run along now."
She had also suggested they interrogate the Frok together, and he had agreed.
Back in his barracks, Esther kept staring at him with a strange look, which was why he had recalled the history of mages causing trouble.
Wasn't she also a witch? Who knew what she might do?
"What is it?" he asked.
Rather than beating around the bush and ruining their relationship, he preferred to ask directly. That was Encrid.
He thought it again: she was a witch. A witch who could even transform into a panther. A witch who, for some reason, preferred being a panther over a human.
But this was a misunderstanding.
Esther had to maintain her panther form due to a curse; she wasn't doing this because she liked it.
Well, everything had two sides, and where there were advantages, there were bound to be disadvantages. The curse of beastification wasn't entirely a bad thing.
For a genius witch who had opened her own spell world before she grew up, extracting something useful from a curse was child's play.
Of course, the catalyst for all of this was the man standing before her.
'Why?'
At first, there was only doubt.
When she was held in his arms, the power of her curse faded. If the curse was a tangled ball of yarn, it was as if the mess unraveled on its own.
If she had severed it by force, her spell world would have been contaminated and ruined, but there was no such danger if she found the starting point and slowly unraveled it.
The man was someone who could effortlessly untangle the threads of a curse.
Because of that, she had stayed here, falling asleep and waking up in his arms.
'Why?'
The questions continued. To a witch, such doubts were poison.
Therefore, she had to delve deeper. She had to ponder it over and over. Because that was the correct path.
Of course, she had plenty of other things to do besides ponder.
She had modified the summon she first placed in her spell world and acquired various items to extend the duration of her human form. Though it was still insufficient, unless she could kidnap some master of alchemy, she had gathered everything she possibly could for now.
Afterward, there was the process of refining her spell world once again. She couldn't afford to stupidly fall victim to such a pathetic curse again.
Esther also had a goal. Something she had to do after overcoming the curse. Broadly speaking, there were two things.
One was revenge. She had to go drive a fire arrow straight into the skull of the bastard who did this to her.
The second was of a different nature, but it was the ultimate purpose for which she had originally learned magic.
'For the world must be ruled by magic.'
To establish a new world once again through spells. Even if an era of ruin came in the process—where thousands of humans and other races died, nations fell, the land rotted, and lakes turned black.
'If it must be so, then so be it.'
Since when had she held this goal? Was it back when she was called the Witch of Fire? Or was it when she was known as the Blue-Eyed Sage?
Regardless, it was a resolve she had harbored since then. Through magic, spells, and mystery, the world would be reshaped.
Grrr.
Lost in thought, Esther bared her fangs slightly without realizing it.
Unfazed by this, the man reached out and stroked her head.
"Are you sulking?"
Thoroughly displeased with his tone, she gave his hand a light bite. It must have hurt, but the blue eyes peering through his black hair only smiled.
"That hurts, you brat."
His way of speaking was still annoying, but she let it slide. Looking at that smiling face, she couldn't even bring herself to stay angry.
He really did have an incredibly handsome face.
Within Esther lay a massive, unyielding will and purpose to overturn the world. She had harbored and nurtured it. That was how it had always been, but recently, her thoughts had begun to change.
It was the first change she had experienced in over a hundred years. If the curse was the beginning of the change, this man was its end.
'Why?'
Why did she find herself rooting for him whenever she looked at him? Why did she want to see his future? Why did she want to help him? Why was it enjoyable to watch the blade he wielded?
While she was lost in these thoughts, the man had left for the neighboring territory. She thought he would return quickly, but days passed and he did not.
Going to look for him felt bothersome, yet waiting around was equally irritating. She needed his embrace. She had to suppress the curse's energy once more. But for Esther, sorting out her thoughts came first.
'In the spell world, stray thoughts are poison.'
They could become a terrifying poison. A poison that affected the mind was twice as dangerous as one that harmed the body. This was a fact proven by countless mages.
Just as she was refining the poison in her heart and once again needing the energy lingering in his embrace, the man finally slipped back.
And then, without even looking for her or seeing her, he went out again. She heard a Frok had arrived, but why did he look like he had just been playing around with that pointy-eared elf?
