177. Duty and Profit (2)
177. Duty and Profit (2)
- 1 -
When the fierce wind scouring the plain died away, the air above the battlefield sank like a weight.
I could not tell whether it was the power of so many deaths saturating the mana in the air, or the drifting vengeful spirits.
The sticky air seemed to constrict the breath of the living.
Udeudeuk.
Something crushed beneath my feet as I stepped forward. A dried and withered branch, perhaps, or someone's bone.
I did not cast my gaze.
Everything in this place already belonged to death.
- Save me...!!!
- Revenge... revenge...!!
- I... I'm still... Aah, Moira...
The screams and wails of souls circled my ears.
There were usually two kinds of wraiths on battlefields like this. Those who could not accept their death and eventually departed, and those who sharpened the blade of revenge, cursed the living, and ultimately turned into undead.
Now their forms flickered faintly, like bluish fog.
"Ah..."
Sonia let out a trembling breath. Beside her, Maria's shoulders were also faintly shaking.
The energy of this place, thick with the grudges of the dead, was surely a heavy burden on the living. For the resentment of the dead gnaws away at the souls of the living.
"My consideration was lacking."
I spread my power outward.
Black mana flowed out from beneath my feet and wrapped around Sonia and Maria.
"Thank you, Master."
Sonia's face eased a little. But still, anxiety lingered in her eyes.
This place could not help but be so. Finding peace on a battlefield where countless wraiths wandered was a near-impossible feat.
"Watch closely."
I raised a finger and pointed to the battlefield.
Here and there, where corpses lay tangled together, bluish flames were rising.
The wraith fire danced in the darkness like lanterns of the netherworld. It was the sight of dead men's grudges burning themselves, or burning each other.
"Those are... wraiths?"
"Yes. The end of those who died on the battlefield. Those who died for a noble's power. For a knight's profit. And for my future."
I was the one who created their deaths. Directly, or indirectly. And killing was a sin. Whether it was done out of necessity, or by unavoidable circumstance. But at the same time, I was also the one who would forge their true end. Be it rest, or pain.
"Master. We cannot stay long."
Talhan's voice came quietly.
"I know."
I nodded and stepped forward. We had entered this battlefield as 'undertakers.'
The continent's shamans: those who practiced necromancy transformed into sorcery, moving corpses and soothing wraiths. But even an undertaker doing such noble work could not, by rule, stay long on a battlefield not yet ended.
Kiiik...?
The moment I stepped out of the barrier Talhan was maintaining, the wraiths of the battlefield turned their gazes toward me all at once. Their eyes, glowing red in the darkness, glittered like lighthouses. Gazes and energy sharp as those of predators discovering prey. It felt as if dozens, hundreds of blades were aimed at me, but I merely smiled.
- ...The real one?
- That one?
- Our death?
The threads of grudge extending from them reached for me. They would not have understood it with intellect. Why their grudges were connected to someone they had never seen before. But that soon became irrelevant.
Because a newly born wraith's instincts were far more powerful.
- Kiiyyaaaa - !!!
- Give me your body give me your body give me your body!!
"Observe well, Talhan, Sonia."
Those who can perceive and handle souls must be greatly resolved to enter such a battlefield. For they would have to confront these countless wraiths and endure the ordeal of their swarming. If one endured, one could gain great power. But choosing the near-certain death that came before that was no easy feat with ordinary willpower.
"「Come to me.」"
And before the wave of wraiths that would sweep away and kill an ordinary person, I raised a single hand and pointed at them.
"「Human children who have misjudged rights and duties.」"
Mana flared following my word magic. Black and purple. Karmic flame and fire. As necromancy and soul magic bloomed simultaneously, the wraiths that had been charging came to a halt all at once.
- ?!
- What... what what what!
- Run...!
Those who had stopped of their own volition soon realized the situation and turned to flee. But it was already too late.
- Kyaaaak!!
- Heeheehee - !!
The grudges were swept up. The wraiths ignited. The vengeful spirits and wraiths, which had been bluish or murky grey, gathered together and swirled into a vortex. Cries of grudge filled with terror and despair filled the air all around.
Kuooooo...!!
The small spheres of souls all gathered, and soon became a colossal whirlwind, spinning around me and beginning to fill the sky. The spectacle was like chaos itself. Just as pitch-black clouds swallow the moon, the vortex of souls covered the heavens.
- Kiiyyaaaa - !!
- Kyaaak!!
"This..."
With the wraith vortex held above me, I looked at Talhan and Sonia.
"...is the goal you must keep before your eyes."
I whispered so.
"Truly beautiful, Master."
Greed and awe flashed in Talhan's eyes.
"Yes, Master."
Sonia gazed up at me filled with reverence, then raised her eyes upward and stared intently at the wraiths.
Kuooo...!
- Kyaaak - !!
I looked at the sphere of wraiths compressing and gathering again above my hand. Whatever it might be, the firmer the goal, the better.
- 2 -
The office of Cheoks Fortress, occupied by Elena, the twelfth child of the Ironfield Margrave. A room where black marble pillars supported the ceiling, and three enormous tapestries on the walls spoke of the margraves' history.
At the center of that space, Elena sat upon the Margrave's throne, decorated with gold.
"The master is coming here?"
