Chapter 6
Chapter 6
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 6
Chapter Title: Great Warrior Ivar (2)
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Unlike us, who formed our settlements using the natural features of the plains as boundaries, the shamans wandered from tribe to tribe.
The tribes eyed the shamans warily and sometimes scorned them, yet sought them out whenever they had need.
The reason was the same as why I hadn't been accepted by my comrades early on after my possession. On the plains, anyone you couldn't trust with your back was an enemy.
In truth, both the Ancestral Power and the spells they wielded stemmed from the same source as described in the novel's setting: mana.
However, the manifestations were vastly different. They even resembled the Winter Witch or the empire's mages, which fueled the hostility.
Ancient prejudices couldn't be overturned in a single breath. Still, as people grew accustomed to seeing me get along with the shamans like friends, things improved slightly.
"A whole day has passed, and it's still the same. The weather's getting colder again."
"Ishkar doesn't interfere with the laws of the plains. Could it be the work of the foreign gods the shamans serve?"
"Calm down. If we mistreat them, we might not find a solution."
It was fortunate amid the misfortune that the leaders had gathered at the Great Rock Mountain when the anomaly struck. While Harald quelled their agitation and ordered the shamans' protection...
I decided to seek out those staying with our tribe, just as the Raggedfoot Brothers had mentioned. It was the group of Water Star shamans that Aiter and her sisters belonged to.
"Don't open the tent flaps carelessly! You'll be cursed!"
"But the shamans are inside..."
"Out of the way."
"Ivar!?"
"Ivar's here!"
When I crossed the plains and arrived at my homeland, the tribe was in chaos as expected. Though Harald and I were absent, Grak—one of the elders— was calming the people. He lowered his weapon in relief the moment he saw me.
"You're late."
"A karangal died on the way."
"Did you run into a magic beast?"
"We did. But the reason it died was that it went berserk."
Some animals on the plains transformed into magic beasts under the influence of corrupted mana. Even those already turned weren't exempt, often evolving into even more ominous beings.
The karangal Grak had lent me had sprouted two extra legs midway and was growing a second head, so I'd had no choice but to put it down myself. If I hadn't brought a spare just in case, it would've taken twice as long.
"Wait here, Satchpi."
"Squeak!"
I tethered the beast and entered the tent where the shamans were staying. The shaman sisters were huddled in the corner, trembling.
Aiter rushed into my arms. Transparent liquid streamed from beneath her mask.
"I-Ivar...! If this keeps up, it'll be a real disaster. Not just the plains, but those behind the walls too..."
"I know. Do you know why the sun isn't rising?"
"It's not that it isn't rising—something's blocking it. The stars that lit the night have vanished too."
They read the energies of the heavens through the flow of water and stars. Though the stars were invisible, a miniature map of the sky they observed was reflected in a bowl of water inside the tent.
It had been worth the effort to fetch fresh water regularly. One of the sisters answered in place of the shivering Aiter.
"The ominous star is glowing red. This is absolutely not a natural phenomenon."
"On my way across the plains, strange things happened. The magic beasts grew stronger."
"......"
"......"
Ilena, the eldest sister, and I fell silent at the same time. We were thinking the same thing.
The four magic beasts known as the Northern Calamities—one of the 'Lords'—had awakened.
"No need to think further. It's the Night Lord."
The Night Lord. Appearing once every few decades, it brought darkness to the plains and stole the light from the eyes of newborn children.
Its second pair of arms on its back was vast enough to blot out the sky, and the armor covering its body was as thick and sturdy as city walls.
Unlike the other Lords, it was a true 'Lord' in every sense; legend said that meeting its gaze made it impossible to defy any command it issued.
I knew what the empire called this being the tribes feared.
It was one of the special-grade magic beasts designated as impossible to permanently eradicate and requiring sealing: the black dragon Caladrak.
At that moment, Aiter snapped out of her daze, startled by her own position nestled in my arms. She pulled away, her mask twisted upside down as she spoke.
"E-Even if a Lord awakens, it's rare for it to rampage so fiercely that morning never breaks on the plains...!"
"Any leads, Ivar?"
"There was a dark mage on the walls during the last battle. He might've pulled some trick."
There was no way to confirm it. Unless you’d been born in the Empire, there was absolutely no interaction or exchange with them right now.
But when signs appeared that the Lord was fully awakening and manifesting on the surface, I already knew what choice the imperial court would make.
A subjugation order.
"We need to find its location faster than anyone else."
"W-Why?"
"Or uninvited guests will come swarming."
The emperor would proclaim directly to everyone on the continent: Bring the head of the filthy dragon that scattered darkness over an empire where the sun must never set—anyone who does it.
Most wouldn't stand a chance and would become fodder to fatten it up. In the process, the original story's protagonists could vanish pointlessly.
