Chapter 35
Chapter 35
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 35
Chapter Title: No Mercy for Scouts
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"What do you mean, captured? General, what nonsense is this guy spouting..."
The scout captain tilted his head in confusion.
Daroa Empire's elite wyvern scout unit.
This was a situation utterly incomprehensible by their standards.
The fact that the empire's hero, General Barkas, was pulling a sled.
And that arrogant remark spat by the man lounging crookedly in the sled,
'You guys got captured.'
The scout captain turned to Barkas in disbelief.
Yet for some reason,
Barkas was avoiding eye contact, staring off at the distant mountains.
'Don't make eye contact. If I get involved, I'll get hit too.'
Barkas's desperate attempt to look away.
The moment the scout captain opened his mouth again,
"You really don't get it, do you?"
Snap.
Darcor lazily flicked his finger.
The crisp sound echoed across the snowy plain.
⚡ SKILL ACTIVATED ⚡ Tyrant's Intimidation Rumble...
The shoulders of the scouts, who hadn't flinched even in the biting cold,
began to tremble uncontrollably.
"Gahk."
"Urk..."
There was no time to resist.
The elite scouts dropped to their knees in unison, as if on cue.
Their knees sank deep into the snow, heads forced to the ground.
Even the wyverns let out pathetic whimpers and flattened themselves.
Instinctual terror.
In an instant, the scouts' dignified aura vanished without a trace.
"Grk... W-what is this?"
The scout captain shuddered from head to toe.
Decades on the battlefield told him this much.
This wasn't an illusion, magic, or a trap.
Primal fear.
An overwhelming gap in power was crushing them.
The very man wielding this absolute force
looked utterly nonchalant.
'I told you to listen when I say it nicely. Always make me use force. Such a hassle.'
His back ached, and he was hungry.
All he could think about was finishing this quickly and stealing a sturdy-looking wyvern.
'Flying's always faster than running, after all.'
Darcor shook his head and walked toward the scout captain.
Crunch, crunch.
"Just answer my questions properly. Easy, right?"
Darcor squatted down,
staring into the scout captain's eyes.
His crimson-glowing pupils pierced through as if reading his innermost thoughts.
"Any other scouts near the main force? Ritual progress?"
Straight to the point.
But the scout captain was a soldier to the bone.
Even in his terror, he gritted his teeth
and lifted his head defiantly.
"Kuhuhu... So you're the empire's tyrant. But you picked the wrong man."
His eyes blazed with resolve.
Loyalty unyielding even before death.
The picture-perfect loyal retainer from a fantasy novel.
"We are honorable warriors of Daroa. You think we'd sell out our comrades to filthy imperial dogs?
Kill me instead!"
Ptooey.
The scout captain spat at Darcor's feet.
Darcor impassively glanced down at the spittle on his boot.
Then turned to Barkas.
"Hey, snake-eyes. Doesn't this guy's lines sound familiar?"
"Ahem. W-well..."
Cold sweat trickled down Barkas's back.
He had spouted the exact same lines just days ago.
'Kill me instead. I won't submit. Give me an honorable death...'
And he knew better than anyone what came after.
Barkas sighed deeply and sidled up to the scout captain.
Comrades in suffering, perhaps.
Or a shred of conscience.
Whatever it was,
he looked down at the scout captain with pitying eyes.
"Listen... I'm telling you from experience, just spill it."
"G-General?"
The scout captain looked up at Barkas in shock.
"Honor and all that crap—this is hell. Not the torture you're imagining."
"General, snap out of it! How can you say something so weak? Have you been brainwashed?!"
The scout captain trembled with betrayal.
His revered hero submitting to the enemy, trying to sway him.
Brainwashing magic, maybe?
But Barkas silently endured the accusations,
sending only a more pitiable gaze.
'Sigh... You don't get it yet. Those guys are demons.'
Monsters in hoods.
Worse than a warlock like himself.
They knew how to shatter souls.
As Barkas shook his head and stepped back,
Darcor smirked and stood.
"Fine, you want death? I'll grant your wish."
"Yes. Let me die honorably..."
Thud.
With a dull sound, the scout captain's
right arm twisted grotesquely.
"Gaaaaah!"
A wretched scream.
Darcor casually released the dangling arm.
"But killing you outright would be boring, no?"
Darcor flicked his hand.
Saintess Chloe stepped out from behind the sled.
In her pure white priestess robes, she looked angelic and noble.
Amid his pain, the scout captain glimpsed a flicker of hope.
The Saintess.
Wouldn't a servant of the gods show mercy?
"M-mercy... Saintess..."
Chloe looked down at the fallen scout captain and sighed deeply.
She shook her head, making the sign of the cross.
"Sigh... You're starting again, Your Majesty."
Her voice carried genuine regret.
"I've told you time and again: such heinous acts won't be forgiven by the Goddess. Life is precious. How many times must I say it..."
Tears welled in the scout captain's eyes.
The Saintess is holding back the demon tyrant!
Just as the scout captain swelled with emotion,
Darcor pulled a heavy leather pouch from his pocket and tossed it.
Clink.
The clear jingle of gold coins.
Snatch.
Chloe caught it mid-air and tucked it away effortlessly.
Her movement was so natural and swift, it was hard to follow with the eye.
At the same time, her concerned expression melted into a benevolent smile.
"...But wouldn't even the Goddess give a sinner a chance to repent?
I shall do my utmost to guide this lost lamb back to the righteous path."
The scout captain's eyes bulged.
