The Lion King of the Valley (7)
Edkan, the commander of Nemea Fortress, realized the culprit's existence the moment he received Isaac's letter. After all, he wasn't incompetent enough to fail to recognize his direct subordinate's handwriting. Yet a question lodged in his mind tormented him. He had thought of the man as a rude noble brat, but he had still believed they were comrades who shared the duty of protecting the kingdom's people. Or perhaps... he had simply wanted to believe that. Edkan was no fool who would let personal feelings interfere with his duty. He immediately summoned his troops—to arrest the criminal who had broken military law and created such a horrific scene.
But his opponent was no pushover either. Sensing Edkan's mobilization, the man led his personal guard and blocked Edkan's path. Edkan clicked his tongue. "You were rotten to the core."
Of course, he couldn't have carried out everything alone. Even with the Lion King as an external threat. Edkan's sharp gaze settled on one particular figure. Light brown hair tied back. But the eyes behind the glasses no longer smiled. Instead, they were filled with contempt, as if looking at an insect. Mac Clinton, the fortress's staff officer.
"Why have you suddenly mobilized the troops, Commander?"
"Indeed, it was rather hasty."
"I'm glad you understand. Though it's already too late."
"But I could no longer allow the soldiers to suffer any more casualties."
Three years. It had been three years. Because of his own incompetence, countless soldiers had been sacrificed over those three long years. Therefore, he could no longer increase the casualties. That was the duty of the commander of Nemea Fortress.
At Edkan's words, Mac let out a deep sigh. He had never taught such weak nonsense. From the beginning, the man must have already understood everything—because Mac himself had taught him so.
"You already know, don't you? Since you're my student."
"……The kingdom's expansion policy has already come to a halt due to internal troubles. Yet Nemea Fortress continued to suffer casualties."
"Then what would an ordinary kingdom have done?"
"Replaced the person in charge, dispatched elite troops, or negotiated with the other side. If the situation was so dire that even that was impossible, they would have abandoned the fortress and retreated."
"But the kingdom's choice was?"
"…………They only sent more troops."
It was strange when he thought about it. Maintaining the status quo only meant more innocent soldiers dying. Yet the kingdom kept deploying additional forces. Yes, that was all they did.
"I did find it odd. With casualties this severe, there was no reprimand, let alone any investigation."
"Isn't the meaning behind that quite obvious?"
"C-Commander, what does that mean?"
"It means the kingdom has been turning a blind eye to this massacre all this time."
Unlike Edkan, who calmly stated the truth, confusion instantly spread among the soldiers. Edkan's words were no different from saying the kingdom had been using them as expendable pawns.
"What reason could they possibly have? Does the kingdom want this kind of slaughter?"
But no matter how hard he thought, Edkan could not figure out the reason. Why? What benefit could they possibly gain by treating soldiers who had taken up arms for their own country as expendable?
"The number of soldiers sacrificed over the past three years is 576."
"…I already know that……"
"Even that number, if we only count this year's casualties, is 41. Based on a yearly average, the expected number would be 93."
"What are you trying to say?"
"It means there is enormous profit to be gained by sacrificing that many lives, Commander."
At first, transforming the Red Fever Tree from a miracle into a monster had required tremendous sacrifices. But as time passed, resistance decreased and management became more efficient.
"It's not even one person per day. If we sacrifice just one person every five days, our kingdom can rise as a more powerful hegemonic state."
"……"
"Do you understand what that means? It means we can drive out both the detestable Pope State and the valley natives by force!"
Now that they could stably obtain the leaves of the Red Fever Tree, related research was already underway. Among them was the creation of an immortal army that would not die no matter how many times it was killed. Ninety-three people a year—and even that number would gradually decrease over time. If they just closed their eyes once, they could take revenge on the detestable Lion King. It was certainly an attractive proposition.
"What meaning would power obtained that way have?"
"Are you in your right mind? We could even take revenge!"
"The target of that revenge is you, Mac Clinton."
Of course, his heart still commanded him to tear the Lion King apart. But if he looked at it coldly and objectively—who had started this massacre in the first place? Mac Clinton. No, the kingdom behind him. A commander must remain especially calm. Only then could he prevent further casualties. Even if it meant locking the barn after the horse had bolted.
Edkan drew his sword. "What is wrong must be corrected."
"How amusing. You intend to oppose the kingdom?"
"Is it normal to gain enormous wealth by sacrificing lives?"
"A foolish choice…… Well, fine. There are other ways."
Mac raised his hand—to completely finish off the fool. But that never happened. Because a slicing sound rang right beside Mac's ear.
"Huh……?"
