Chapter 148: Ortara's Nameless Remote Village
In an unknown remote village on the outskirts of Ortara—a tiny hamlet with scarcely a handful of residents—four figures emerged from behind the settlement.
"So we're starting by poking around in dumps like this?"
Daneb's irritated tone rang in Karema's ears, but he didn't so much as acknowledge her. His attitude of having long since given up on dealing with her only fueled her rage further.
"Daneb. Hold your tongue."
As expected, it was Hector who reined her in.
"No, this is ridiculous. A vessel worthy enough in a place like this? All we'll find are scrawny weaklings who'd drop dead from starvation without batting an eye."
"What we see is merely the potential in their flesh. Awakening it is well within the power of our doctrine."
"Ha. If those brats don't get proper nutrition during their growth phase, that potential seals shut. There'll be hordes who've already missed the window—why drag around that refuse instead of finished products?"
"The finished ones are likely from prominent families or noble bloodlines, aren't they?"
"Probably."
"Think those sorts would sit idly by if their heirs were snatched?"
"If we're caught, just drop some erosion beasts and bolt."
"That's only for the worst-case scenario. And the more vessels, the better. Better to scrape together unfinished flesh than regret having too few."
"Tch."
Daneb clicked her tongue.
"So what now? Say we kidnap some suitably scrawny brats here. Where do we stash them? How do we transport them later? What about the others?"
"I've already instructed the other cultists to spread across all of Ortara."
Jepita, who had been silent, answered Daneb's question.
"What? When?"
"While you were snoring away."
"That bastard—"
As Daneb bristled at Karema's jab, Hector cut in.
"Enough. Karema, stop needling Daneb. This mission hinges mostly on her role anyway."
"And that's exactly why you idiots plan things this way?"
"You're not exactly the strategic type. You proved that back in Istallin."
"Urk..."
"Anyway, the others should be getting to work by now. They have cover identities in Ortara, and some have even defected from the Salvation Cult. They'll select the vessel candidates."
"Vessel candidates?"
"Orphans from the slums. Street rats who'll do anything for food. There are bound to be some with exceptional potential among them. I've told them to lure those ones in."
Jepita answered Daneb's retort.
"You think that's feasible in such a short time?"
"Slum kids already think the world has abandoned them. Breaching their defenses is our cultists' greatest skill."
"Haha, ruthless. Utterly ruthless. I like it, though. They're trading their bodies for scraps to eat."
"Ruthless or not, what does it matter? When the Lord descends upon this land, all rot will be overturned, a new order established, and those children saved. Far better than rotting away, starved and meaningless, their worthless corpses dumped in the dirt."
"Anyway... my job's to snatch the brats in this village, right? Target the orphans?"
"Spot on. Time to get started. Oh, and here's a map to the hideout. Swing by when you're done."
"Perfect. I was getting bored. See you later."
In an instant, Daneb's body dissolved into black smoke and vanished.
"Let's move too."
"Back to the hideout?"
"Yeah. We'll get reports there and sort the vessels."
"Tch. Better to handle it myself. This sort of thing doesn't suit me at all."
"Can't be helped."
Hector shook his head helplessly at Jepita's grumbled complaint.
Similar scenes were unfolding across Ortara. Even in the land of warriors, the marginalized and weak existed inevitably. The Salvation Cult's followers had begun targeting those children in earnest.
"So when Phisper comes, you'll live even happier than now."
"Phisper? Isn't that the evil god?"
Even the few children who had heard of Phisper showed resistance, but it didn't last long.
"Evil god? Look, this warm food and shelter—it's all by her will. Could an evil god do that?"
"Um..."
"And if your god Tahara truly cared for you, why are you suffering like this? Doesn't make sense, does it?"
"...Yeah. You're right."
"Exactly. Tahara has no interest in your happiness. But Phisper does. She cares deeply about you all."
"...If we believe in Phisper, will things change?"