What had he just seen?
A gold pouch?
And that expression change?
"Brother, does it hurt? Let me heal you."
Holy light poured from Chloe's hand.
The warm glow enveloped the broken arm.
The misaligned bones realigned,
torn muscles twisted and knit back together.
But healing never comes without pain.
The agony of rejoining was far worse than breaking.
"Grrrrraaah!"
"Good, fixed. Round two."
Chloe beamed and stepped back,
Darcor stepped forward.
"Thanks, Saintess. Refill complete."
Crack.
"Gaaaaah!"
This time, the other arm.
Excruciating pain shot up his spine,
slamming into his frontal lobe.
"Refill."
"Guuuuuaaaagh!"
"Again."
Crack!
"Kyaaaaagh!"
Break and heal.
Break again.
'Th-these guys are d-demons... Have to be...'
The scout captain's spirit crumbled to dust.
Just kill him already,
but when it hurt enough to die, they'd revive him.
For even worse torment.
If hell existed, this was it.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Seventh round.
The scout captain foamed at the mouth, convulsing.
Honor? Loyalty?
Those had vaporized when his bones rejoined for the seventh time.
"I-I'll talk! Let me talk! Please!"
"Took you long enough."
Darcor nonchalantly dug in his ear.
Chloe smacked her lips regretfully.
'Tch. A bit more and I'd get the bonus. No stamina, these guys...'
The scout captain shuddered as he spilled everything.
"N-no other scout units nearby. We're the last. Tower Master Arman has
entered the ritual's final phase. Tonight... He'll awaken tonight."
Darcor's eyes narrowed.
'Tonight, huh. Talk about perfect timing.'
A little later and it would've been game over.
Darcor nodded in satisfaction.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ "Alright, as promised, you're free to go."
Darcor said magnanimously.
The scouts were tightly bound to trees,
Tower Master Veronica humming as she checked the ropes.
"These are special mana ropes. Nothing short of a holy sword can cut them.
Don't bother trying. In half a day, the mana'll dissolve nice and easy, so no worries."
A wicked smile crossed her face.
"Oh, right—you know ogres roam around here a lot?
If they sniff you out... well, talk it out like good boys. Honorable warriors can handle that, right?"
"Mmph! Mmmph! Mmmmmmph!"
The scouts' eyes widened in horror.
Bound helpless, reeking of blood, abandoned in the frozen wastes.
This wasn't mercy.
It was setting the table for ogre chow.
"Got it? Good. Daroa warriors are so spirited. Fighting!"
Pleading screams erupted, but their mouths were already gagged.
Darcor chuckled and headed for the wyverns.
Flap.
The wyverns stood meekly, already cowed by Darcor's Tyrant's Intimidation.
"Whoa! Riding a wyvern was my dream... Jackpot."
Eris's eyes sparkled as she vaulted onto a wyvern's back.
The holy sword Excalibur at her waist hummed and vibrated.
[Kid. I-I get airsick and vertigo... Urp. G-go slow, slow!]
Darcor expertly gripped the reins.
Then glanced at the hesitant Barkas.
"What're you doing? Hop on."
"R-right away!"
Barkas scrambled aboard.
It bruised his pride, but beats pulling a sled.
Even if it meant betraying his country...
'No, not betrayal. Technically, my homeland's the imperial south. Daroa was just a job.'
Yes.
This was another form of patriotism.
That thought lightened Barkas's heart.
"Let's go. Time for delivery."
At Darcor's signal,
Whoosh!
Fierce wingbeats filled the snowy plain.
The wyverns carrying Darcor's group
took flight toward the north, where the magic tower loomed.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ "Ooh. Great ancient god..."
Daroa Empire's main force.
Beneath the magic tower on the snowy plain,
an endless frozen lake stretched out.
Tens of thousands of troops arrayed there.
Forces so dense their spear tips formed a forest, encircling the lake.
At the lake's central altar,
Daroa's Tower Master Arman spread his arms, chanting madly.
His pitch-black mana spewed forth, blotting the sky
and shredding the lake's ice to pieces.
Rumble!
The earth quaked, the heavens screamed.
From the cracks in the ice,
darkness deeper than the abyss rose.
Splash!
With a massive spray, the legendary monster
revealed its overwhelming form.
The ancient being.
Jormungandr.
A colossal body coiling like it could encircle a castle.
Eyes burning red, as if to devour the world.
[Kraaaaa!]
The beast's roar struck the plain.
The soldiers cheered in ecstasy.
"Waaaaah!"
"Long live the Daroa Empire! Long live Lord Arman!"
"The god has descended! The world is ours now!"
The cheers of tens of thousands tore at eardrums.
The ritual neared completion.
All that remained was to sweep the empire with absolute power.
Victory gleamed on Arman's face.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Whoosh.
Fierce winds high in the sky whipped at Darcor's uniform.
He gazed down from above the clouds.
Tens of thousands of soldiers on the ice lake.
And in the center, a massive coiled serpent.
The system window flashed red, blaring loudly.
Ding.
⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙ [Warning: A catastrophe far beyond causality.] But Darcor just smirked,
glancing at the pale, terrified Barkas.
"Hey, snake-eyes."
"...Y-yes? Y-yes!"
"Y'know, these guys love snakes. You, that one down there—everyone."
His lips curled slyly upward.
His bloodshot eyes gleamed with eerie madness.
"Gotta make an entrance with flair, right?"
Swoosh!
Darcor yanked the wyvern's reins without hesitation.
"Let's play."