The sound had come from far too close to be the rebel's neck. Feeling something was wrong, Mac turned his gaze to the side. Only then did he see it—his own severed wrist.
"Aaaaargh?!"
As if he had never imagined he himself would be harmed, Mac screamed and collapsed. Responding to his scream, blood began to flow from the severed surface.
"Master……"
"Close your eyes for a moment."
Master's face was heavier and more serious than ever. Zeek recalled Master's teachings—about why he used his fists instead of a sword against people.
"One must not grow accustomed to taking human lives."
"But even so, moments that cannot be avoided will come."
"That is why we must be even more cautious. Once taken, a life cannot be returned."
"Draw your sword with care. But once drawn, be decisive."
Master drawing his sword against a person meant he was prepared to bear responsibility for that person's death. Knowing this, Zeek did not close her eyes. Instead, she watched clearly.
"Zeek."
"I won't let you bear it alone, Master."
"……"
"That's what family is, isn't it?"
"You got me there."
"What are you doing?! Kill that bastard right now!!!"
Mac's scream-like order rang out. His guards hurriedly drew their weapons. But they were far too slow. Once again, a sword flashed from Isaac's scabbard.
"I will not take your lives."
It happened in an instant. The weapons in the hands of the hundred-plus guards were precisely shattered. They immediately understood—if he had wanted to, he could have killed them all.
"Too much blood has already been spilled."
He walked forward with dignity. There was no hesitation in his steps. Yet no one moved to stop him. They had all been overwhelmed by that single strike.
"W-Wait! I'm a victim too! I……"
Mac was no fool. In that fleeting moment, he realized what the man was saying. His desperately working mind arrived at the most probable course of action. But it was already too late. Isaac drawing his sword against a person meant he was prepared to bear responsibility for that person's death.
Soon, his sword left its scabbard once more.
"With today's death, it ends."
Along with the slicing sound, Mac's vision shook violently. That was the last sight Mac Clinton saw in this world.
Isaac sheathed his sword and raised his head. "I will end this fortress's tragedy."
Not a single person voiced opposition to that declaration.
* * *
The darkness within the fortress had been dealt with, but that did not mean things would be resolved smoothly. The lives of the soldiers sacrificed until now, and the ensuing chaos—those were inevitable. Moreover, even if the misunderstanding had been cleared, the conflict between the Lion Tribe and Nemea Fortress was not completely resolved. After all, it was an undeniable fact that many soldiers had died at the hands of the Lion King. Naturally, there were quite a few hardliners in the fortress who insisted they had to settle things with the Lion Tribe once and for all. In fact, even Commander Edkan himself would have preferred that, if he followed his heart. But now he could not.
"There have already been too many sacrifices."
"And the one who provided the pretext was none other than the kingdom."
"I will no longer be played by them."
Edkan made his decision. He would no longer be played. A commander must always remain calm. Only then could he see the bigger picture and shape the future. That was what it meant to be a commander.
"……In the end, nothing has been resolved."
From the merchants' wagons returning to the Mikas Kingdom, Zeek muttered with a dissatisfied expression. It was not wrong. The kingdom's corruption had not been fully exposed, and the conflict between the Lion Tribe and Nemea Fortress remained unchanged. Of course, there was the mage Isaac had captured, but compared to the greater flow, that was nothing more than a tiny pebble.
"The world is vast. What we do within it is no more than throwing a pebble into a lake."
"Does that mean the flow cannot be changed in the end?"
"If it were just one person, perhaps."
Yes, at least on the surface, that was how it appeared. But things would gradually begin to change. Both Nemea Fortress and the Lion Tribe. Change always begins with the smallest things.
"You want me to wear this necklace and attend the meeting?"
"Yes. That is my personal request for compensation."
"This is the first time I've received such an unusual request. It won't be difficult."
'Urcan has probably noticed by now.'
Having received his promised compensation, Isaac had requested an additional reward—that Urcan wear the necklace when attending the meeting with the Lion Tribe. By now, Urcan had likely realized who his son was.
"Tiny grains of sand pile up to form a mountain."
"……"
Zeek looked at her Master. Leaning against the shabby wagon, covered in dust, he was far from glamorous. Yet he was smiling.
"I believe that if we keep helping people in need, one day a better world will surely come."
Goodwill begetting goodwill. Rejecting the hand of injustice. Demanding truth for oneself. Such a world.
Zeek silently leaned her head against Isaac's shoulder. But her pounding heart showed no sign of calming. Instead, it began to race even more violently.
'I can't look at Master's face.'
Why was she like this? Young Zeek still did not understand the meaning of that heartbeat.