"I beg you, shamans of the Water Star."
"W-Where are you going, Ivar?"
"I have work to do."
The plains would turn into a slaughterhouse beyond comparison to a battlefield, so I had to deal with it first. I rose immediately, not forgetting to grab my blunted axe.
In the worst case, to face it alone, I absolutely needed to implant the sixth rune.
"Idiot!"
Crash!
The crystal glass shattered against the wall. Serath Icefern caught her breath, rose from her chair, and approached the wall to pick up the shards with her bare hands.
She used mana to fuse them back together. Because of the barbarians, supplies always ran short by winter's end. Even a small champagne flute couldn't be wasted. Especially since they were made to be smashed in celebration.
The glass was perfectly restored, complete with frost patterns, as if touched by an artisan's hand. Satisfied, Serath hurled it against the wall again.
"You idiot!"
That morning, she had been this furious over the directive from military command.
"Bureaucratic fools! If they knew the situation on the ground, they should've blocked this imperial edict even if it cost their heads!"
"Pardon the intrusion, Commander Serath...?"
Her adjutant, who had just opened the door, doubted his eyes. The Northern Defense Army's supreme commander, always coolly assessing the battlefield, was hurling glass shards at the emperor's portrait like a dartboard.
But by the time he blinked, Serath was seated at her desk handling paperwork as if nothing had happened. The frame that had hung on the wall moments ago now lay neatly on the floor.
"What is it, Wagner?"
"That glass just now..."
"Are you dreaming in broad daylight because the sun isn't rising? Report quickly. Who's the message from this time?"
"S-Sorry...!"
Careful not to slip on the wet floor, Wagner handed over the letter that had arrived at the 9th Legion. It was already the seventh today. Even after filtering, this many remained.
Serath frowned at the letter stamped with the seal of the scales of justice. She disliked nobles who obsessed over face, but she didn't care for those who discarded it entirely either.
"From the Goldline Countess's house. Technically, it's under the name of the merchant guild they run."
"One of the finance minister's eyes and ears, huh..."
Merchants were the first to smell money. They'd dive from a ship into a storm-tossed sea for a handful of gold from a wrecked treasure vessel.
A week since darkness fell over the empire. As the emperor offered massive rewards, people began gathering in the north to slay the black dragon—from all corners.
From knightly orders and mage towers to merchant guilds... even crime syndicates.
Serath had met the sender years ago at a small party in the capital. A daughter who wore an innocent smile but exuded the dangerous aura of a venomous butterfly.
"What's the gist?"
"They've sent their hired adventurers our way."
"Now they want us to escort civilians too?"
"No, just passage, it seems. They might've already slipped across the border undetected."
With the Holy Knight Order led by the church and the mage legion from the tower stirring unrest, northern security was like a candle in the wind. To make matters worse, the barbarians—who should be dispersing to their tribes by now—were still clustered at the Great Rock Mountain.
It was unlikely, but if they marched south again, it would be a literal catastrophe.
The best solution in this situation was for them to subjugate the black dragon themselves. Yet the margrave was reluctant to let the Northern Defense Army grow stronger. Serath couldn't move due to Marquis Marcus's checks. It was suffocating on all fronts.
"Has the elite squad returned yet?"
"No, they say the migratory bird hunt is taking longer."
"The snow hasn't even melted—what birds? I doubt we can even see the sky. At this rate, the barbarians might go after the black dragon first..."
Wagner cautiously asked Serath, who was toying with another glass from the cabinet.
"Um... Commander Serath."
"What?"
"If the barbarians attack a special-grade magic beast like you said, wouldn't that be good for us?"
The sun's disappearance was a dire warning for the plains tribes too. A prolonged winter would break them.
But touching the black dragon's lair would mean annihilation. They'd be too busy replenishing lost warriors to eye the empire for at least a decade.
Yet Wagner couldn't grasp Serath's thinking at all. The fact that her report of a possibility even her adjutant hadn't considered had been lightly dismissed from above was why she was this enraged.
"What if they succeed?"
"Pardon?"
The rewards the imperial family offered for slaying a special-grade magic beast were immense. Not just riches, but radical conditions that could upend one's divinely ordained status from birth.
Prince Consort Candidate—the qualification to become imperial in-law.
"If that bastard who's been cornering me cuts off Caladrak's head and brings dawn back to the empire."
The emperor, appointed as the goddess's proxy by the church, spoke with absolute authority. His direct edicts were no different.
In the unlikely event.
Even if it was a one-in-a-million chance, if the dragon fresh from slumber fell to some axe-wielding warrior.
If such a thing happened.
"What do you think would happen then?"
A mere barbarian would gain the right to marry the emperor's daughter—or son.
It would unleash an unprecedented crisis in imperial history.