'Why do I want to hit him?'
Esther didn't know why she was acting like this, but she didn't dwell on it deeply. If something like this happened again, she would simply do as her heart pleased.
She was a witch, a mage. They were inherently selfish seekers of the unknown who prioritized their own spell worlds above all else. It was perhaps only natural that the man before her had entered her sphere of curiosity.
'How can someone be like that?'
She had met and seen hundreds of people who claimed to be skilled with a sword. But he was the first of his kind. Even reflecting back to the days when she was first called a witch, she had never seen such a figure.
How could she not be intrigued?
"Want to go check out the market? I took a quick look, and they seem to be selling a lot of things."
At those words, Esther stood up. She cleared away the poison that had entered her spell world.
'As my heart pleases.'
She decided to do just that.
When the sulking Esther stood up, Encrid scooped her up into his arms.
"Are you going to the market? Then let's go together."
"What about that Frok?"
"Whatever he took, he's still completely out of it. That drug is potent."
"Did you find out what it is?"
As he stepped outside, adjusting Esther in his arms, he saw Rem beating the crap out of Dunchabel. He also saw Audin and Teresa sitting blankly.
Should I bring them along too?
The thought crossed his mind, so he asked, but they all shook their heads.
"I seek to find the answer to the question the Lord has given me," Audin spouted nonsense.
"I am Wandering Teresa. It is time to train. For our next spar." Teresa, who was just as serious about training as he was, was literally drenched in sweat.
"I'm busy. Go play by yourself. I mean, really, can't you even go to the market alone without me? People will think I'm your father," Rem barked.
Instead of pointing out that he was actually older, Encrid stared intently at Dunchabel.
"Land a hit on him. You can do it."
As he offered his encouragement, the beastman woman's eyes blazed like never before.
"I shall obey."
"Oh? You've lost your mind. Let's have a truly exhilarating training session today." Rem grinned from ear to ear upon seeing that. He seemed thrilled that his opponent was showing a willingness to fight.
He was a madman through and through.
Sachsen was nowhere to be seen, and Ragna was, unusually, swinging his sword here and there, so Encrid didn't dare disturb him.
And so, they set off toward the market.
He bought some seasoned jerky that Esther loved, and some marmalade. He heard they had brought over a few master bakers from Martai this time, so there would be plenty of things to eat and see.
No, that wasn't all. He hadn't noticed before because he had only caught fleeting glimpses while rushing back and forth.
"Doesn't it feel like a lot has changed?" Encrid said, scratching behind Esther's ear with his finger.
Esther, snuggled against his chest, let out a pleased purr.
Krais replied nonchalantly to his captain's words.
"You can say that again."
It had changed. He hadn't looked closely at the market streets lately, but...
"That Marcus fellow... man, he's truly a madman."
He meant it in a good way. Krais briefly summarized what he had seen and heard.
"He's spending Krona like a colt with its tail on fire."
Sunlight poured down from a cloudless sky. It was remarkably good weather for a northern winter. The number of people bustling through the market had multiplied, and the inns were bursting at the seams.
The inn called Vanessa's Amber Soup was undergoing a full expansion. Laborers could be seen carrying timber and stone blocks. And it wasn't just happening at that inn. The streets, the castle gates, the walls, and all sorts of buildings were bustling. Crowds of workers swarmed everywhere.
"From what I've gathered..."
As he listened to Krais's explanation, the actions of Battalion Commander Marcus painted a vivid picture in his mind.
*
"Let's build some more watchtowers."
"Excuse me?"
"Ah, and dig a moat in front of the inner castle gate."
"...We don't have the manpower for that. And we don't even have an outer wall."
"Then we'll build one."
Marcus didn't get angry at his adjutant's words. He was highly experienced, and he didn't assume everyone around him was smart.
'It would be weird if the world were full of people like Encrid.'
In truth, the vast majority of humans were stupid. Idiots. Marcus knew this fact all too well. So he didn't bother explaining.
"Send out the barracks troops."
"Huh?"
"A lot of mercenaries are coming in from outside, right? Hire them all. Hire them and put shovels in their hands."
