Chapter 12
“Kieeeek-”
A ghastly cry that made the blood run cold. Blazing sunlight that felt as if it might sear the skin from the flesh. A dry, barren stretch of earth.
There had once been. A human army that spread over it with majestic force.
Now there was no one breathing, no one standing upright, only swarms of insects and carrion birds roaming greedily among the dead.
“Goreuk.”
Gobra planted his blunt greatsword in the ground and caught his breath. The vicious heat and the scorching wind rising in barren gusts had left him parched. He yanked off his shabby armor, rough hands tearing it free, since it had long since ceased to serve any purpose.
Just as the faint relief of that small release began to loosen his tension.
“To handle all of this alone. Impressive.”
“....!”
At the sudden voice, Gobra drew his sword without hesitation and twisted counterclockwise. He judged the height of the voice, the distance it implied, and in an instant gauged the gap before sweeping the greatsword sideways.
KAAAANG-!!!
A massive crack of rupturing air. The pressure alone blew part of the rocky hill to his left away without a trace.
“Mm. A splendid sword strike. Excellent.”
Two fingers encased in jet-black armor had caught the edge of Gobra's blade.
However tired he might have been, he had never imagined his sword would be stopped like that. More than that, he had not noticed the man approaching this close at all.
“Goreuk. Who are you?”
Gobra narrowed his eyes and glared at the stranger. Then, when the other's head came into view, the strength in the hand gripping his greatsword went slack for an instant.
“A Dullahan?”
Black full plate armor. A helmet tucked beneath one arm. Blue will-o'-the-wisps rising where a neck should have been.
The Dullahan he had only heard of in stories now stood before him, tall and unmistakable.
“Indeed it is. This body is a Dullahan. Mureso Aldbaha, commander of the Demon King's Army, Fifth Corps.”
“Goreuk. Gobra, strike leader of the cavalry unit under the Eighth Corps of the Demon King's Army.”
Having confirmed him as an ally, Gobra lowered his sword.
The helmet-head of Mureso, who had obediently released the blade, shone with a blue gleam in its eye sockets.
“Ah. So it is true. The one said to have killed the Sword Saint of his era and stolen that seat for himself.”
“You know Gobra?”
“Of course. The Demon Lord rarely praised anyone, and yet your name came up more than once. As a swordsman myself, this body has always wanted to know you. To meet you by chance in a place like this... one might call it fate.”
The eye sockets flickered pink for an instant.
Sensing some nameless threat, Gobra stepped back.
“Mm. What is the matter?”
“Goreuk. Nothing.”
Assuming it was his imagination, Gobra looked up at Mureso and asked, “What business brings the Fifth Corps commander all the way here? As far as Gobra knows, the Fifth Corps has been at war with the West Sea Forest.”
Could they really be struggling against the World Tree and the elves? Had they sent for reinforcements from the nearby Eighth Corps?
But if that was the case, why had a corps commander come in person instead of simply sending a messenger?
As Gobra watched him with mounting questions, he heard a voice like metal being scraped.
“I got lost.”
“???”
Was that a joke, Fifth Corps style?
“This body’s Batrer. In search of a mate. Left this body behind and went off on its own.”
...No, that was not it.
Thrown off balance, Gobra asked again, “What is Batrer?”
“This body’s steed. The name of the bi-con.”
In other words, he had gotten lost because the horse he rode off on had gone to mate.
“Is the Fifth Corps commander perhaps directionally challenged?”
“Regrettably. That is so.”
Perhaps because he carried his head around separately. Gobra had never imagined that someone of corps-commander rank would be hopeless with directions. Surely the other corps commanders he had not yet met were not all like this, were they?
“Come to think of it, you said you were part of the cavalry, didn't you? Why aren't you riding a horse? Where are your other subordinates?”
“How would a goblin ride a horse? And Gobra is alone.”
“Mm?”
“This cavalry unit and this strike leader business are just titles and affiliations my master made up. I don't actually ride a horse. I don't have subordinates, either.”
At present, the Eighth Corps consisted only of Gobra and his master. It had merely been a position his master had forced into existence because he happened to have the ability for it. Why the Demon Lord was so intent on courting a master like that, Gobra could not understand.
“Your master? Ah. I see. Then you are a retainer. So the one you call master must be the newly appointed Eighth Corps commander. Certainly, the organization of a corps is the prerogative of its commander. But why would they arrange it in such a way?”
“He said it was... because it was cool.”
Even now, that reason sounded absurd.
“The Eighth Corps commander is certainly a fine person.”
“Goreuk?”
“One who understands the coolness of a horse is surely a good person.”
“....”
“What brought this body here was fate. If possible, I would like to meet the Eighth Corps commander.”
Was he asking where she was? Gobra, reading the situation, pointed behind them.
“She is over there.”
“Mm?”
Kieeeek!
Kreeeek!!
A hideous cry echoed from far away. Beyond countless rocky peaks, something huge and red writhed over and over again.
The serpentlike, insectlike form was entangled with smaller red shapes much like itself, and together they were dragging a nation toward ruin.
