This Hellish Place (4)
Ludwig was an obstinate, rigid man, but he was a man who understood honor.
As a devout believer in Aris, as the Shield of Aris, and as the mentor to the holy knights, his honor was acknowledged by all—and something in which he took profound pride. Naturally, having that honor tarnished, particularly through underhanded, contemptible schemes, filled him with righteous fury.
Yet was the previous clash the final moment anything could truly be salvaged? No matter how fiercely he resisted, his ultimate destination remained the Forest of the Four Seasons. Driven to the edge of the precipice, it felt as though he was merely thrashing about in desperation. Even so, he had stepped forward to defend his honor to the bitter end—not just his own name, but the lives of those under his care.
Everyone got away safely.
Ludwig surveyed his surroundings. The investigation unit, Rece included, had already scattered in all directions. In due time, they would become the seeds of revolution. The sole reason any of this had been possible was the sword—the weapon gifted to him just moments before entering the Forest of the Four Seasons.
Even Ludwig held the sword's radiant, emerald-galaxy brilliance in profound awe. He had fought through countless campaigns as the champion of Aris, yet never had he wielded an armament so terrifying.
Handle it poorly, and it could easily become a demonic sword.
Unlike the Holy Sword Revolution, this blade amplified its wielder's capabilities exponentially. Yet it was so volatile that even its master struggled to rein it in; a single lapse in focus, and it might turn to cut down the one holding the hilt. Had he not exercised extreme restraint during the clash, disaster would have struck.
Just what kind of being forged such a blade?
Its power was astoundingly formidable, but excessively so. It had proved difficult to focus purely on combat when a slight slip could cause his aura to run wild.
Ludwig caught his breath and gazed forward. The Surveillance Unit was still glaring at him. Though their faces remained hidden behind full-faced helms, their emotional state was palpable: they were terrified.
"What is it you fear?"
"..."
"Come. Your enemy stands right before you," Ludwig said, his voice flat and unyielding.
If the Hero was the Sword of Aris, Ludwig was her Shield. For the Surveillance Unit to force their way past him was virtually unthinkable, all the more so when his hand gripped such a monstrous masterpiece of a blade. Now that the rest of the investigation team had escaped, the Surveillance Unit had run out of choices. Either they charged and died by Ludwig's hand, or they returned empty-handed and faced the Pope's purge.
Yet Ludwig had nowhere to run either, with the Forest of the Four Seasons yawning at his back. Nor did he possess the strength to break through the Surveillance Unit. He had pushed himself past his limits to scatter those seeds of hope; only the sword was keeping him on his feet. Both sides were locked in complete stalemate.
What do we do?
What do you mean?! Why aren't we charging him?!
Didn't you see what happened just now?! Anyone who charged got hurled straight into the Forest of the Four Seasons!
Damn it... I'd rather be facing a sheer cliff!
The guards whispered frantically among themselves. Ludwig wasn't the only thing they feared; they feared the Forest of the Four Seasons behind him. The moment anyone stepped across that threshold, they were never coming back. Starting with Archbishop Odon, several guards had already been bodily thrown into the woods. Having watched their comrades vanish into thin air the instant they crossed the boundary, hesitation was inevitable.
They're wavering.
Decades of experience allowed Ludwig to instantly gauge the Surveillance Unit's shifting mood. Hemmed in on all sides, they were paralyzed with indecision.
Not that my situation is any better.
Ludwig’s own prospects were bleak. Even if he cut his way through the guards and survived, his name would be dragged through the mud. With the Pope holding El Dorado in an iron grip, manipulating public opinion would be child's play. Furthermore, as the Hero’s former mentor, he was the perfect scapegoat. They would claim the Hero had fallen because Ludwig had poisoned her mind with radical ideology.
It was so predictable that he couldn't help but chuckle derisively. Because he treasured honor above all, having it defiled in such a disgraceful manner was the one outcome he refused to accept.
Disposing of that pig first was the right call.
