The Salvation Cult's Headquarters, the Heart
The high priest of Prisper looked down at Karema and Jepita, who knelt prostrate before him with bowed heads.
"You have work to do."
"Command us."
"Do you remember the words our lord conveyed last time?"
"You said he was seeking a vessel."
The high priest nodded.
"Indeed. Our lord requires a sturdy vessel for his descent. But it must be one untouched by the hands of other gods."
"......Yes."
"We need bodies without divine power. As many as possible. Vessels capable of containing our lord's overwhelming might are rare. Many will likely crumble when he descends, so we must prepare for that as well."
In that instant, an image flashed in Jepita's mind: a boy who had slaughtered an upper-rank erosion beast without divine power and once severed his own left arm. That boy might just be worthy of serving as a vessel for a god.
"Many bodies... how many exactly do you require?"
"Prepare the bodies of a hundred sturdy individuals. They must be free of other gods' touch, so Ortara is ideal. Go there and find those who will become vessels for our lord."
"Understood. But......"
"Is there something you need?"
"It's nearly impossible for just Kaleema and me to abduct a hundred bodies in Ortara. We'll need far more manpower."
"I know that much. Of course we'll reinforce our numbers. The previous raid on Solemnute succeeded overall, but the losses were heavy. This time, we'll put everything into it."
"Regarding support... could you tell us the scale?"
"More than last time. And I'll assign more knights and priests."
"Knights and priests... you mean......"
"I'll send Hector and Daneb. That should suffice, no?"
Hector, Daneb.
Jepita nodded.
"Go. You must depart swiftly."
"Understood."
Jepita and Karema vanished from before the high priest.
Gazing into the distance, the high priest pondered.
"A vessel... who will become our saint?"
Ludenberg Lavante couldn't make sense of the current situation.
Standing before him was some hulking brute who had abruptly challenged him to a fight with brazen confidence.
"......What?"
"I said, let's fight."
"Why should I?"
As Ludenberg asked with a baffled expression, the guy—who appeared to be a student from Ortara National School—blurted out without a shred of reason.
"I've always wanted to throw down with those Solemnute folks at least once. And you look pretty damn strong. You wouldn't dodge a fight, would you? Like a coward?"
"Hmph."
Ludenberg racked his brain, wondering how he'd ended up in this mess with some nameless oaf strutting around, demanding a brawl before they'd even exchanged names.
Yesterday had been uneventful. After the welcome ceremony, the students rested in their dorms, then followed Hainkel Hereis's guidance through the school's facilities and their purposes: library, training grounds, one-on-one combat arena, large-scale battle field. As expected from a warrior academy, combat-related venues dominated the tour.
Ludenberg had shown interest in the training grounds, as had the other Knight Faculty students.
The first day ended with the facility introductions and a return to the dorms. Nothing out of the ordinary. They'd been told meals were self-serve at the student cafeteria.
"Ah."
Deep in thought, Ludenberg recalled Hainkel's final words from yesterday.
Just in case, I'll warn you ahead of time.
With all eyes on him, Hainkel had spoken.
Ortara National School students are incredibly belligerent. They thrive on battle, so tomorrow, they'll pick fights with you. Could be over something trivial, or nothing at all.
If that happens, engage them head-on. Otherwise, they'll look down on you as 'those Solemnute cowards.'
Want that kind of treatment?
The students had chorused "No," their eyes alight with fierce determination.
Good. Then crush them thoroughly. Anyone who loses before the friendly matches starts gets special training.
That was the moment determination turned to madness.
And now.
Having come to the training grounds for morning practice, Ludenberg finally understood. There was no real reason—just how things worked in Ortara. A nation of warriors, indeed.
Realizing the challenge truly lacked any pretext, Ludenberg nodded to the nameless brute.
"Come at me."
Ludenberg hefted a training sword he'd grabbed casually from the rack; the brute lifted the massive double-headed axe slung on his back.
And so, at the crack of dawn, clashes erupted in the training grounds.
Ludenberg swung his sword with ferocious momentum, met by the brute's axe swings. It wasn't mindless flailing. The training showed—wielding a straightforward weapon with surprisingly intricate motions.