"Of course. You'll go to a better place, eat better food—feasts far tastier than this meager bread."
Children abandoned by families, sold off by impoverished parents, or orphaned early gradually fell under the cultists' sway. A warm, tasty meal to fill their empty bellies was enticement enough.
The cultists spun tales of goodness, happiness, and warmth. Promises of grand futures in wonderful places ignited hope in the children's hearts.
They targeted the youngest possible. Older ones resisted more. But their worries were unfounded—Ortara teemed with the pitiful. Even sturdy boys distrusted Tahara enough.
Thus, slum orphans began falling into the Salvation Cult's grasp. And since Ortara's people ignored the weak, a few missing slum kids raised no alarms. Weakness was sin to them, after all. Their plans proceeded smoothly.
Having experienced Ortara's sacred law, Ludenberg Lavante and Ashytara Solenute were deep in thought at the training grounds.
"Alright, so how do we sync up..."
"Hm. Maybe set specific signals we can recognize, then jump straight into the action when we see them? The Ortara students in the friendly match will prepare too... Yelling out targets just gives them time to react."
"Sounds good. Let's start by deciding on signals."
"Straight-up joint attacks might trap us, so like you said— you take the warrior, I take the priest as the base plan."
"Got it."
"Next... we move around and spot each other's habits."
"Habits?"
"Yeah. Knowing them means we'll instinctively know when to signal. Adapt to the situation, but use signals in key moments to decide moves."
"We might even swap positions sometimes. If your matchup's bad."
"Right."
"Stick to the base strategy... but swap based on affinities, joint attack openings. Signals for joint attacks."
"Perfect."
"Shall we get moving?"
Ashytara nodded at Ludenberg's words. They raised their swords and began diligently observing each other's habits.
In practice, they uncovered a surprise. Having trained under the same master for so long, they knew each other's quirks shockingly well. Total familiarity meant signals could be far simpler.
"I was thinking finger signals or calls... but we might not even need them."
Ludenberg, with his keen senses and eyes, easily read Ashytara's habits. Yet she matched his without such gifts, thanks to her intense focus on him—though he chalked it up to her talent, oblivious.
"Yeah. Your breathing, footwork, unconscious sword swings... I've memorized them all. No signals needed."
"Predict moves to eliminate signal time?"
"Yeah. Normally impossible... but it feels doable."
"Then we'll need sparring partners."
"Sparring... No one's around. Ask the Ortara kids? I met this new one, Karina—the girl with the blue mist."
"Won't work."
"Why?"
"Ortara's sacred law leaves warriors combat-incapable right after."
"Oh, right."
"Guess we look in Solemnute Adem then..."
"Ask Dalia sunbae?"
"Not bad. Seia sunbae mentioned Dalia took down all the Ortara kids last year."
"Yeah. Let's ask them."
"Great."
Ludenberg and Ashytara searched diligently for Seia and Dalia. Seia was easy to find, but...
"Dalia sunbae? She's talking privately with the Ortara side. Probably can't spare time now."
"Ah..."
"Too bad."
"It's just sync practice anyway—tomorrow's fine. I'm a bit tired today. Tomorrow?"
"Sure."
They turned away, disappointed.
"Since we're here, wanna tour the school?"
"Yeah. Nothing else to do..."
Ashytara forgot her regret as Ludenberg nodded. Excitement at the new place overshadowed it.
"Where first?"
"Training grounds are played out. Let's wander."
To acclimate, they needed to absorb the sights repeatedly—their steps were eager. But sightseeing paused as hunger hit after the day's events.
"Getting hungry?"
"Yeah."
"Cafeteria first, then more wandering."
The cafeteria bustled—many students shared their idea, right at dinnertime.
"Crowded."
"Dinner rush."
"True."
As they sat with trays, Ashytara and Ludenberg gaped. Right beside them sat a very familiar figure: a black-haired young man.
He met their stares.
"...Heydel oppa?"
Ashytara's soft voice made his expression stiffen noticeably.