The Clinging Polluter
Even after that, more matches followed, but they naturally failed to draw much expectation or interest. Still, perhaps spurred by the earlier bout, the knights’ swords shifted from techniques meant for ordinary humans toward more versatile forms. Their swordplay and responses grew noticeably more varied, which at least kept the proceedings from becoming dull.
Once all the matches concluded and Rowell and Aegina finished their special instruction, Their Majesties declared the swordsmanship banquet over. Countless envious gazes lingered on us despite the announcement, yet the knights and spectators eventually dispersed. We, too, returned to the mansion with Sir Levrant.
“Still, they weren’t bad. Even without real combat experience, you could see their drive to improve.”
Of course, the fact that they had been fighting right in front of Rowell and us probably played a part.
“True. Today’s experience should help them. And Anak, it’s been a while since you got to cut loose.”
“Even so, I went too easy on them earlier. If I hadn’t given hints, those two never would have figured it out.”
“That’s being too strict, Aegina. Getting that serious would have ruined the festive mood.”
It certainly wasn’t what Her Majesty had intended, either. Yet my explanation did nothing to sway Aegina. She had always been strict when it came to training.
“You went far too easy at the end as well. I’m not saying you should have used your full strength, but you could have cast spells.”
“It was a swordsmanship match.”
“And even if you had used spells in that situation, it would only have drained your summoning power for nothing.”
Of course, the temptation had been there while swinging my sword. But no matter how high the synchronization rate, the spells a Death Knight could cast were limited, and they wouldn’t have meant much against two knights.
“At best I would have given them a few more scratches. More than that, I’m embarrassed I swung a sword in front of you two at all.”
Even through a Death Knight’s body, gaps inevitably appeared in my swordplay, reactions, and responses.
“See? That’s why you should spar with us sometimes.”
“Exactly. You keep dodging it.”
“You two say you’ll go easy, but you always end up acting like instructors. I have no intention of aiming to become a swordmaster at this point.”
Training in swordsmanship or hand-to-hand combat now wouldn’t let me catch up to those two anyway.
In fact, the very idea of setting that as a goal was laughable. Having witnessed that level of skill right beside me, it was only natural my heart wasn’t in it.
“Well then, let’s head off to bed. It’s getting late.”
If the conversation continued and they started deciding training schedules and methods, I would be in real trouble.
“You’re right. We also need to prepare for the trip to the Parerin Archipelago tomorrow.”
“There isn’t another swordsmanship tournament or anything like that scheduled tomorrow, is there?”
I asked just in case. We still had to visit the study, and by the time we could finally go to bed, quite a few hours would have passed.
“There isn’t. I made sure of that.”
Aegina, don’t say something so ominous.
In the Mnemosyne Region, where the small mountain village of Del Tik once stood, only weeds and grass that never bloomed now grew thick. Broken tree pillars and foundations peeked through the rubble, rotting under the assault of insects and moisture.
It had always been a remote mountain village, nearly isolated from the outside world. Even after the great war ended and time passed, no restoration work had begun, and now almost no one even remembered the place existed.
Yet at this very moment, the sound of hooves—or rather, footsteps too heavy and raucous to be called hooves—echoed across the vanished village.
A creature resembling a foal with multiple legs, a massive cat, a long-legged turtle, a golden bull, and a giant lizard arrived, each carrying a rider. The group of people who dismounted were the dark priests who had fled the witches’ pursuit. Guided by Urshus, they had come here.
“We have arrived, Lord Urshus.”
At Olsidra’s report, the crystal in his hand emitted a dark red glow. Since the last portal casting, the fragment of Urshus dwelling within the crystal had kept its consciousness dormant to maintain the fragile connection.
Well done, Olsidra. The witches will not find you here for some time.
Olsidra seemed satisfied with those words alone, but the others who followed him were not. While their anxiety had lessened after successfully contacting Urshus, it had not completely disappeared.
The Urshus they had believed would grant them power had done nothing since opening the portal except give directions. If they thought about it coldly, there was no way they could defeat the witches.
Summoners had always been few in number. They had lost most of their elites when El Nergavil fell, and the connections to those they had barely managed to recruit were severed. Even if they increased their strength, twenty-odd people could never stand against the witches’ assembly.