With Archbishop Odon gone, there was no one left to issue orders. The veteran commanders had either been slain by Ludwig or forced into the forest. With no chain of command, disarray was inevitable.
"It seems you are quick to grasp your predicament," Ludwig spoke up. "Return as you are, and you face the purge. Throw yourselves at me, and you die."
"..."
"Allow me to make a proposal."
At his words, the guards exchanged glances—a silent question of whether they dared listen. Lacking any better alternative, they quieted down.
"Even if you turn back now, you will die at the Pope's hands. And that remains true even if you somehow manage to slay me."
"What? What nonsense are you..."
"The one who wishes to ruin my honor most of all is the Pope. Do you understand why he orchestrated this so-called 'disappearance'?"
Ludwig was steadfast, but he was far from foolish. His temperament was remarkably similar to a certain Gallery moderator, only tempered by decades of life experience.
"To prevent me from becoming a martyr."
"..."
"Even if you take my head, every last one of you will be silenced by the Pope under some fabricated pretext. I will be recorded as missing, and you will be executed. Not a soul who remembers what truly happened here will be allowed to live."
It was far from baseless; if anything, it was chillingly plausible. The Pope had built his prestige by purging anyone deemed 'subversive.' To protect that sanctified image, sacrificing dozens—no, hundreds—of innocent pawns meant nothing to him. The Surveillance Unit was no exception. One way or another, their fate was sealed.
"H-How do you expect us to believe that...!"
"Because that is precisely what he did to the Undying King."
"..."
"If they could drive an entire kingdom to ruin just to break a single man, silencing a handful of guards would be effortless. And countless casualties will pile up in their wake."
The moment the Undying King was invoked, whatever counterarguments the guards were readying died in their throats. El Dorado was a realm that had committed wholesale slaughter just to break the ruler of a small kingdom. Who was to say such cruelty would not be turned upon them?
The argument was so ruthlessly accurate that the guards could not help but waver. Sensing the fracture in their resolve, Ludwig drove his point home.
"So run."
"..."
"Flee beyond the borders of the Holy Kingdom, or wait until I have recovered my breath. The choice is yours."
"...If you recover, will you kill us?" a guard with a deep, gravelly voice asked, tension thick in his tone.
Ludwig regarded him quietly before offering an unexpected reply.
"No."
"Then what will you do?"
"I shall step into the Forest of the Four Seasons."
"What?"
The entire unit recoiled in sheer bewilderment. Naturally so—they had believed he was fighting tooth and nail to avoid being forced into the forest. In truth, Ludwig had made peace with entering it long ago.
He explained calmly so they could comprehend his resolve:
"By sacrificing my own reputation, the honor of others can be preserved. Let them claim that a traitor arose because I instilled corrupt doctrines."
"..."
The Pope hid behind human shields to safeguard his own prestige. But Ludwig made himself a shield for others—conduct truly befitting the Shield of Aris.
Whether moved by his words or his conviction, the guards began hesitatingly lowering their weapons. The instinct to survive, combined with the undeniable sincerity ringing through Ludwig's voice, struck a chord that thoroughly shattered their will to fight.
"A wise choice."
"...When will you enter?"
"In one hour."
The moment the words left his mouth, Ludwig crossed his legs and sat in full lotus—the stance for the Mana Cultivation Method.
The guards were left utterly flabbergasted. Meditating right before the very enemies who had been trying to take his life moments ago? Such defiance of common sense stirred an immediate flurry of murmurs.
Should we strike?
Are you insane?! What if it's a trap?
What if he recovers and turns on us?
Ludwig would never stoop to that. Trust him.
In the end, they placed their faith in Ludwig, knowing full well how upright he was. Even setting aside their conversation, his integrity was spotless—shining as brightly as the Hero's own.
While Ludwig circulated his mana, the guards cautiously withdrew. Leaving behind only two sentries to confirm his departure, the rest began to disband.
"..."
An hour passed, and Ludwig concluded his meditation.
Opening his eyes, only two guards remained in his field of vision.
Most of them have departed, then.
Sensing the area revealed no other presence. Ludwig slowly rose to his feet.
