Chapter 103: Caliber
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 103: Caliber
In the heart of a desolate, snowy mountain range, all was silent. Even the creatures resilient enough to brave the cold had retreated into slumber, enduring the winter beneath gloomy, oppressive skies.
Suddenly, a massive vertical rift tore through space.
The rift, shimmering with dizzying, iridescent colors like oil slicking across water, spat out its contents. Two figures emerged: a massive, hulking man and another clad in a gray robe.
The robed man was the one Ferda had identified as Gokma.
They stood before the jagged snowy peaks.
"Did we really have to come this way?" the big man asked.
"We didn't."
"Then why?"
"No other place came to mind."
"Hmph."
The big man looked up at the mountain. It was the site where the Dark Elf Linne had once operated as the research director. However, that was now a thing of the past.
"What did you decide to do with Linne?"
"I decided to let the research proceed."
"A generous move."
The big man snorted at Gokma’s words.
"Generous? Hardly. I’ll kill her once it’s finished. She was a woman with no value beyond that to begin with."
"Slaughtering the hound once the hunt is over? I suppose that leaves no loose ends."
The man turned to leave. It was then.
Gokma suddenly felt a surge of murderous intent directed at his back. He raised a hand and spun around instantly.
Something slammed into his palm.
Boom!
The big man’s fist met his hand. Though he was significantly outmatched in raw strength, Gokma held his ground, feet rooted to the earth.
"…What is the meaning of this?"
"I am simply following your lead."
"And what exactly have I done?"
"You’ve been dodging the conversation, so I’ve given up on talking. Do we need more words?"
"I haven't the slightest idea what you're talking about."
"Don't try to deceive me. You brought up that Dark Elf wench specifically to avoid the topic, didn't you?"
"And what is this conversation I’m supposedly avoiding? It seems you already know."
"Ferda Valdrova."
The big man growled, his anger palpable.
"Why didn't you kill that man?"
"…"
"See? You can't even answer."
The big man sneered at Gokma’s silence.
"I never liked you from the start. Pathetically clinging to life in secret after being run through by the Hero, only to show your face now."
"…"
"You should have died right then and there. Not returned like this, living so disgracefully."
"If you think dying like that is so grand…"
Gokma glared back, his eyes finally flickering with emotion.
"Then why are you still alive? Why didn't you follow our Father?"
"Is that not because of you?"
"That is nothing but an excuse. When I brought you back to life, I told you my objective clearly. And you accepted it. If you act like this now, how are you any different from the fickle humans you despise?"
The big man’s brow twitched. However, instead of escalating the violence, he withdrew his fist.
Gokma spoke as he watched him.
"There was a reason I didn't kill Ferda. As expected, you never truly know a human until you see them for yourself."
There was only one person in the past who had ever made Gokma say those words. He reached back into his distant memories.
Gokma had once looked down on the weakness of humans as trivial. He had mocked their fragility, crushing and destroying everything they believed in.
That was why, until the very moment of his death, he never imagined it possible. He never dreamed that from among those weak human herds, one would emerge with the power to pierce his heart.
And he certainly never expected that man to eventually wipe out even the Demon King.
The seed of rebellion that had severed Godwin’s will.
The Hero.
Gokma instinctively touched his chest. What had led him to his death wasn't a holy sword imbued with the protection of gods and dragons, but a crude kitchen knife.
Though he had been resurrected, the fact that he had died in such a manner served as a constant warning.
Yet, he smiled. It was a smile born of pure joy. Because of that imperfect death, the will lived on, and he had been able to grow this strong.
Surely, Father was also smiling within the void.
Gokma thought the Hero was the only one who could ever make him reconsider his judgment twice. But there is no such thing as "absolute" in this world.
Ferda Valdrova.
He felt the same sense of "unexpectedness" from that man that he had felt from the Hero. Though the direction was different, the essence of the sensation was the same.
Gokma knew exactly what that sensation was.
"Hm?"
The big man grunted, casting his gaze toward a patch of snow.
"What is it?"
"…Someone is there."
All that was visible was a field completely buried in white. No—as Gokma followed the big man’s gaze, he saw something protruding unnaturally.