“Lord Urshus, forgive my impertinence, but please tell us what we should do from now on.”
One of the dark priests gathered his courage to speak.
“We cannot possibly face the witches with only our own strength. If you would teach us the method……”
There is no need to worry. I will not ask you to confront the witches directly.
Urshus’s words brought the dark priests a measure of relief, yet they could not help feeling puzzled by the incomprehensible answer.
The conditions have already been met. All the pieces are moving to their proper places. There is nothing to worry about.
Even at Urshus’s confident declaration, the dark priests’ expressions did not brighten. They had witnessed El Nergavil’s collapse with their own eyes.
From now on, there is something else you must do.
“What would you have us do?”
Did you think I guided you here merely to hide from those old hags?
Following Urshus’s will flowing into him, Olsidra moved toward the center of the village. Scattered wooden pillars and narrow paths remained among the collapsed rubble and overgrown grass. The traces of the village were still clear, which only made the scene more desolate.
The place Olsidra headed for was an empty lot at the village center, where white brick fragments, what looked like carved stone slabs, and piles of earth were jumbled together. For some reason, this spot seemed to have been treated far more violently than the surrounding ruins.
There is a reason the Demon King’s army attacked such a remote place.
Olsidra dismounted the multi-legged foal he had ridden. Raising his hand, he summoned a red sigil in the air. A dark red light mixed with black created an unpleasant shadow, and from within the sigil, a pair of crimson, spear-like fangs extended outward. They were enormous, like lances wielded by cavalry, large and sharp enough to skewer several sturdy knights at once.
But they were not spears. What emerged from the red sigil was a monster taller than a mounted knight, with a physique equivalent to five grown men combined. What had looked like fangs were actually its exposed tusks.
The monster’s proportions were peculiar. Despite its abnormally long tusks, its face was only slightly larger than a wolf’s, and its features resembled those of a dog or wolf. Its upper body was heavily developed while its lower body was comparatively frail, so it supported itself on forelegs several times thicker and longer than its hind legs.
This creature was called Ulquig Jager. It lived by burrowing in the demon realm’s underground and, contrary to its ferocious appearance, spent its life gnawing on the tough roots of demon realm plants. Among the wild creatures of the demon realm, it was relatively docile.
Of course, that was only by demon realm standards. Since it fed on the roots of demon realm plants that attacked approaching creatures with poisonous stingers, it was still a sufficiently savage being.
Following Urshus’s will, Olsidra ordered the summoned beast to dig through the rubble. Using its abnormally developed forelegs and tusks, Ulquig Jager began pushing aside and clearing the debris.
Though old, the finely carved stone fragments were buried in the dirt or reduced to powder by its rough movements, and more brick rubble soon covered them again.
When all the rubble had been cleared, a large black hole whose bottom could not be seen appeared.
“……?”
“What is that smell?”
The moment the hole was revealed, the dark priests grimaced at a strange stench. It was not a sudden, piercing odor, but a faint, creeping smell that rose from below whenever the wind blew. Though neither strong nor intense, it stirred instinctive revulsion and disgust.
“What lies beneath this?”
Connected to Ulquig Jager’s consciousness, Olsidra carefully asked Urshus. While the others only felt vague rejection and unease from the smell, the emotions Ulquig Jager experienced were far more intense.
The beast was terrified. It refused to approach the hole and wanted nothing more than to drag the rubble back and seal it again. Though the hole was too deep to fill, covering it as before would have been possible.
Ihops Dibuk. The Clinging Polluter. It cannot compare to the gods, yet it is an ancient existence in its own right. It is both the reason this tiny mountain village survived until the great war and the reason it perished.
At the unfamiliar name, the others, and even Olsidra—who had heard of various ancient beings through the witches’ knowledge—tilted their heads in confusion. Urshus showed no intention of offering a kinder explanation.
After flowing into the middle realm, it hid here to avoid the gods’ eyes and pretended to be a deity. But when the Demon King’s army attacked, it merely cowered like a coward. Even if it had resisted, it would only have fallen to a Demon Commander-class demon.
“Then why are we here now……?”
From this moment on, you will capture it.