It was an initiative that started in a corner of his office. Marcus's will was clear, and his direction was firm. He brooked no objections.
"Erect the watchtowers."
The construction of the moat and the watchtowers proceeded simultaneously. They demolished the slums on the outskirts of the territory and hired all the slum dwellers to work as laborers.
"From now on, those who do not work shall neither eat nor sleep."
Anyone trying to cause trouble in the meantime? How dare they.
Right now, a single word from the Border Guard Battalion Commander could bring down a bird from the sky. Even if a dragon flew by, his words could strip away at least one of its scales. Every battlefield he had shared with Encrid had lent him strength.
Above all, as the territory recently developed into a trading hub, local tax revenues had surged. In short, the territory was growing wealthy.
Marcus lined his own pockets a little in the process, but he funneled most of it back into investments.
They dug a moat, but instead of doing something crazy like hauling water to fill it, they simply dug it deep. It was enough to prevent battering rams or close-range siege weapons from approaching. Drawing in a waterway could easily be done later.
They also dug a few more wells. This had actually begun quite some time ago. It was something he had started before the crowds even gathered. When the population grew, water and food issues had to be resolved first. That was how Marcus operated.
He continued to move relentlessly after that.
"Train archers. If there are any mercenaries who are decent with a bow, hire them and coax them into joining the army."
He also implemented a bold talent cultivation strategy.
"They say they won't come unless we hire them along with the mercenary bands they lead..."
"Bring them all. Hand them gold coins."
Gold coins were the one thing they had in abundance. They had taken Martai, and before that, they had won the battle against Azpen. It had become a safe zone where they didn't have to worry about immediate raids from Azpen.
Naturally, merchant guilds and traders gathered. The mercenary bands escorting them entered the territory. Consequently, Krona circulated. It took no time at all for the lord of the territory at the center of it all to become filthy rich.
Radical archer training. Warhorse breeding. The expansion of watchtowers and defensive facilities. He spent Krona as fast as he could.
Furthermore, there was no shortage of talent.
"Aren't there still some guys left over who got beaten by Encrid?"
There were plenty of them. Those who had challenged him after hearing rumors, only to settle down here. Those who had watched him fight, got terrified, and hesitantly stayed behind. There were more who stayed than those who left.
Those who would normally pose a threat to public order or cause trouble...
"Round them all up."
He made them slaves to gold. He handed them Krona and brought them into the fold. Expanding the barracks was a given. It was already underway. However, since they couldn't do everything on this side alone...
"Contact the northern battalion."
Originally, the Border Guard standing army consisted of two battalions. The other battalion had marched out and built barracks where they were stationed in front of Azpen. They were in the process of laying the foundation for what would become an entirely new territory.
Within the reach of his gold coins, Marcus did everything he possibly could. He was such an outstanding administrator, politician, and businessman that Krais could only shake his head in admiration.
"And so, ta-da."
The watchtowers had increased to sixteen, the castle walls were undergoing repairs, and while the moat was being dug, they had also purchased countless arrows. They hadn't bought simple wooden bows, but composite bows.
He intended to spend every single copper coin earned on defending and developing the territory.
"Someone must have worked themselves to death," Encrid said, imagining the scenes that must have unfolded in Marcus's office.
Work didn't just happen because you ordered it. The sheer volume of administrative tasks, processing, and organizing required underneath was staggering.
Krais nodded.
"Naturally. I heard the Heavy Armor Company Commander collapsed two days ago. Even the nobles who are somewhat decent with numbers or managing people were already on the verge of being ground to dust."
Marcus's specialty. Neither Encrid nor Krais knew it, but that fellow's specialty was grinding people down to get work done. He unleashed the talent that had once earned him the nickname "Millstone Marcus" within his family.
The territory of Border Guard was changing spectacularly day by day. It was surprising, yet it was also a natural progression. It was what happened when people, Krona, and capable individuals came together.
As Encrid looked around the transformed market, there were indeed a massive number of people.
And from among those people, someone thrust a blade straight toward his stomach.
Sensing the blade sliding in, Encrid snatched the wrist.
Esther half-opened her eyes.
Before them stood a figure who looked like a hunched-over hunchback.
It was an assassin.