385. Crowning (2)
385. Crowning (2)
- 1 -
North of Hysen, the capital of the Verno Marquisate, lay the city of Berno, ruled by Marquis Eskaff.
From a nearby hill, I surveyed the battlefield.
"Yes, yes... Fate. I understand. You've worked hard."
Beside me, Saya held a communication orb and nodded politely.
A moment later, having finished the communication, she smiled brightly and bowed her head.
"Mission completion reports have come in from all fronts. Congratulations, Master."
"Yes. I knew they would."
Holding the reins of a black warhorse, I smiled as I looked around.
At the land that my loyal subordinate Daniel was to inherit.
- Drive out the heretics!!
- We must drag down King Yurena!!
Over yonder, the Holy War Army was relentlessly assaulting the city of Berno.
Seized by fanatical faith, they absolutely refused to retreat.
Their will was so formidable that you would need boiling water instead of hot oil to dislodge them.
Excessive slaughter or leaving permanent aftereffects on them was to be avoided.
They were merely crazed by the conviction that they were right, and they were, after all, 'volunteers,' not regular troops.
They were civilians who would one day have to accept my regime.
"You're quite skilled, Daniel."
"You flatter me, Master."
The man who had become the heir of this marquis household bowed his head courteously.
Even while other northern territories were surrounded and overrun by the Holy War Army, Daniel had thoroughly defended this place—Berno—all on his own.
The reason was that his father-in-law, my steadfast supporter the Marquis of Verno, and his family lived here.
Of course, he had my permission.
[This is the very time to fulfill the duty of the head of a household!]
The Marquis of Verno had been the first and most active supporter of my policy of aristocratic asset redistribution.
Not only did he support it in words, he actually went so far as to release a significant portion of his wealth directly to the people.
Because of that, the prestige of the Marquis of Verno's household was now noticeably diminished.
So much so that rumors had already spread that the number of his household attendants and maids had been halved.
'When this is over, I'll have to reward him with glory that exceeds what the marquis household has lost.'
As a monarch, it was my natural duty to reward those who rendered distinguished service with fitting compensation.
Caught between my orders and his own feelings, Daniel had cleverly managed to catch both rabbits.
I collected my thoughts and gazed at the enormous dust cloud crossing the plains below the hill.
The tall banners of Rugnisah and the Holy Kingdom flapped in the wind.
"Daniel, Harai. Prepare for battle."
"Yes, Your Excellency."
At my call, two commanders stepped forward.
Daniel, leading the regular army of Hysen.
And Harai, leading a mixed unit composed of adventurers, mercenaries, and volunteer troops.
Behind them, the legion I had brought was waiting in silence, holding its breath.
In total, three units awaited the massive enemy approaching from afar.
It was time to close the final loop of the snare.
- 2 -
At the same time, near the border of Elieniessi.
"Though they say the Alliance's resistance is fierce, the heretics' desperate flailing will not last long. History proves it."
"The commander is right. The ends of those who defy God's will have always been miserable. This time will be no exception."
Anselm, atop a splendid chariot pulled by two horses, was chatting amicably with the commander of the Rugnisah forces, who rode alongside him on horseback.
Their demeanor was so relaxed that it was hard to believe they were about to start a war.
Behind them followed two armies with nearly identical auras.
The Holy Kingdom's paladins in white armor with gold insignia, and Rugnisah's knights in white armor with blue-silver insignia.
Their majesty was indeed befitting the armies of nations that served the continent's sole God.
"Look at those Alliance bastards' flags. The crests of monsters and humans are all jumbled together. Nothing could be more disgusting."
A paladin in armor gleaming with gold insignia clicked his tongue and spoke.
Beside him, a Rugnisah knight riding alongside nodded.
"Our Rugnisah also shares a border with the Demon Realm, but something like that is unimaginable to us. They have undoubtedly been bewitched by the monsters' sorcery."
"Not sorcery, but steeped in heretical ideology. The fate of those fools who turn their backs on God and join hands with monsters has always been nothing but ruin. This time will be no different."
Even amidst the acrid smell of blood and the dust blowing from the front lines, their voices were filled with certainty of victory.
In their eyes, the Alliance was nothing more than a sandcastle already crumbling.
That peaceful atmosphere gradually faded once Berno, the Alliance's last bastion, came into view before them.
In its place, the tension of the battlefield took hold.
"Let us encamp here today. It would be best to feed the soldiers well tonight, for the decisive battle tomorrow."
"Do as the commander sees fit. I am nearly a layman when it comes to army operations, so I will leave it entirely to you."
"Thank you, Your Eminence. All troops, set up camp here! Tonight, we feast!"
The soldiers busied themselves setting up camp.
Suddenly, Anselm sensed something strange and furrowed his brow.
Checking the time, it was well past noon.
Normally at this hour, the archbishops dispatched to each front were supposed to report on the army's situation, but no contact had come at all yet.
"You there."
"Yes! Your Eminence."
He summoned a communication mage to ask the reason, but all he heard in reply was that no communication whatsoever had been received yet.
'Not that they were waiting for the time to report, but that no communication has come yet?'
Just yesterday and the day before, he had received reports that each archbishop had entered the borders of the enemy Alliance.
Today, there should at least be an interim report on those achievements.
"We must not underestimate the Alliance's potential, Your Eminence. The other archbishops must also be pressing the heretics with all their might at this very moment."
"Hoho, that must be the case, indeed? It seems I was worrying for nothing."
At the commander's comforting words, Anselm nodded, trying hard to hide his anxiety.
But his brow remained furrowed.
Because the possibility that the archbishops could be defeated was not entirely zero.