In a flash, the brute dropped low and swept his axe viciously toward Ludenberg's legs.
But Ludenberg had already passed his first trial, knew how to infuse his blade with conviction, and his eyes pierced every feint. No mere student could beat him.
Crush them thoroughly, he said.
With Hainkel's advice echoing, he gripped his sword reverse without hesitation and slammed it down on the incoming axe. Many options existed, but nothing overwhelmed like crushing head-on. Tricks wouldn't earn respect from this type—only a frontal demolition would make him submit.
Crack!
Ludenberg's sword embedded dead-center in the massive axe blade, pinning it to the ground.
Sensing the brute's panic, Ludenberg released his sword, surged into his guard, and unleashed a brutal straight punch.
Thwack!
The meaty impact echoed as the brute's body flew back, crumpling unconscious without a scream.
Ortara students, drawn by the commotion, erupted in cheers.
"That was awesome!"
"What the hell, dude? Can't swing for shit? Skip breakfast?"
"All that bulk wasted on a wimp like that? Damn shame, big guy!"
Ludenberg stared, utterly baffled by their sudden cheers insulting their own comrade rolling in the dirt.
But the confusion didn't last. A wave of challenges crashed over him next.
"Hey! Shit just hit the fan!"
"What? Why?"
"Heard there's a brawl at the training grounds?"
The Knight Faculty dorm buzzed as one student who'd gone for morning practice reported back: he'd seen an Ortara student pick a fight with Ludenberg Lavante, get dropped instantly, then a tidal wave of others swarm him demanding bouts.
"They picked on Ludenberg?"
Pity crossed the Knight Faculty students' faces.
"They're done for."
Gawin Greta and Leb Heinz—who'd taken beatings from Ludenberg before—looked especially grim.
"Wanna spectate?"
"Sounds good."
"But what if they pick on us too?"
"We throw down. What's the problem? Prof said so yesterday."
"Right."
"We'll stomp 'em. They don't even have divine power."
"Yeah, but what if there's more like Ludenberg? They emphasize physical training."
"Like that's common. A seventeen-year-old slicing upper erosion beasts? Come on."
"True."
"Let's go then. We'll win anyway."
As Gawin, Leb, and Marvin Ashus bantered, Ashytara Solenute—hearing Ludenberg was tangled in fights—turned to Cletta Peliche, Philia Rosette, and Leila Satin, who grinned without a worry.
"Shall we go too?"
"Hell yeah!"
One by one, the Knight Faculty students headed to the training grounds.
Entering the vast training grounds, the Knight Faculty students saw Ortara students forming a circle, watching Ludenberg face off against another challenger.
Soon, the opponent ate a fist and hit the dirt. Whispers rippled from the Ortara side.
"He won again."
"Guy's incredible! Who's he?"
"Dunno. Solemnute, probably. Thought he was some frail priest type... but damn, he's tough."
"He's not using divine power, right?"
"Nope. Solemnute guys say their weapons glow weird when they do."
"Whoa."
Even as their comrades got thoroughly thrashed, the Ortara students remained calm—almost entertained.
No, more than that.
"Next, me!"
"Where do you think you're going?"
They were thrilled, charging at Ludenberg eagerly.
Ludenberg shook his head at the spectacle. This bordered on insanity.
To him, Ortara students seemed to find their worth through combat with others.
And that assessment was spot-on. Ortara earned its title as the warriors' nation for a reason.
There, valor in battle was virtue incarnate.
Crazy bastards.
Realizing madness ruled among the mad, Ludenberg adapted.
He called out:
"First come, first served."
The circle dissolved instantly as Ortara students lined up fiercely before him. The Knight Faculty students could only laugh in disbelief.
But their amusement faded fast.
"Oh? Who's this? Here to fight too?"
Spotting the Knight Faculty—specifically the Combat Faculty students—their eyes gleamed.
"Bring it, punks. Let's see what Ortara's got."
Leb's bold retort lit the fuse. The Combat Faculty students sneered, gripping their weapons.
The Knight Faculty students channeled their divine power in response.
Friendly matches hadn't even begun, yet a showdown between Solemnute Adem and Ortara National School was underway.