It looked like a helmet. Given its rugged shape, one might have mistaken it for a stone statue placed there.
But a moment later, the snow piled atop the "statue" shifted.
It stood up.
It was a suit of armor, rough and crude, as if a great stone mountain had been carved into human form. Seeing that armor, it became clear how he could have remained so still while the snow covered his body.
"Alberdo. It’s you."
His appearance was as stolid as his epithet. He possessed a presence that truly earned him the title of the Walking Fortress.
"It can't be a coincidence that we’ve run into you like this. Have you been waiting?"
He did not answer. Words were unnecessary to begin with.
He picked up the mace and shield he had set down. The heavy mace was over two meters long, and the shield was of a similar size. The armor covering his entire body was equally rugged and coarse.
Judging by his gear alone, he looked sluggish, and in truth, his movements were on the slower side. Nevertheless, he was the most infamous figure among the Demon Race.
That infamy was not unearned.
The big man, in particular, began to tremble violently upon seeing him.
"You… you son of a bitch…!"
Losing his reason as if he had finally found his prey, the big man charged at Alberdo.
"I’ll kill you today for sure!"
His fist swung with enough force to shatter armor. Alberdo raised his mace in perfect timing to meet the blow.
Just as they were about to collide, Gokma traced a finger through the air.
A rift in space opened between the big man and Alberdo, swallowing the big man whole. Alberdo’s mace swung through empty air and slammed into the ground.
Boom!
The ground shook violently. Snow erupted into the sky before settling back down.
Alberdo looked toward Gokma.
Gokma spoke. "Please understand. He’s only acting out because he’s bitter about you snapping his limbs once before."
"…"
"Besides, the one you want isn't those small fry, but me, isn't it?"
It might have sounded narcissistic, but it was the truth. Alberdo had pursued Gokma alone, which was why he was sitting in this spot.
"Stop this. Nothing will change even if you track me, Alberdo."
"…"
"You have no mana; you are nothing but a mere human. If I simply swipe my finger and leave this space, you will have to trudge across the continent on foot again. Despite such absurdity, you continue your lonely search for me."
"…"
Alberdo gave no reply.
Gokma spoke those words, but he did not mock Alberdo. The number of demons and monsters slaughtered by his slow, heavy strikes was beyond counting, and the number of settlements he had razed reached double digits.
Without anyone to acknowledge his deeds, he moved silently with the sole purpose of killing demons. That was why the man was called the Walking Fortress, Alberdo.
"Since you hate demons so much, I’ll tell you this much. Do you know what I saw today?"
The face of Ferda came to his mind.
"The caliber of a Demon King."
"…"
"He was a human with extraordinary potential. Right now, he harbors the insolent ambition of conquering the Land of Demons, but that is only for a moment."
Gokma flashed a thin, predatory smile.
"What remains at the end of loss is always emptiness."
Gokma tore through space once more.
"And in emptiness, rage always finds its home."
With that, Gokma vanished from the spot.
There was nothing Alberdo could do. He raised his head and looked at the sky. The weather was dismal. A blizzard was imminent.
The gale would blow and the snow would pile up again, but it would not stop his steps. His journey toward where the monsters gathered was usually aimless.
But today was different. Unlike other times, his footsteps were moving clearly toward a specific destination.
* * *
Despite the sudden appearance of monsters, the morning was peaceful, contrary to expectations of panic.
Though some had died and others were seriously injured, it didn't lead to a spiral of grief. People were simply relieved that their trust in Security Force Captain William and the support of the Dragon Spawn had averted the worst-case scenario.
However, there are always those who find such an atmosphere distasteful. Hanson was exactly that kind of man.
Hanson, who had come here dreaming of the Gold Rush before anyone else, did not like this peace.
Things should be more chaotic.
Social mobility usually stems from turmoil. Hanson’s obsession with social status was stronger than most.
He was a carpenter, an architect who had been second-rate back in the Empire. Had he stayed there, the position of foreman would have remained a mere fantasy. He was already holding a rank far above his actual abilities.
But human greed knows no bounds.
I want to go even higher.
A noble’s seat. Or, if not a noble, at least a position where the commoners here would bow their heads to him.
It was something impossible for guys like me.