'Libertas.'
The demon grand duke released from the seal, the witch who claimed to have killed Paimon and taken that power as her own.
Thinking once more of that unknown entity, Anselm clicked his tongue inwardly.
By now, Anselm had reached his own conclusion:
That this being called Libertas was surely Paimon's mask.
That the evil demon grand duke had, through some trickery, swapped bodies and then either killed or stowed away all subordinates who knew about him.
The Witch of Mist must have been sacrificed in that process.
He recalled a passage from ancient texts:
That among the demon tribe, there were many entities skilled in the secret art of transferring souls.
'Yes, that makes everything fall into place.'
Anselm grew even more certain of his conclusion.
Of course, such a secret art might weaken one's power and cause the loss of some original authorities as a cost, but compared to the price of 'freedom,' it was surely a loss worth enduring.
'...First, crushing the Alliance comes first. After that, I'll scour the continent.'
Anselm ground his teeth inwardly.
Even after granting it freedom while bearing the disgrace of undoing the seal performed by the ancestral saints, it had promptly fled the moment an opportunity to break that contract arose.
He intended to make it pay the price for that sin without fail.
"By the way, about that woman called Philia Elskopf."
What broke Anselm from such thoughts was a remark from the commander who was dining with him.
"It's nothing much, but there is a rumor that she is not a noble of our country."
"...What do you mean?"
Anselm set down the knife he was using to cut his steak and focused.
Multiple nations had already confirmed that Philia Elskopf was from the Kingdom of Rugnisah, after traces of her life had surfaced throughout the kingdom.
But now, she was not from the kingdom?
Faced with Anselm's doubt, the commander burst into a hearty laugh.
"It is but an unverified, baseless rumor, but... it is a widely known fact that the witch is a great beauty, is it not."
"Indeed."
"But for such a beauty..."
The commander lowered his voice. His eyes glinted oddly.
"...An opinion emerged that it is impossible she would not have been known in Rugnisah's social circles, no matter how much she might have stayed within her household. Embarrassing to say, but it means someone may have sold their family name."
"Ho."
At first, Anselm had answered with a short exclamation, but soon he furrowed his brow.
'Wait?'
If Philia Elskopf was not a noble, then where on earth did this entity come from?
The fact that as soon as such a person seized power, the standing of monsters within the Alliance rapidly increased?
And what about the monsters, who possessed instincts hostile to humans, being so conciliatory?
The scattered clues in his head began swiftly assembling into a single picture.
'Selling the family name? Not even a mere merchant, but a noble? No, it's a more fundamental problem than that. If she's not a noble, then she, just what...?'
It was the moment Anselm grasped a chilling fragment of the truth and was about to open his mouth.
"Your Eminence! Grand General! I think you need to come out immediately!"
A messenger came running urgently.
His face was pale white with shock.
"Someone has arrived in front of the barracks, and that person... that person said to tell you! That Philia Elskopf of the Alliance has come!!"
"What?!"
The two men bolted up from the table and stared at each other's faces.
The leader of the enemy army had appeared before the encampment.
This was an opportunity that might end this war immediately.
- 3 -
The front of the encampment.
With tens of thousands of soldiers watching, Anselm finally came face-to-face with that 'witch.'
"This is the first time we've met, Archbishop Anselm of the Holy Kingdom."
"...I will not say it is a pleasure to meet you, Countess Philia."
She stood with only a single parasol, accompanied by just a few hundred mages.
Compared to his own army of nearly a hundred thousand, it was a force no more than a handful of dust.
But why was it?
'What... is this?'
Anselm felt a strange sense of pressure from her.
An overwhelming presence, as if facing a great mountain itself.
Even though it was he who commanded tens of thousands, he even felt the illusion that he himself was the one surrounded.
"She's beautiful..."
"That person is the powerful magnate of that wicked Alliance?"
"Good heavens..."
He felt the agitation of the soldiers in his bones.
Hands gripping spears trembled faintly, and warhorses nervously stepped backward.
Even knights and paladins could not completely escape that agitation.
'Just what is that woman?'
Anselm swallowed dryly without realizing.
Her appearance was unrealistically beautiful.
To make a comparison, it was a beauty akin to the descent of an angel that one might only see in a holy painting.
But that beauty evoked not holiness, but two conflicting emotions.
A chill terror that froze the heart, and a fierce possessiveness that made one want to own her.
"So you are the archbishop who branded my Esther a heretic."
And furthermore, her composed attitude...
It was enough to kindle some 'emotion' within him.
"Only the One who dwells above the heavens possesses our clergy, possesses the Saintess! You brazenly confess yourself to be a heretic, wench!"
A faint crimson light flickered in Anselm's eyes.
His emotions, amplified by Astaroth's magic, were devouring his reason.
"Seize that heretic!!"
As Anselm shouted, a faint aura spread from his body like a wave, enveloping the soldiers in the vanguard.
The foreign matter mixed within that brilliant light went unnoticed by anyone.
Except by those who already knew.
"Capture her immediately!! Attack!!"
A thick frenzy filled the soldiers' eyes.
The entire army, which had been overwhelmed by Libertas, surged forward with a battle cry.
"Exterminate the heretics!!"
"Burn the witch at the stake!!"
"Kill her!!!"
The Holy Kingdom's army and its allies began moving, seized by frenzy.
The knights and elite soldiers standing around Anselm surged forward like a tide, beginning to unleash their full power.
"Yes."
But Libertas smiled gently. As always.
"Give it a try."
Above her head.
Rain began pouring from the sky.
Hwareuk —
Pachut — !
Rain of magic.