At his movement, the two young guards flinched, visibly terrified.
Ludwig regarded them steadily before speaking in his trademark gruff tone.
"You two."
"Y-Yes, sir?!"
Catching the gentler undertone in Ludwig's voice, the guards reflexively blurted out honorifics.
"Are you the youngest?"
"Pardon?"
"I asked if you were the newest recruits."
Faced with the unexpected question, the guards exchanged bewildered glances before answering in timid, subdued voices.
"Y-Yes! That's correct! I only recently finished my apprenticeship!"
"I enlisted just one year before him, sir!"
The disciplined, nervous responses coaxed a faint smile from Ludwig. Yet pity followed swiftly in its wake. To think even greenhorns like them were dragged into such dirty business.
What is to become of the Holy Kingdom's future?
He had fulfilled his duty as the Shield of Aris, yet he had failed to protect the realm from within. For the Holy Kingdom to reclaim its true light, the rot had to be excised.
And that was a task meant not for a shield, but solely for a 'sword.'
"..."
Ludwig turned his back and gazed upon the Entrance to the Forest of Four Seasons.
A shimmering, aurora-like portal swirled before him, through which disparate biomes flickered like shifting illusions. Fearless though he was, Ludwig was still a mortal man, not immune to the dread of the unknown.
Beyond this veil... what manner of place awaits?
Dread mingled with curiosity.
Hesitating for only a heartbeat, Ludwig slowly reached out his hand.
His fingers pierced the aurora barrier; remarkably, he felt nothing at all.
Having extended a hand, it was time to step through whole. Closing his eyes, he offered a silent prayer.
Goddess Aris... watch over me.
Step. Step.
Marching forward on steady legs, Ludwig crossed into the Forest of the Four Seasons. A bizarre sensation washed over his entire body.
Slowly, he opened his eyes.
"..."
What greeted his eyes was an expansive savanna grassland.
A vast plain bathed entirely in vivid green, looking nothing like what one would call a forest.
Staring blankly at the savanna, he turned his head back. By all rights, the realm he had just left should have been visible behind him, yet nothing met his gaze save for the endless, emerald horizon.
Is the one known as WildGrylls truly in this place?
Ludwig immediately attempted to access the Gallery.
Unfamiliar though it was, logging in was straightforward enough.
This area does not support access to the Gallery.
"..."
Regardless of how simple it was to access, the network was severed.
Ludwig stared at the message hovering before him before silently dismissing it. Unable to connect to the Gallery—that could only mean one thing.
This is indeed the Forest of the Four Seasons.
The Forest of the Four Seasons blocked Gallery access; that much remained unchanged. Then how was Grylls able to use it? Curiosity flared briefly.
I'll find out once I ask him in person.
Ludwig began to walk. Vast though this savanna was, their paths were bound to cross eventually. When that might be was anyone's guess, but moving forward was infinitely better than remaining idle.
Ah. Of course...
Munch. Munch. Munch.
"..."
Searching for someone was one matter; the greeting committee was another. Ludwig craned his neck upward to stare at a peculiar creature.
A yellowish hide patterned with dense, brown patches. Long, muscular legs that towered far above Ludwig's own height.
Yet the most striking feature of all went far beyond strange—it bordered on grotesque.
Its neck...
The neck was long. Absurdly long.
Long enough to nonchalantly pluck tender leaves from the very crown of a towering tree. It looked as though the head, neck, and body were cobbled together from entirely different beasts, exuding an unsettling aura.
Even with all his worldly experience, Ludwig had never laid eyes on such a beast in his life.
...What in the world is that monstrosity?
Had Grylls been there, he would have simply called it a "giraffe."
Ludwig stared for a long while as the giraffe indulged in its feast, before slowly shaking his head.
This place truly is hell.
Why else would an ungodly abomination like that exist?
Harboring such thoughts, Ludwig walked past the giraffe.
Chomp, chomp, chomp. Chew, chew.
Paying him no mind whatsoever, the giraffe simply continued chewing happily on its leaves.