Tachgalde, the Ironclad Fortress
Tachgalde lived up to its name as the ironclad fortress, dwarfing even the mightiest strongholds in scale and grandeur. Ludenberg immediately understood why refugees flocked here. It looked sturdier than Fermora, the imperial capital itself, and the guards' discipline was on another level entirely. This was a gathering place for warriors of reversal—the birthplace of Liberatus Ahad.
Yet the countless mercenaries visible everywhere hinted at the ferocity of the erosion beasts assailing Tachgalde.
"The mercenaries have increased."
Ridenah Dwin, standing beside Liberatus, gazed at him with a grave expression.
"Have they?"
"Yes. More than last time. It seems the recent raid on Fermora wasn't limited to the capital alone."
"I see. The atmosphere does feel quite ominous. Let's head straight to the lord's castle."
"Yes, sir."
The knight order proceeded directly to the lord's castle. Upon arrival, Liberatus instructed his knights.
"Wait here."
"Yes, sir!"
Liberatus entered alone. The path to the central hall was long, lined with knights radiating sharp auras like honed blades.
"Welcome. It's been a while."
"...It's been a long time, brother."
The face was slightly older than Liberatus's, but the fierce glint in his eyes proclaimed him no weak lord. Librian Ahad—Liberatus's elder brother and ruler of Ahad, encompassing the ironclad fortress of Tachgalde and the empire's northern territories.
"So, what brings my rarely visiting brother here?"
"Are you aware of the recent raid on Fermora?"
"Of course. How could I not be?"
"His Majesty ordered me to assess Tachgalde's status."
"...I see. What do you make of it?"
"It's as solid as ever. No major issues."
"Good eye. No major problems. Tachgalde won't fall easily to erosion beasts."
"That said... how are things with the refugees?"
"Tachgalde is vast. Ahad is vast. It's not a problem yet."
"I see."
"Since you're here, check on the soldiers' condition. The knights too, of course."
"If you're offering, it's always welcome. Do as you please."
"Yes, brother."
Librian smiled contentedly at the prospect of Liberatus evaluating his knights. Their thirst for growth had been growing lately, so this was ideal.
"Starting right away?"
"Why drag it out? Finish quickly so I can return to Fermora."
"Very well."
Emerging from the lord's castle, Liberatus promptly assembled Tachgalde's knights. He intended to inspect their condition and guide their path forward. The knights and soldiers, well aware of his renown, eagerly complied.
The knights gathered in the training grounds—imperial knights and Tachgalde's own, while the fortress guards maintained their posts.
Amid their admiration, Liberatus stepped into the center. He surveyed the area. Tachgalde hadn't changed. The knights' disciplined gazes overwhelmed on sight alone. Satisfied, he smiled and addressed them.
"For the next fortnight, I, Liberatus Ahad, dispatched by the imperial court, will test how well the knights of the ironclad fortress Tachgalde have honed themselves."
Cheers erupted from all around.
"The reason I've come all this way to gauge your skills is simple: if you fall, the empire falls."
His satisfied smile faded quickly, replaced by a stern gaze.
"Give it your all. The training will be rigorous."
Far from dismayed, Tachgalde's knights and soldiers grinned, eager for the ordeal. True to their zeal for slaying erosion beasts, they welcomed the hardship as a path to self-forging.
As Liberatus began the training, the imperial knights, dragged along unexpectedly, found themselves participating too. And...
"Spare me..."
"I-I'm dying..."
"..."
"Hoo."
They crawled on the ground, on the verge of collapse, realizing just how much Liberatus had held back in their usual sessions.
Surprisingly, Istradim remained relatively unscathed. Whatever life she'd lived, she endured Liberatus's brutal regimen without much fatigue.
"Istradim's incredible..."
"Yeah..."
Orpina's dazed murmur drew a nod from Kyle, crawling beside her. Watching, Ridenah wondered how such children gathered around Liberatus. Each had exceptional talent. Even these two, writhing on the ground, were impressive—stronger than average knights, judging by the sprawled imperial knights and Tachgalde soldiers nearby.
Her gaze shifted to Liberatus. He was instructing a boy with sky-blue hair.
"What's your name?"
Liberatus's question drew a response from the sky-blue-haired boy.
"Parrel Mer."
Overhearing from within Liberatus, where Ludenberg silently observed, he was stunned. This frail-looking boy was Parrel Mer—the Six Heroes' deadliest erosion slayer, possessor of the greatest might? Ludenberg had just witnessed his swordplay: unsteady footwork, unstable stance. Worse than Cletta before her weapon change.
The real Parrel Mer?
Ludenberg's vague admiration shattered. Parrel Mer was the strongest of the Six Heroes, apostle of Mare, mentor to Parrel Lavante—the Lavante progenitor—and the one who named him. To Ludenberg, a Lavante descendant, he was legendary.
Yet this Parrel Mer was the polar opposite of his imaginings.
As Ludenberg reeled, Liberatus spoke sternly.
"...Abysmal. You know that?"
"Yes. I do."
"Judging by your gear, you're a soldier?"
"Yes."
"Indeed. But your skill lags far behind the others."
"...Yes."
"To be direct: you lack talent."
"I know."
"On the battlefield, you'd only hinder your comrades."
"Yes. Even so... I must kill erosion beasts."
"Why?"
"Revenge."
A deep hatred flickered across the frail boy's face.
"I see. Lost your family?"
"Yes."
Liberatus—and Ludenberg watching—understood instantly. Liberatus had lost Amora. His march to Nadempir? To slaughter erosion beasts indiscriminately. Those consumed by vengeance endure any trial for it.
Ludenberg realized Liberatus and Parrel Mer were kindred spirits. And why Parrel became the apex slayer.
Obsession. Single-minded resolve to kill the enemy... that propelled him there.
"Wanting revenge, charging into battle for it—all good."
But.
Liberatus didn't want to throw this frail boy into the fray.
"Only the qualified can achieve it. Not you. Look at yourself. You know the proper stance, yet your body fails, leaving you awkward."
"...With effort, I can do it."
"Yes. Someday. But will you waste time waiting for that 'someday'?"
"...So the weak can't dream of revenge?"
Unable to contain his rising anger, Parrel challenged Liberatus unwittingly. The surrounding forces eyed him warily. He'd crossed a line.
Liberatus was imperial knight captain, emperor's son-in-law, knights' idol, savior of the nation. Defying him? Unthinkable. Even other knights couldn't tolerate it.
"Hey, Parrel!"
Scoldings arose, but Parrel stood firm.
"There's no reason I can't."
"...Then why...?"
"I won't watch another die. You'd die facing an erosion beast now."
"..."
"Challenging the impossible? You might despair seeing others surpass you, fear the beasts, lose your life to lacking talent. Still heading to battle?"
"...Yes. Revenge is all I have left."
Parrel nodded.
"Good. I like your unyielding spirit. Find me after training. You're far behind, so I'll teach you more."
"...Pardon?"
Parrel blinked in confusion at the abrupt words.
"Lacking means more teaching needed. With that will, you'll force your way to the front regardless. Might as well forge you enough to kill erosion beasts."
Liberatus, seeing his resolve, decided to nurture him. Those harboring unyielding fury despite fearing death grow faster than others—even the untalented.
Liberatus had trained countless disciples, many talentless. With Parrel's drive, he could at least make him knight-level.
"...Thank you."
Dazed, Parrel expressed his gratitude to Liberatus.