“That is... Jusu?”
“Goreuk. You know it?”
“Indeed. There were rumors that the disciple of the First Corps commander had appeared. So it was true.”
The blue will-o'-the-wisp in the helmet-head brightened further.
“To think I would see another Jusu user besides her. A vampire who could not wield martial skill or magic had been made commander of the Eighth Corps, and this body could not understand it. But if she is a Jusu practitioner, then it is understandable. One question I had carried all this time has now been answered.”
“Is Jusu really that incredible?”
“Incredible? You are naive. This is not a matter of that level. It is not something one can learn, nor something one can master. Jusu is something that simply works. However, to make it work, one must be a being with emotion and reason who dares to harbor an impossibility that life itself should not contain. Most rational beings are worn down and collapse in the process.”
The pauses in his speech grew more frequent. Was he getting worked up about something?
Gobra did not fully understand what he was saying, but he understood this much: if one went mad in a clean, respectable way like his master, one could use Jusu.
“But there is something a little unusual about you.”
“Goreuk?”
The blue fire in the helmet's eye sockets shifted into a prismatic sheen.
“A white-haired vampire with his eyes closed. Eighth Corps commander. Am I correct?”
“...Correct. You can see that?”
They were at quite a distance from here. Gobra was mildly startled, and Mureso's helmet-jaw clicked shut with a hard clack.
“I can. Which is why I wonder.”
“Wonder about what?”
“As far as this body knows, Jusu differs by individual. Each has their own formula, and one imagines the impossibility they hold before manifesting it in the present. In that process, there is no such thing as an incantation or activation word, so I understand.”
“....”
“Self-harm with a sword is the same. Why go so far as to cut your own body? The First Corps commander did not do such a thing.”
As his speech grew less broken, Mureso voiced his question.
And Gobra knew the answer.
“Moreover, that sword is familiar. Could it be a holy sword? How much blood must it have drunk to become so corrupted?”
That question, too, Gobra could answer.
So he told him the words his master had once spoken.
“For coolness.”
“Coo... lness? What does that mean?”
“In short, it means staging things so they look cool.”
“....”
“'When using a strong technique, it is common sense to shout the proper name for it,' my master said.”
Even now, Gobra still found it impossible to accept. Perhaps it made some sense for magic or holy arts, but beyond that it was nothing more than pointless behavior. To shout the name of some grand technique every time you swung a blade was insane.
“There is merit in that.”
“Goreuk?”
What had that hunk of iron with no neck just said?
“Strong techniques. Power. A fitting name. Staging. Artificial embellishment.”
The pauses returned, frequent again.
“Oho! So that is it! Those words and actions that seem so unnecessary... each and every one of them is meant to instill fear and discouragement in the enemy!”
“That is not it...!”
“Magnificent! It must be one of the highest forms of strategy. From this point on, this body will emulate the Eighth Corps commander. No, better yet, I should formally raise the matter at the commander meeting. The others will surely agree.”
How had the conversation gone that way?
Before Gobra could argue further, Mureso walked past him and started off.
“Where are you going?”
“I wish to speak with the Eighth Corps commander. So of course I should go where she is.”
And with that, he strode forward as if leading the way.
Toward the north, not the south where his master was.
“That is not the way.”
“Mm?”
“Haa. Just follow Gobra.”
His body should have recovered from exhaustion, and yet why did he feel even more tired now? Gobra's head throbbed.
- xx years of retainer life. A bizarre trend spreading through the workplace. On a barren land where guilt had begun to take root -
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
The day after I was hooked by my soon-to-be daughter, who had started giving off a strangely alluring scent, I went to the headquarters of the Ability Management Bureau and received my Special Class ability certificate.
Kim Su-hyun and Shin Hyun-ah didn't show up; some ordinary staff member came out and handed it over politely instead. Had I scared them too much?
“The director has issued special instructions to make every convenience available to you.”
“Oh?”
At least the glasses guy knew how to read a room.
After that, I listened to the employee's careful explanation. Normally, every awakened person's personal information is registered on the International Awakened Organization, the IAO, list, but from Special Class upward, if you do not want it disclosed, you can keep everything except your name private, so I did exactly that.
While I was at it, I got a job too.
I had gone from unemployed to Hunter.
It was a simple job, really: kill monsters, bring back the byproducts and mana stones, and be done with it. Since it supposedly paid the most among awakened occupations, I registered without hesitation.
“The director said you can keep using your ID card as it is, and that the adoption paperwork for Lee Seo-ah student has already been processed, so I was told to relay that to you.”
The speed of the work was almost unreal.
Still, it was convenient having someone powerful around. I was almost grateful for the back-channel favor. If not for that, I would have felt a little guilty.
I'll keep making use of him whenever I need to.
“The only remaining step is Lee Seo-ah student's own consent.”
Seeing the consent form sent to my Device made my heart race. The moment had finally come when I would have my family.
I should go get her fingerprint on it right away!
.
.
.
.
.
“No.”
“Eh?”
What do you mean, Seo-ah?