Normally, such things were nothing more than a daydream for commoners. There was a reason storytellers spun tales of beggars finding fate-changing opportunities to become princes or princesses; such fantasies lived in everyone’s hearts.
Hanson’s delusions were particularly severe. And why wouldn't they be? Did he not have a massive stroke of luck on his side?
The Armored Knight.
It wasn't an exaggeration to say everything had been achieved through him. The man was easy to handle, and his abilities were so outstanding that he made Hanson look good every single time. He had elevated Hanson from a mere laborer to a foreman.
Looking at him in the beginning, Hanson had thought: This man will surely become a knight soon.
That was why he had flattered him, acted as his voice, and taken care of everything he could. He expected the man to be knighted within a month at most.
But the Armored Knight never became a knight. He remained at the construction site.
The Armored Knight needs to become a knight for me to have real power…
He wanted to move beyond being a foreman to a site manager, commanding even more people. For that to happen, the Armored Knight had to climb higher.
When he was summoned to the castle, I thought, 'This is it!'…
Who would have known he’d be the type to kick away his own good fortune? Even if Hanson said it was fine to his face, he was the type to go behind his back and sip booze to soothe his bitter heart.
But what could he do? He just had to live according to his station.
"The atmosphere is quite grim, isn't it?"
The one who tossed out that remark was a woman. She looked a bit young to be of marriageable age. The insolent air about her face made her look like a sheltered maiden.
But there was no way such an insolent girl would be in this village. This woman was undoubtedly a novice mage.
Getting involved with her seems like a headache…
Hanson ignored her as if he hadn't heard. At that, the woman stepped closer and spoke more pointedly.
"Ahem. I heard that wolf monsters raided the place."
"…So?"
"'So?' That’s a bit informal. I heard many casualties occurred because I didn't arrive in time."
"Only four people died."
"Do you even know what 'casualties' means? It includes the injured, not just the dead."
"Even so, we held our ground well. If more of those adventurer types had stepped in, there wouldn't have been any deaths at all."
"Doesn't that ultimately mean it’s the fault of the incompetent higher-ups who couldn't respond to such a situation?"
"…What are you talking about?"
Hanson frowned and looked down at the woman. She smiled boldly and said, "Think about it. Why did you come to this city? To make money, right?"
"That’s right…"
"I’m sure the employers who lured you here said the same thing. That while it’s close to the Land of Demons, it’s actually safer because of that. Something like that."
It was true. He hadn't fully believed it, but it was something everyone just accepted. The people who came here were those who had no other jobs anyway.
"And in the midst of that, you were attacked. People died. And yet, you plan to just sit still?"
"…So what do you want me to do, missy?"
"Haha! That’s why I’m suggesting a way, isn't it?"
She stepped closer as if they were finally speaking the same language. A thick scent of flowers wafted from her.
"So, are you the foreman?"
"I am."
"How many laborers are under you?"
"About fifty or so…"
"If you sway the other foremen, that’ll be a hundred."
"I suppose."
"Think about it. The population of this city is nearly six hundred now. Just your group alone is a hundred people. That’s a full sixth of the population."
"Is it…?"
"Do you know how much damage would be caused if you all suddenly pulled out of a village like this?"
"…"
Come to think of it… she was right. This construction site only ran because they were there. If the labor that had to continue day after day were to stop, it would be a massive blow.
"You are precious, irreplaceable human resources. Shouldn't you be furious that such resources are being treated this way?"
"Hmm…"
"You have the right to enjoy more money and a higher status. That greenhorn Regent needs to realize once and for all that human lives are something money can't buy."
Hanson thought it made sense. More than anything, these words reached him just as his greed was reaching a boiling point. It was no different from a devil’s whisper.
"But how am I supposed to do something like that?"
The woman flashed a mischievous, almost wicked smile.
"There’s always a way. I’ll help you."
* * *
Despite the sudden appearance of monsters, the village had been successfully defended.
There were thirty casualties: five soldiers, fifteen civilians, and ten adventurers who had joined the fray. Among them, four had died—all of whom were civilians.
Because of this, the morning in Hestia Village could not be the same as usual.
Isabella spoke.
"A strike has broken out."