Upon hearing Yuran's words, Elena's eyes went round. A smile bloomed upon her previously indifferent face, which the knights of Ironfield had praised as 'the knight clad in steel wings.'
Her surprise was understandable, for she had thought she would not see her master again until this war ended. Within her heart, joy, anticipation, and a subtle thrill arose.
"Yes. It seems she wanted to see for herself that Elena was doing well."
Yuran's tone carried a quiet fondness for Elena. At the same time, Yuran's assessment was infinitely modest compared to the reality.
From Leganon to Anutelunus, Cheoks, and Viscruz. In just over three weeks, Elena had succeeded in occupying every fortress of the Cheoks Margraviate, save for the rearmost Gribeler. It was a vast territory spanning over ten fortresses and dozens of villages.
[Another young hero has appeared in Hysen!!]
Considering her age, it was an achievement worthy of such acclaim.
Of course, this was far from any formal territorial annexation or establishing a governance system; it was nothing more than pure military occupation. But for a feat achievable by an individual or a small force, it was a great achievement that would be remembered long in the annals of war.
Elena's advance was so swift that the Margrave's reinforcements, dispatched to stabilize the occupied territories, could not keep pace with the speed of her march. It was only natural that Libertas was overjoyed to hear this news.
"I am still lacking. Perhaps you are coming because you wish to see Lady Yuran."
But despite such great feats, Elena humbly shook her head. It was not mere modesty. Though she had played her part, she knew well that all these battle achievements would have been impossible without the aid of her master and Yuran.
- Dalkak.
Through the window, the figures of soldiers on patrol could be seen. At a casual glance, they looked like ordinary soldiers of the Kingdom of Haisen, but upon closer inspection, there was a subtle unnaturalness in their movements. An army created by controlling the dead. It was the army of Libertas and Yuran.
This was the true reason Elena could freely run rampant through enemy lines even without Ironfield's reinforcements. Because the army of the dead handled the stabilization of occupied lands instead, she could pour out every ounce of her fighting strength without reserve.
'In the end, everything simply went according to the master's will.'
As she thought that, she nodded internally. Thinking of her master warmed a corner of her heart.
"Fufu. Your words alone are kind. Though I know it's both."
A soft smile rose to Yuran's lips at Elena's humility. Within her golden eyes lay a kind of affection for Elena.
The reason Libertas was coming this far was clear. To see and praise the results they had achieved. At the same time, it was likely out of a sense of apology for having kept the closest Yuran so far away. For her master no longer felt much hesitation in expressing love.
"If the master is coming, I absolutely must show her this map."
Elena spoke while looking at the giant map hanging on the wall. The black flags pinned all over it displayed her reports of victory.
"She will surely be pleased."
Tok-tok.
Just then, a knock sounded, halting their conversation. In an instant, Elena returned to being the Great General of Ironfield, and Yuran became the aide within the shadows. The two exchanged glances.
"Enter."
Elena, having seen Yuran's nod as Yuran covered her mouth with a fan, answered in a commanding voice.
"Commander of the Black Iron Order. Answering your summons."
"Come in. Captain."
The one who entered the room was a knight wearing black plate armor embossed with the emblem of a black shield. His pitch-black helmet hung at his side, but a veil-like face covering still masked his face. His gait bore the weight of a man who had traversed countless battlefields.
He was the one who led the most notorious of the three knight orders deployed to Elena's battlefield. Among the Iron Lion Knight Orders of Ironfield, he was the commander of the 14th Order, the 'Black Iron,' which undertook the dirty work of the battlefield: torture, abduction, and assassination.
"First, have a seat. Let's have a cup of tea."
"I would prefer alcohol."
At Elena's offer, he spoke as he fiddled with the cords of his iron mask covering his mouth with a rough touch.
"Well, that is fine too."
The commander nodded and took a seat. His attitude was neutral, yet a measure of respect for Elena showed through. The way he looked at her, with a blade-like stare, was faintly permeated with humanity.
The values a knight holds most heavily are loyalty and force of arms. After all, Elena had regrettably proven at least that force of arms over the past three weeks.
"May I ask why you summoned me."
After removing his iron mask and drinking the strong liquor Elena offered in two gulps, he immediately asked the matter at hand. His attitude was as firm as the scar deeply carved into his face.
Elena looked at Yuran, and Yuran met her eyes and gave a slight nod.
A flash of suspicion rose in the corner of the Knight Commander's eyes at the inexplicable gesture, but it was only for a moment. His doubt vanished in an instant before the single sword Elena laid down.
"This is...?"
The next moment, the Knight Commander's face hardened. He had instantly recognized it was a sword of rare quality. He had not even drawn it from the scabbard yet, but a knight who has lived his whole life with the sword can tell the quality of the armament he wields at a glance.
"Previously, I saw you treat your armaments like consumable goods. It carries no other magic, but it is a weapon of excellent durability."
"...My lady."
The voice that came from his mouth held a measure of disappointment. That sentiment was as deep as the goodwill he had held for her as a knight.
Stroking the scabbard with rough fingers, he murmured.
"General. We do not support any one of the heirs."
Sensing his acute disappointment, Yuran smiled behind her fan. For disappointment was an emotion that only ever arose where there had once been expectation.