Chapter 75
Chapter 75
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 75
Chapter Title: How a Shaman Influences a War (4)
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"The holy sword isn't here."
"Huh?"
"The Pope has it."
Something on the level of a holy sword wouldn't be here, naturally.
It made sense for it to be with the Pope and the priests.
"Ah, Elder, you can go wherever you like."
He'd be enchanted again soon enough and wandering about, but he'd snap out of it quickly.
And that's why we were heading to retrieve the holy sword.
...
After walking a bit, we spotted where the priests had gathered.
The support force had grown so large that there wasn't enough space to house them all.
So they'd converted the locals' houses into lodgings.
And among them, the largest house—that was where Pope Uncle was staying.
"Greetings to the Saintess and Sir Chris."
The priests noticed us and bowed in greeting.
Several approached, but upon seeing Luna sleeping on my back, they quietly halted.
They dipped their heads silently in lieu of words.
I returned the gesture with a quiet nod and kept walking.
"What do you plan to use the holy sword for? Not stepping on it with your foot again...?"
I could see Aluerd tense up.
He must have thought I'd kick the holy sword again.
"Not this time. I'm going to use it like a guardian post. I need something to awaken the spirits with."
"You're not doing it yourself, Sir Chris?"
"I have to head up the mountain too."
As we reached the front of the building, the holy knights opened the door as if they'd been waiting.
And inside, at a table, Pope Uncle sat with a group of people.
Old Man Closel was there too.
"Come in."
"There you are. We were just in the middle of an important meeting."
The nobles seated in a row beside Uncle rose from their chairs.
"Pleased to meet you. I'm Nordin, in charge of the support force."
"Count Kebeman."
"Count Filad. I've heard plenty about you from Lord Parmon."
I had no idea what stories Parmon had shared or how, but they were all brimming with goodwill.
Count Nordin stared at me a bit uncomfortably.
"It was quite the sight. Walking through those undead..."
"It wasn't a big deal."
With everyone gathered like this, I might need to switch up the order.
Honestly, I'd planned to start with the priests since their fortunes seemed the toughest.
Just the commanders first should be manageable.
The back-and-forth greetings quieted as Pope Uncle spoke up.
"Do you need anything?"
"My tightrope... no, the holy sword and some holy power."
"We'll prepare them. Is that sufficient?"
That wasn't all.
There was a lot to do.
We were leaving for the mountain tomorrow, so time was tight.
"No time to waste, so let's start here."
The first one I needed to read was Old Man Closel.
"Planning a divination?"
"Something like battle prep."
The old man nodded as if he understood.
This was convenient.
People who grasped what I was doing right away.
"So that's the rumored divination."
"They say it lets you see the future?"
A storm of information flooded my mind in an instant.
Definitely sharper than before.
Clearer, with more details.
"Old Man, your luck turns sour starting tomorrow. But with people around, the misfortune eases up a bit."
"No solo actions, then. Shall I lead the mages?"
Unfortunately, that wasn't it.
The moment the old man spoke, a wave of unease hit me.
"You need stronger folks around. You'll have to move with Old Man Parmon."
He flinched.
My arm trembled slightly for a moment.
Just from that one divination, so much had changed.
A huge drop in the number of people who were supposed to die.
I'd leaked a major heavenly secret.
Which just went to show how important our old men were.
"And Count Nordin?"
The counts facing me looked on with eager anticipation.
Not that there was much to look forward to.
These were heavy fortunes involving deaths.
"Count Nordin, if you take the front lines, you'll die."
"What...?"
Dark energies enveloped Count Nordin.
His image flickered—upside down one moment, upright the next.
Death probability seemed extremely high.
Practically guaranteed, depending.
"Death's close, so stay cautious always."
"Understood. I'll hear the rest and adjust the formation."
"Next, Count Kebeman."
Sudden sharp pain in my shoulder—not the one shaking the rattle, the opposite.
"Count, watch your shoulder."
Not like being struck.
More like a searing line sliced across, definitely a blade.
"Your left arm could get severed."
"My arm?"
"On a personal level, yes..."
But there was more.
A calamity where he'd lose everyone around him.
Not from his own luck, but fates tangled together.
A commander with this in war? Definitely caution.
"Setting up on the west will cause heavy losses."
Silence fell as eyes turned to the table.
Old Man Closel broke it, pointing to a spot on the map.
"We'll need to change the formation. You take the right flank."
"But, Lord Closel, frankly, can we trust this...?"
"I'll vouch for it."
Pope Uncle chimed in.
"I recommend following Sir Chris's words. Everything he says is an oracle."
The counts exchanged shocked glances.
The Pope calling it an oracle was proof of utmost trust.
Anyway, I shook the rattle once more.
"You're susceptible to temptation. No impulsive actions, ever."
"That won't happen."
Still felt off.
Truth was, Count Kebeman had the face of a greedy man from the start.
Prominent cheekbones, upturned lips.
Those types usually botch things out of greed.
I shot Old Man Closel a look, and he nodded.
"Next, Count Filad?"
Quick-witted, deep schemer.
Snake-like cunning, but honest at heart.
True to form, heavily involved in strategy.
Now my head throbbed.
Fleeting terror flickered.
Undead-like stench beside the count.
"Beware necromancer magic. You could get tripped up by undead."
And one more thing.
The farther east, the better for him.
Another tangled fate situation.
Telling them led to more formation talk.
"Kebeman and Filad Counts swap places. But Nordin's knight order has no replacements. Can't adjust that."
"Yes, Lord Closel."
The moment conclusion was reached, Count Nordin's fortune shifted drastically.
Massive lateral disaster.
When negative fortunes and energies overlap, sudden accidents strike.
Like sudden death.
Count Nordin was now squarely in that position.
Closer to death.
"That setup, and you'll die, Count."
The mood grew heavy.
He spoke first.
"What if we do this? I'll take the vanguard. Concentrate all my forces there."
"That'll kill you too."
"It's different now. We're focusing the dispersed troops. One more divination?"
No change, but the count was stubborn.
Sure enough, vanguard made his image fully inverted.
A dead man.
"Even then, I die?"
"Yes."
"And the others?"
"Others?"
No shoulder pain.
No headache.
Count Nordin spoke matter-of-factly.
"My knight order is exceptionally skilled. Sweeping the front lines would benefit everyone."
"No, you'll die."
"If your divination truly works, swapping formations already reduced risks."
Spot on.
Original shared the burden.
New way, one spot bears it all.
Sacrificing few for many.
"That's settled. No need to change mine too."
"Count Nordin!"
"Enough."
His unwavering attitude even before death talk drew ominous gazes.
"Our house owes Lord Parmon a debt. That favor was built on others' sacrifices. Now it's our turn."
"..."
"My son is quite sharp. He'd make a fine count in my stead."
Not dying alone.
His death too, entangled results.
"Many who follow you will die too, Count."
"My knights fear no death. Shielding is an honor for them."
"..."
Were all knights like this?
Treating others' lives and their own the same.
"Holy knights aren't factored in yet. Wait, it might change."
Sudden silence.
Pope Uncle stared quietly at one spot.
"..."
"..."
All eyes shifted to my back.
"...Luna?"
Luna had woken, staring at the Pope with pure white eyes.
No twitch, no babble.
Pope Uncle, motionless for a while, finally spoke.
"Saving lives has always been the priests' duty across generations. Sacrifice is closest to us."
"..."
"We'll take the vanguard."
The moment Pope Uncle finished, Luna slipped back into sleep.
*Snore...*
*Snore...*